Chapter 13 #2
“Me?” I shook my head. The last thing I wanted to do was upset the delicate new reputation I seemed to have earned in Little Pippin Hollow. “Nah. I don’t know enough about it.”
“Which is why you’d actually be great,” Drew said consideringly as Katey set out our food. “You’re objective, and not a lot of people around here can say that.”
“But you’d have to speak your mind,” Webb challenged softly.
I bristled. “Hey. I speak my mind just fine when it matters.”
Of course Katey set my platter of spinach and eggs in front of me at that exact moment.
I stared at the plate of contradiction.
After a beat, I forced myself to smile hugely. “This looks wonderful, Katey. Exactly what I wanted and didn’t know I wanted! Thank you so much!”
Webb rolled his eyes and hid his smile behind his coffee cup. He seemed relaxed and happy, so I relaxed, too, enjoying my breakfast and letting the merry sounds of the Sundays’ conversation wash over me.
“Found them, Uncle Ernie!” an eager voice cried. “The handfasters are here!”
I looked at Webb in panic. Was this déjà vu? Was I doomed to forever associate breakfast with the horror of being attacked by colonial-era bylaws? Both of us turned simultaneously to find Mayor York and his reporter hurrying toward us, cameraman in tow.
Genevieve appeared beside our table first. “You two are impossible to track down,” she told me and Webb, half joke and half accusation.
“I had to run a lame backstory piece on this week’s Hand-Fast Watch where I interviewed a professor at Hannabury about colonial marriages.
Snooze-fest! I could feel my ratings nosediving. But this week will be more exciting.”
It would?
“Ernie,” Webb said gruffly. “For God’s sake, man, we’re just trying to eat breakfast—”
The mayor hesitated momentarily, but when Genevieve gave him a thumbs-up and the camera began rolling, he smoothed his jacket and tried to look professional.
“I’m Genevieve York-Muller, and this… is Hand-Fast Watch!”
Aiden poked me. “What’s a Hand-Fast Watch?” he whispered.
I exchanged a look with Webb and responded in the same soft voice. “Remember your dad told you about us blowing the bugle without knowing what it meant? Well, a bunch of people would like to make us finish all the silly steps. But don’t worry, they can’t actually make us do anything, okay?”
“Yeah.” Aiden looked speculatively at Genevieve and the mayor. “Yeah, okay.”
I turned back in time to hear Ernest York say, “… it is my solemn duty as mayor to see that our bylaws are upheld here in historic Little Pippin Hollow—where you can find both colonial artifacts and a genuine colonial interpreter at the Feeny Museum on Friend Street, not to mention agricultural tourism that harkens back to yesteryear at many of our local farms! Email Julia at Little Pippin Hollow dot gov for more details!”
Webb gritted his teeth, and I knew why. It was one thing for the two of us to have to deal with this stuff, and even to pretend it was real… but a whole other thing for it to happen in front of the other Sundays, especially Aiden.
“And now,” Mayor York continued, “without further ado… it’s time for the ceremonial ticking of the scroll.”
“If this is about the roof thing,” Webb began crossly, “you’re barking up the wrong tree. The work hasn’t even been done yet.”
The mayor ignored him. “Whereas Thomas Webb Sunday and Luke Guilford Williams were seen immersing themselves together in a pond during their second handfast week, with over a dozen Hollowans as witnesses, I declare the Tenth Confirmation Task complete.”
I gasped. “Are you kidding? The public bathing requirement? I fell in and almost got hypothermia.”
“But it was really romantic the way Webb carried you out,” a voice that sounded like Mark the Herd Leader argued.
“You two make me believe in fate,” another man called.
“I knew you were in love way back last fall. Didn’t I say, Irma? I said, those two are in love!” a third person gushed.
“I hope someday I get rescued from an icy pond,” a woman’s voice sighed.
“I don’t suppose you two would be interested in doing a dramatic re-enactment of the near drowning?” Genevieve ventured hopefully. “For our viewers to—?”
“No,” Webb snapped.
“Ah, well.” Undaunted, Genevieve turned her attention to Aiden. “What do you think of all this, young man? Your father being handfasted to your teacher and taking part in this amazing town tradition? Isn’t it wonderful?” She thrust a microphone across me and into Aiden’s face.
I was so outraged, it took me a minute to access my powers of speech.
“W-well,” Aiden began, looking tentatively from Webb to me. “Mr. Williams is awesome, so uh—”
“No, ma’am.” I stood up, pushed the microphone aside, and gave Genevieve a defiant look.
“No. This handfasting thing is cute and heartwarming. Y’all are in love with love.
I get it. But you don’t get to ask a minor child interview questions without asking his father’s permission first. He’s seven.
Seven! He has no comment whatsoever, and if I hear that you’ve tried to ask him for one, I will… I will consult my attorney.”
They didn’t need to know that it might take him a decade to get back to me since freakin’ Stephen Fox never returned my calls.
I swallowed nervously once the first burst of emotion burned off, but a voice called from a nearby table, “That’s my kid’s teacher right there! Hot dang. We need more like Luke Williams!” and I stood straighter.
So much for pushing the emotion away. Feeling the support of the community was punching all my feels buttons and leaving me a little too raw.
“We would have had a parental release signed before his interview aired,” Genevieve grumbled. “Obviously.”
“What’s going on here?” Jack stalked out of the back, pulling on a sweatshirt. It looked like he hadn’t slept all night.
“Official town business!” Mayor York said happily.
“Handfasting business,” Genevieve confirmed with a nod.
Jack looked at Webb’s furious face, then at me, standing in front of Aiden like a human shield, and he scowled. “Right, this has gone far enough. Do your handfasting business on your own time, Ernie. Not in my diner.”
“But, Jack—”
Jack’s usual friendly demeanor was nowhere to be found. “Let the Sundays eat their meals in peace. Call it family values,” he suggested. He clapped the mayor on the shoulder while I tried not to chin-wobble in response to being inadvertently included in the Sunday family.
Ernie nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. My office definitely cares about families enjoying breakfast uninterrupted. From now on, Genevieve and I will catch up to the happy couple elsewhere. Have a good day, everyone.”
I imagined them pounding on the door to my camper and wished I could take back my outburst.
“Or you could give up this whole Hand-Fast Watch thing!” Webb called.
The mayor pretended not to hear him as he and Genevieve hustled out the door.
As I sat back down, I could feel all of the Sundays—heck, maybe everyone in the restaurant—staring at me, but I couldn’t meet their gazes. I felt weirdly embarrassed, like I’d been the one to cause the scene.
I forced a smile. “Aiden, how are those pancakes? I—”
Webb pushed his chair back from the table with a screech and stood.
He took a single step in my direction, and before I’d had a chance to process what he was doing, let alone protest, he’d grabbed me by the back of the neck, hauled me against him, and kissed me quickly but soundly, right there in front of everyone.
“Thank you for standing up for my boy,” he murmured against my lips before he pulled back a second later.
“Oh,” I said articulately. My heart fluttered against my chest, and my cheeks burned. “That’s… I… oh.”
I was maybe a teeny bit going to need a fainting couch. I looked around just in case Panini Jack’s had a heretofore unseen historical theme that might lend itself to a purpose-built chaise.
No luck. I tried to catch my breath and find some chill.
No luck with that either.
My emotions were riding a roller coaster, and there seemed to be no end to the ride.
Webb had just kissed me in public.
In front of his entire family.
And there would be no doubt in any observer’s mind—not that anyone around here seemed inclined to doubt anyway—that Webb and I were a couple for real.
Webb nodded, like he’d done what he’d intended, then let me go and returned to his seat. “Easy on the chocolate, Aiden,” he warned. “I told you this breakfast was a treat, but if you start licking the plate, we’re gonna have words.”
“But, Dad!” Aiden exclaimed. I could see the excitement in his eyes. “You just kissed Mr. Wil—”
“Drink your milk,” Webb said quickly, while Knox helpfully clapped a hand over Aiden’s mouth before he could say anything else.
The same excitement danced in Knox’s eyes, too.
And Gage’s… and Drew’s… and I was not going to look at anyone else at the table in case I completely lost my ability to process oxygen.
“He was just saying thanks for looking out for you, kiddo,” Knox said. “That’s all.”
Aiden’s eyes were big when he nodded. As Knox pulled his hand away, Aiden couldn’t help but blurt, “Mr. Williams is the best!”
Gage threw back his head and laughed. “He sure is, buddy. I love this town. I love this diner. And I seriously love this family.”
I bit my lip and grinned down at my eggs. I was pretty sure I did, too.
We were nearly finished eating, and I had mostly calmed down, when Helena Fortnum stopped by our table.
I’d met her a couple of times—she was teaching royalty in the Hollow and stopped by the school frequently to read to the children—but I’d never actually spoken to her before.
She was a little bit intimidating, with her short bob and her way-too-intelligent eyes.
“Where’s Hawkins?” she asked without preamble.
“Home,” Em said. “Learning way too much about Fogg Peak.”