Chapter 36
Planning on Coming Soon
TRE
“You already have that many volunteers?” Jacob asks.
“Of course. There’s no time to waste, and people are pretty excited we’re doing this,” I answer.
It’s Monday evening, and the first meeting of the Kalomish Harvest Festival planning committee has been underway for nearly half an hour. I tried not to be a dick at the beginning, but best laid plans and all that.
“You can add Jean and Carol from my office to the list. They wouldn’t stop talking about the festival all day,” Fiona says.
I don’t know if that’s true or if she’s antagonizing Jacob, but I nod and write their names on the whiteboard.
“Alright, at tomorrow afternoon’s planning meeting, we’ll match up volunteers with the list of events we’d like to run and figure out how many we can include,” I propose.
“Wait, you want to meet on Tuesday too?” Jacob complains. “I can’t spend every day on this.”
“We’re on an extremely tight timeline, which I believe you pointed out before you volunteered to help. I never asked you to join, so feel free to quit.”
“That’s not what I said! You want to—” Jacob raises his voice before Fiona interrupts.
“Knock it off. If you keep up your pissing contest, I’ll quit and you can both fail. Enjoy explaining that to the entire town.”
I let out a deep breath and relax my shoulders while Jacob sits back in his chair.
“Good. Tre is right. We don’t have time to spare. But,” she continues hurriedly when Jacob straightens up again, “that doesn’t mean we all need to meet every day. We can assign tasks and each work on those, then meet here every few days. Sound good?”
“You are the voice of reason, as always, Dr. Carson,” Jacob answers in a grateful tone with an overly considerate look on his face. I wish I could punch him.
“That’s fine,” I agree. “I’ve been working on this for the past week, which is why we have so much done. I’m happy to share.
“Jacob, why don’t you take over the sponsorships and business donations? You can stop by Betty’s in the morning, and I’ll give you my notes of who we have and haven’t contacted. You’re welcome to add anyone you’d like.” I stare at him, daring him to object.
His jaw muscles tense for a moment before he replies, “Sounds great. I’d love to.”
“Anything in particular that you think I should handle?” Fiona asks, challenge clear in her voice. I wonder how much of her attitude is a show for Jacob’s sake and how much is her daring me to try telling her what to do.
“Well, we’ve got this preliminary list of events, and we know we want to host as many local vendors as possible. I thought you could take on the location planning. I’ve filed the permits to make sure it can happen in town, but we still need to know where everything will be situated.”
“Alright. I can do that.”
I glance past her through the window to find the head librarian tapping her wrist at us.
“Okay, time’s up. Meet on Thursday at six-thirty, then?” I ask, looking at Fiona. Our meeting time is dictated by the clinic’s hours.
They both murmur agreement as I open the door.
“Hi Ms. K. Thank you so much for letting us use this space as the Harvest Festival headquarters. Even when City Hall is closed, we can count on the library. Isn’t that right, Councilman Nammier?”
Jacob steps out of the room with his plastic smile in place and agrees. “It certainly is. The library is a vital hub for our community, and we appreciate your support.”
Ms. K. nods, her stern face softening. “I hope you’ll remember that at next year’s budget meetings, Councilman.”
“Such candor. Whatever would we do without you, Ms. K?” Jacob says, neatly sidestepping any promises.
Why can’t I punch him?
“We’ll get out of your hair and let you close up,” he finishes.
On the way out, I say, “Dr. Carson, since we’re here already, how about I show you some of my thoughts on the layout?”
Fiona glares daggers at me, then makes a show of looking at the sky. “There’s about half an hour until sunset. Why not?”
“Jacob, I’ll see you in the morning about that list.”
He nods curtly, then looks at Fiona. “And I will see you on Thursday. Good evening.”
As I wait for him to leave, I notice the familiar pale face of the Henley and Montank suit watching me from a car across the street.
When Jacob walks away, I lead Fiona in the opposite direction.
We cross at the corner and meander toward Humboldt Park, with me pointing randomly at things along the way.
“If you ever ‘Dr. Carson’ me again, I’ll kick you in the balls,” Fiona hisses once we’re out of earshot.
I laugh. “Just putting on a show for our idiotic audience.”
Her only response is to continue glaring.
“Okay, fine. Never again. You have to admit, though. Giving you the location assignments was pretty smart.”
“Was it?” Fiona asks, and I’m not sure if she’s still annoyed or back to being laconic.
“Sure. Not only can you work out most of it on your own, meaning you don’t have to socialize constantly, but we can also walk around downtown together any time we want. Look. We can put the petting zoo you asked for right here.” I sweep my arm toward the eastern edge of the park.
“And you think that constitutes a clever plan?”
“We get to walk through the park and enjoy a beautiful sunset together. We couldn’t do that yesterday.”
“Yeah. I guess you did alright,” she admits, bumping her shoulder into mine. “Why did you give Jacob the donations?”
“Well, I had to task him with something. Anything I assigned him would shift the power dynamic between us, however temporary. You could see he hated it, but he put himself in this situation,” I say with a shrug.
“Schmoozing is what he does anyway, so it’s a natural fit.
And this way, he has to talk to people who are going to tell him exactly how they feel about the developments face to face.
Plus, I couldn’t resist rubbing a little salt in the wound and making him come to me to get the info. ”
“The banner looks great, Mr. Greyson. We’ll get it set up on Main Street tomorrow. When you have the others printed, tell Jordan and he’ll hang them around town,” I state. “That’s the last update on advertising. Fiona, do you have any topics for the team?”
I step away from the lectern so she can replace me. She, Jacob, and I are seated near the circulation desk with a lectern facing the main room. About two dozen volunteers are occupying every spare chair.
“Yes, thank you. My main update is that thanks to the donation from White Construction,” Fiona nods an acknowledgment at Jacob, “we’ll be able to build a single stage on the north end of Humboldt Park to handle the larger events.
This will free up the space we planned for the second stage.
Unless anyone objects, we’ll use that space for more vendors and an additional walkway to help the traffic flow. ”
Nobody says anything, and she continues, “Jacob, there will be four new VIP booth spots. You can reach out to any vendors who want to upgrade.” To the room, she adds, “I’ll send out an updated draft of the map. That’s all I have.”
I return to the lectern when she takes a seat.
“Okay. That’s everything on tonight’s agenda. Everyone has their assignments. If questions or issues come up before our Thursday meeting, you know your points of contact. Thank you all for coming, and thank you again for helping.”
It’s ten to seven. We’ve been meeting here for the past two weeks, and despite the number of volunteers involved, this is the earliest we’ve finished.
I help stack chairs against the wall and say my goodbyes. When I walk outside, the familiar grey sedan with the Henley and Montank suit is parked several spaces down the street. Our eyes briefly lock before I turn away.
Fiona meets me outside for what has become our new routine. Ostensibly, we’re reviewing locations and planning the festival, so I occasionally point at nothing as we walk through the streets to the park to watch the sunset.
Twilight quickly settles into dusk, and we go our separate ways.
Instead of heading home, though, I go to the diner’s parking lot and get in my car.
I wait several minutes to make sure there’s enough separation between us, then drive to Fiona’s house, taking the long way to make sure there’s no grey sedan following me.
Her truck is in the driveway, and the lights are on inside when I drive past her house and park two blocks away around the corner. I walk back to her place and lock the front door behind me.
Fiona is clattering pots in the kitchen over the sound of The Clash.
“Hey. I figured I’d make some food,” she says from the stove when I step through the arched doorway.
I move behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. “Hmm. You cooking for me. I like the sound of that.”
As the pot of water in front of her heats, she reaches into a cabinet overhead and pulls down a box of mac and cheese.
“What are you doing?” I question.
“I already told you. Making food. Surely you’re familiar with the concept.”
I release her and grab the box before she opens it. “Yes, which is why I know we can do better than this. It was fine the day after you moved, but you’ve been here long enough to go grocery shopping.”
“Whatever. You’re lucky I was going to feed you at all.”
“Getting lucky? I like the sound of that too,” I reply as I search her cabinets.
“Not if you keep insulting my cooking skills. What are you looking for?”
“I need to see what you have so I can figure out what we can make.”
“You’re going to have to clean whatever you think you’re making. This place doesn’t have a dishwasher, and I don’t feel like doing a thousand dishes after every meal,” she asserts.
“Well, it’ll be a lot easier to figure out dinner when we’re living together.” My brain takes a second to catch up with my mouth, and I freeze, one hand holding the fridge door open. My eyes go wide, and I turn to look at Fiona, who’s focused solely on me.