Chapter 4
JUNE
As the festival came to a close in the late afternoon, vendors began packing up their booths with the tired efficiency that came from a long but successful day.
Families drifted toward the park's gazebo area, settling onto blankets and lawn chairs, where a local band would play as the festival's closing event.
The sun started its descent, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold that made June think of watercolor paintings like the kind her late husband used to admire.
She stood at the library's booth, helping to organize the unsold books back into boxes with methodical care.
Mysteries went in one box, romance in another, and children's books were carefully stacked so the spines wouldn't crease.
After fifty years as a librarian, her hands knew these rhythms without conscious thought…
sort, stack, protect. Always protect the books.
She was grateful that most books had sold. People had been generous at the book sale, and the library would have a nice sum to put toward new acquisitions for the fall. Considering they ran on a shoestring budget, this money would go to good use.
She stretched her back, feeling the kinks that came with age. Everyone had been so solicitous today, making sure she stayed in the shade with plenty of water, and sat every chance she got. But she loved the work, knowing that a hot bath and a good night’s sleep would put her right.
The festival had been lovely. The Garden Beautification Committee had outdone itself with the decorations. The enormous planters blazed with color, and the bunting draped across the gazebo fluttered cheerfully in the evening breeze.
And yet.
June paused, a hardcover mystery suspended in her hands, and looked out across the park.
Something flickered beneath the surface of this perfect day…
a current of uneasiness she recognized. Like standing on a riverbank and sensing the pull of water beneath the calm surface, knowing that currents ran deeper than what the eye could see.
Raymond was the obvious source, of course.
The man had moved through the festival like a poison, contaminating every interaction.
She'd watched him argue with his brother, insult Jerry, and throw crude comments at Barb.
His silver flask had been a constant companion, catching the sunlight as he drank.
But it was more than just Raymond's obvious tauntings. It was the reactions he'd provoked. The way Diane looked when her gaze followed him. The way Lucy threw lemonade with fury. The way Helena fell pale and shaky at whatever accusation Raymond had made.
These weren't just reactions made toward an unpleasant man. These were reactions to someone who knew things and liked to hold power over people through the secrets he'd collected.
June set the mystery novel in its box and straightened, pressing one hand to the small of her back.
Her body reminded her that she was getting older at the end of every long day.
But her mind was as sharp as ever, cataloging observations, filing away details, making connections the way she'd been doing her whole life.
Near the coffee booth, Sara Lee was breaking down the canopy with Barb's help.
June smiled despite her unease, watching her granddaughter laugh at something Barb said.
Sara Lee's face was flushed from the sun and the day's work, and tendrils of hair, having escaped the clips she used to hold it back, were catching the golden light.
She looked happy. Young and happy and completely unaware that anything might be wrong.
Carl appeared, carrying boxes to his truck, and June watched the way Sara Lee's whole body shifted when she saw him.
A subtle thing, barely noticeable unless you were watching for it.
Straightening her spine with the quick movement of smoothing her hair, and the smile that bloomed across her face without her seeming to realize it.
Oh, her granddaughter was definitely interested in the young veterinarian. Carl was no better with the way his eyes found Sara Lee immediately and smiled at her like she was sunshine personified.
June nodded gently, approving. Carl was a good man… kind, responsible, devoted to his work. He'd make Sara Lee happy if they could both stop dancing around each other long enough to actually acknowledge what was obvious to everyone else in town.
"Ms. June?"
June turned to find one of the library volunteers holding a box of children's books. "Should these go back inside?"
"Yes, please. We'll deal with them on Monday." June watched the woman carry the box toward the library's back entrance, then returned her attention to the festival.
The park was filling now, people claiming spots for the concert.
She recognized most of the faces as this was her town and these were her people.
She'd taught many of them to read when they were children, had helped them find books for school projects, and had quietly slipped troubled teenagers novels that might help them feel less alone.
She knew this community's heart. And she knew when something was wrong.
Movement near the side of the library building caught her eye.
Raymond stood close to Diane, his posture aggressive.
Even from this distance, June could see Diane's rigid body language, the way she held herself like someone bracing for a blow. It appeared he’d grabbed Diane’s purse and was taunting her about something.
June's jaw tightened. She moved quickly in that direction, but Sara Lee was already there, hurrying across the grass with the kind of protective instinct that made June proud. Her granddaughter had a good heart and couldn't stand to see anyone threatened or afraid.
"Everything okay?" Sara Lee called out, and June was close enough now to hear the exchange.
Raymond turned, swaying slightly, with that cruel smile on his face. "Just having a friendly chat with an old friend. Isn't that right, Diana?"
June caught up to them, but her mind snagged on the name he’d used. Diana. Not Diane.
Diane's face turned chalk white, her hands trembling by her sides. "It's nothing," she managed, but even her voice shook with fear.
Raymond's smile widened. "Nothing at all. Just catching up on old times." He shoved her purse at her with one hand while the other hand moved to his jacket pocket. Then he straightened to his full height with exaggerated care and walked away, his silver flask now catching the fading sunlight.
Sara Lee watched him leave, then turned to Diane. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I don't… I… need to go." Diane practically fled toward the parking lot.
June watched her scurry away, her unease crystallizing into something more concrete. Diana.
Sara Lee stood there for a moment, breathing heavily.
Carl walked out of the library after having carried in a box of books and, oblivious to what had occurred, walked back to the booth that was now almost empty.
Sara Lee looked at June, but before she could speak, June quickly said, “It’s fine, sweetheart.
Go help Barb and Carl. Raymond is gone, and Diane is safely away. ”
Her granddaughter appeared to want to argue, but finally nodded and walked back to the almost-empty coffee booth. A few minutes later, they joined June as she folded her camp chair and prepared to walk home.
“It’s been a long day,” Sara Lee commented with a tired sigh.
"Yeah, but a good day," Carl said. His hand brushed Sara Lee's, and June pretended not to notice the way they both smiled at that contact.
June watched as Sara Lee’s gaze followed him. The soft expression on her granddaughter's face made her look younger and more vulnerable. Let her have this, June thought. Let her have this happiness before whatever's coming arrives.
Because something was coming. June could feel it in her bones, and in the way the evening air seemed to hold its breath, and the tension hummed beneath the festival's cheerful surface.
"Ready to go home?" June asked as Sara Lee approached.
"More than ready," Sara Lee said, linking her arm through June's.
They walked home side by side as twilight settled over Meadowlark Creek.
Behind them, the band began to play, and music drifted through the warm evening air.
Children's laughter echoed from the park.
The festival was ending the way it always did, with music and community and the promise that summer had truly begun.
It should have felt peaceful. It should have felt right. But June couldn't shake the feeling that they were all standing on the edge of a cliff they couldn't see in the gathering dark.
"That went well," she said, her voice more forced than she meant to sound. It was as though she was trying to convince herself of the statement’s truth. Then she sighed and added, "Despite the drama."
"Despite Raymond, you mean," Sara Lee grumbled.
"Yes. Poor Horace." June thought about the judge's face when he intercepted his brother earlier.
The humiliation, frustration, and bone-deep weariness were etched into his expression.
"Family can be such a burden sometimes." She paused, considering her words.
"It makes you think about how two people raised in the same family can become so different.
And what led to that animosity? No matter how estranged they may become, they're still family. "
She was thinking aloud now, the way she did when trying to puzzle something through. Raymond and Horace… two brothers, raised by the same parents, given the same opportunities. But one had become respectable, successful, while the other had become bitter, cruel, and destructive.
What made people choose cruelty? What drove someone to spend their life making others miserable?
And more importantly… what happened when the people they'd tormented decided they'd had enough?
As they approached their home, June could feel her body relax, knowing sanctuary was close by. Once there, Pippi greeted them with bouncing enthusiasm while Mister Smee walked toward them with his tail held high, swishing back and forth.
Sara Lee plated turkey and Swiss cheese sandwiches on paper plates and carried them out to the back porch. June was glad her granddaughter had made the sandwiches the day before, knowing how tired they would be this evening.
She settled into one of the comfortable chairs, her body easing as tired muscles relaxed. The evening was a perfect temperature… warm enough to be comfortable, yet cool enough to be pleasant. Fireflies blinked in the gathering dark like tiny stars darting to and fro.
Pippi sprawled across Sara Lee's feet with a contented sigh. Mister Smee sat next to June's chair, accepting a few slivers of turkey with the regal air of someone receiving tribute, then proceeding to wash his whiskers with great delicacy.
“I’m not sure I will be able to move tomorrow,” Sara Lee said, leaning back in her chair, sighing heavily. “I might not make it out of bed!”
June chuckled. "Tomorrow, after the Sunday service, I thought I might reorganize the mystery section at the library, but right now, a day of rest sounds good."
"You should take it easy, but if you’re determined, I can help you," Sara Lee replied. "With my summer free from teaching, I can do more than just drive the library’s bookmobile."
They sat in the comfortable silence that came from years of knowing each other completely.
June looked at her granddaughter in the fading light.
This beautiful young woman moved back after her parents died and chose to stay in this small town when she could have gone anywhere.
She’d made a life here built on teaching, books, kindness, and love. June was blessed and knew it.
"Did you have a nice lunch with Carl?" she asked, unable to resist.
Her granddaughter grinned. "I did. He asked me to the Solstice dinner."
"And you said yes."
"I did, but how did you know?" Sara Lee laughed.
June patted her hand. "You remind me of myself many years ago. It took your grandfather a while to convince me to go out with him. But he persevered. And I realized that a man with that kind of dedication deserved a chance. You deserve happiness, sweetheart. And don't forget that."
Sara Lee squeezed her fingers, and June felt the familiar tightness in her throat.
After the accident that took Sara Lee's parents, June wondered if either of them would ever feel whole again.
But they helped each other heal… or at least, they learned to carry the grief together, which was sometimes the best anyone can do.
Once inside, it took no time to set up the kitchen, since Sara Lee had wisely chosen paper plates for their sandwich supper. Then, with heartfelt goodnight hugs, they headed to their respective bedrooms.
June changed into her cotton pajamas and sat on the edge of her bed, suddenly feeling every one of her seventy-five years.
She was tired. Not just physically, though her feet ached and her back protested.
She was tired in her soul. It was the kind of weariness that came from watching people hurt each other, from seeing the darkness that lived beneath pleasant surfaces.
Raymond's face kept appearing in her mind. The cruel smile. The silver flask. The way he moved through the festival, spreading pain like someone sowing poisoned seeds.
And the reactions. Horace’s frustration. Petunia’s embarrassment. Diane's terror. Lucy's fury. Helena's panic. Jerry's hatred. Bob’s anger.
She shook her head, trying to dismiss the dark thoughts. Raymond was a bully, and the way she thought bullies should be handled was to ignore them. But what happens when that’s not enough?
She sighed heavily. Tomorrow, he would leave, go back to Richmond, and everyone can return to their normal lives.
Still, as June climbed into bed and Pippi settled on her cushion next to the bed with a soft whuff, she couldn't shake the feeling of something inevitable rushing toward them like a train in the dark.
She fell asleep uneasily, her dreams troubled by images she couldn't quite remember upon waking. For now, she slept. And dreamed. And the night settled over Meadowlark Creek like a held breath, waiting for whatever would come with the dawn.
And somewhere, in another part of town, Raymond sat on a park bench in the gathering darkness, his flask in his hand, alone with his cruelty and his bourbon and the choices that had brought him to this moment.