Chapter 4 #3
“I still don’t know what a hashtag actually does,” Bobby Ray grumbled. Grease stains still marked his mechanic overalls despite Abby clearly trying to clean him up before the event. His backward baseball cap barely covered the bald spot on top of his loose blond curls.
“It connects people,” she said. “Plus it helps get the word about our tourism and your sister’s campground.”
“So does yelling,” Bobby Ray said and adjusted their chairs.
Alvin snorted. “Boy’s got a point.”
The campground continued filling around us while Blue Ethel and the Adolescent Farm Boys started setting up on the makeshift plywood stage area. Ethel immediately grabbed the microphone before anything was even plugged in correctly.
“Good evenin’, Happy Trails!” she hollered while Rosco the pug barked wildly beside her feet. Thank goodness she had him on a leash, because that dog could get into so much trouble when left to his own devices around here. “Welcome to the paaaaarty!”
The fiddle kicked up seconds later, followed by banjo and harmonica while Otis Gullett swayed beside the speakers, looking just sober enough to stand upright.
Tex wandered back over, carrying a tray of little plastic sangria cups while Glenda arranged oils and lotions beneath the tiki hut beside the lanterns.
Their little spa setup near the woods already looked busy, with massage tables under canvas tents, hammocks swinging between trees, and the cedar hot tub steaming softly beneath the lights strung through the branches.
Blue Ethel suddenly launched into a loud version of “Kentucky Rain” while campers clapped along, and kids danced barefoot in the grass.
The kerosene lanterns hanging around the tiki hut started glowing brighter as dusk slowly settled over the campground, and for the first time all day, I finally felt my shoulders loosen.
After the tension of the tea party, this felt like home again.
The campground had finally settled into that comfortable evening rhythm—the lanterns glowed softly against the trees, the smell of barbecue drifted through the air, and Blue Ethel’s band carried across the lake loud enough for half the campground to hear.
I had just taken a sip of the sangria Tex handed me when headlights swept slowly across the gravel drive near the office.
“There’s Mary Elizabeth,” I said as her SUV rolled toward the recreation hall with Dawn Gentry in the passenger seat.
The second the vehicle stopped, Mary Elizabeth climbed out, looking surprisingly put together for a woman who’d spent the entire day hosting a Historical Society fundraiser. Dawn looked more relaxed beside her, though both of them carried that worn-out, end-of-event look around their eyes.
“Please tell me Ty saved me something besides cucumber sandwiches,” Mary Elizabeth called while walking toward us. “If I eat one more tiny tea sandwich today, I may not survive.”
Ty pointed his spatula toward the serving tables. “Pulled pork, burgers, and slaw.”
“Now that’s real food,” she declared.
Dawn laughed softly behind her. “She’s complained about tea food all the way from the Milkery.”
“Well, tea food isn’t supper,” Mary Elizabeth said matter-of-factly before her expression suddenly changed. She stopped walking and looked around the campground.
“Where are they?” she asked.
I lowered my cup. “Who?”
“My guests,” she answered. “Florence Sparks, Tara Kelly, and Alice Charles.”
The group collectively looked around the campground.
She was right. None of them were there.
“I thought they left before us,” Dawn said. “They all ordered rides from the Milkery.”
Mary Elizabeth frowned slightly. “Florence specifically said they planned to come support the evening fundraiser.”
Dawn crossed her arms loosely. “Tara seemed genuinely excited about tonight.”
“And Alice wanted to see the live music,” I added. “Plus she practically sprinted away from Florence at the tea party. I figured she’d already be here hiding near the trees somewhere.”
Mary Elizabeth looked back toward the campground entrance again. “I don’t like this.”
Just strange enough to make the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Maybe the Uber got lost?” I asked. “And they went back to the Milkery. That has to be it.”
Blue Ethel suddenly screeched into the microphone again. “Who’s ready for karaoke?”
A loud cheer erupted from the recreation hall area while somewhere behind us, Chester started barking at absolutely nothing.
But standing there beneath the lantern glow while Mary Elizabeth scanned the campground entrance again and again, I couldn’t shake the feeling something had shifted.
“Listen.” I finally caved when I saw the genuine look on Mary Elizabeth’s face that she was concerned for her guests.
She always took it upon herself to make sure everyone was safe, having fun, and full of good ole Southern cooking.
“Why don’t Dottie and I run over to the Milkery, because I’m sure they are there? ”
“You don’t need to worry yourself,” Mary Elizabeth said in the most unconvincing way. “But if you want, you can. That would be a big load off my shoulders.”
“Come on, Dottie.” I gestured for her to follow me. “Let’s go wrangle up some donations because this group isn’t going to donate like the group from the tea party.”