Chapter 25 The Friday Night Music Extravaganza #2
The short drive from the shop to the town park is quiet, but I am hyperaware of Carter plastered to my side.
I’m confident he’s taking full advantage of the small space in the cab, but that flies from my mind once we pull our wildly decorated raffle vehicle up next to our equally wildly decorated booth and tent.
The image makes my heart light, and it’s all thanks to the guys in this cab with me and the lovely people I work with.
I break the comfortable silence. “Thanks, you two. I don’t—” I start, but both men interrupt me.
“Please, don’t mention it.” Billy grunted.
“It’s the least I can do.” Carter leans in with a whisper, as his eyes dip to my lips. I flick out my tongue to wet them, suddenly hyper aware of how dry they are. His darkening eyes follow the move closely. We freeze like that—only inches separating us.
A banging on the window makes me jump out of my skin, breaking Carter’s hold on me. Through the poster-ed door is Vicky, wearing a shit-eating grin.
Of course it’s Vicky.
“Get your lazy bums out of there and help us set up!” She calls through the glass, emphasizing with another two bangs. Then she saunters back to the tent. Carter turns back to us, eyes touching on Billy then settling on me.
“Ready, Spitfire? Today’s going to be a good day.”
I nod my head, ignoring the emotion welling up inside of me.
Carter nods back to me, opening the door to hop out before me.
On the ground, he holds his hand out to help me down, and I take it without hesitation.
A spark of electricity dances through our touch to the center of me.
Jesus. I let go quickly, the moment I’m down beside him—flexing my hand to try and dissipate the remaining tingle.
Over at the table, Vicky waves; so with a final soft smile at the boys, I head over to help finish setting up our raffle booth.
This place is beyond packed. Vicky and I have been working double time to try and keep the line from getting overly long.
We’ve already signed up over fifty people, most of whom I’ve never met before, and the official start of the event is still five minutes away.
People begin arriving and lining up for a chance to win the truck.
There’s slight feedback from the sound system, then the slight drawl of Victor Williams, the head of the FNME organizers, and a member of our town council, comes through the speakers.
I look to the stage to see him dressed to the nines.
He’s a well liked and good looking man, if not a little uptight.
“Good evening everybody, and welcome to our final Friday Night Music Extravaganza of the summer season!” He claps using the hand holding the microphone, sending a thud thud echoing around the park.
Most of the crowd pauses to give a brief, smattering applause.
A couple catcalls ring out. Vicky snickers next to me, sending an unreadable look toward the stage where Victor stands.
“Our little town is a special place—”
“How much do you wanna bet he’s going to say spectacular?” A voice from behind me asks close to my ear. I smother a shiver at his proximity.
I should have taken care of business this morning. I’m a damn mess.
“I would never take that bet.” I don’t look away from where I’m searching for another roll of raffle tickets.
“—the most spectacular evening through the months of May to—”
I have to stifle a laugh at the timing. I flick a glance beside me to where Carter now stands. He’s oddly tense, despite his teasing tone, standing like he’s waiting for something specific. I tune back into what Victor is saying and freeze, wide-eyed at what I’m hearing.
“—will be at every booth this evening, so please take the opportunity to help fund our children’s field trips. As Ms. Duchamp says ‘there’s no reason for any child to be left behind when we have an opportunity to help them.’” I stare, slackjawed, at the man on the stage.
“Did he just quote my grant request essay?” I don’t ask anyone in particular.
Carter answers from directly next to me—his shoulder brushing mine. “He may have received a copy. Shh, he’s not done.”
“Not. Done.”
“—young mechanic friend of mine let me know that this is a yearly issue and has been for generations. Our school has always required students to cover their travel costs for field trips, and that has also led to many being left out.” He stops for a moment and looks out at the crowd, letting the information settle.
“Well, the committee and I agreed that from this point forward, our final Friday Night Music Extravaganza will double as a fundraising opportunity for our school’s field trips. ”
Vicky and I both let out a gasp of shock, and I grab a hold of Carter’s arm while he chuckles quietly.
“Half of our proceeds we collect for booth rental and entrance fees will be donated to the schools.”
I’m completely and utterly speechless at this point.
I have no idea how much money that could be, but by looking at the size of the crowd and the number of booths around, it is not a measly amount.
We may live in a small town, but it is a hot spot for tourists and music lovers. Especially these Friday nights.
“What did you do, Carter?” I whisper this to him as he stands straight, shoulders back—obviously pleased as punch.
?????
Victor ends his announcement, and I’m immediately pulled back into the chaos of the booth to help with ticket sales and keeping everything moving smoothly.
With this addition to our fundraiser, we now have people collecting donations from each of the other booths randomly through the next few hours.
The amount of money we’ve brought in is staggering.
Billy sits with the collection, our stoic bodyguard, while his own kids are scattered around the event.
Every once in awhile, they’ll pop back over to him, palms out and flat, and he’ll roll his eyes and make loud harumphs, then hand them some cash.
My time working in the tent is long over, but now I’m one of the runners.
Helping make sure the donation bins at each booth are tallied and collected before things get too crazy.
I’m slightly dazed walking back from my most recent collection.
Jill Ferris has a booth where she’s allowing people to take photos with her—surprisingly chill—peacock.
I wrestled out my own twenty bucks from my small wad of festival-food cash.
“If I pay you four times the price, can I touch him?”
“Tom.”
“I’m sorry?” I look behind me to see nobody who looks like a Tom is nearby.
“His name is Tom Hanks. Just put the money with the donation and don’t freak out if he bites you. That would only tick him off.”
He was not soft and nipped at me, but I regret nothing. Carter walks into step with me, throwing me a shy smile before he starts talking.
“Hey, so I, uh, know these guys who are coming up next. I know you know them, but I know them. We all went to high school together.” He looks at our booth, the truck, the stage, the grass, and the stage again while talking.
I stop walking and he finally looks at me.
I step closer, telling myself it’s to hear him more easily over the crowd and the band currently playing.
My chest seizes with the proximity of him, thoughts of Tom quickly diminishing.
He drags his foot across the grass, his hands in his pockets, so reluctant to spit it out.
“So…why don’t you come with me up to the stage to listen? ”
“Oh, um, I don’t—let me check with Vicky.” I turn around and rush back over to our booth, which, to be fair, is only a few steps away. She starts talking before I even open my mouth.
“Yes, you should spice up your life with Mr. Salt and Pepper.” Vicky greets me, taking the money without even looking away from what she’s doing.
Apparently, she heard our exchange. Or read my mind.
She looks up at me from where she’s sitting at the table.
She must see something in my expression because she quickly stands and steps into my space, moving us back away from the busy booth and Carter.
She grabs me by the shoulders and leans over to look me in the eyes.
“Becky, honey. You have worked your hind end off for all of this. Go enjoy some music while Carter gives you lovesick puppy eyes.” I look over at Carter and see him giving exactly that look.
My lips tug up in reluctant amusement at the accuracy of her statement, but I’m feeling too much turmoil to do much more.
“You think I should let him give me lovesick puppy eyes up close?”
“Yeah, I think you should. I think you’re both happier when you’re in each other’s space up close.
” Her eyes go a little distant as she says this, then she refocuses on me, squeezing my shoulders gently.
“You aren’t hard to read, Hun. I can see you gravitating back to him, and I can also see you judging yourself for it. ”
My heart aches with the after effects of his choices, yet skips a beat as I look over and see him standing there, waiting for me. “As much as I would like to pretty up our history, he had an affair, Vicky.” I whisper this to her. My stomach cramps and my jaw tightens with my words.
Her face softens in understanding. “It seems to me that you are making choices with other people’s expectations.
You know what he did, but you also know him.
Don’t let other people dictate your future.
They don’t know your life together. They don’t know your experiences.
” Her words are quietly passionate as she stands with me in this crowded field.
She takes a deep breath and squeezes my shoulders more tightly.
“My late husband was unfaithful early in our marriage. I made the decision to stay with him.” Her eyes mist, nearly spilling over with this remembered pain.
“I decided to stay with him, and I don’t regret a single moment we had as a result.
” She lowers her face to look directly into my own.
“I have always hated how people paint other people's lives with their own experiences and expect them to act accordingly, so don’t take my story as the only truth.”
Her hands slip from my shoulders as she takes a step back from me. “I think you need to decide what your future looks like, and if he’s in it or not.” Then she walks back to the booth to help somebody purchase a raffle, and I’m left with a decision to make.
I take him in from where I’m standing and feel a now familiar surge of loss and hurt. Carter must see it on my face because the hopeful look on his dies immediately, turning into sadness, guilt, and concern.
I hate this.
He approaches me again, this time more measured and uncertain. “They have an announcement to make at the beginning of their set. I want to make sure you don’t miss it.” He’s quiet and earnest, and I give in easily.
I have time to decide.
“Yeah, okay.”