CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A NYA
The parade passed in a blur.
Sure, it was a beautiful morning for it, and the turnout of viewers seemed to exceed last year's, but I barely focused on the sights as we drove the route. Morgan navigated slowly as I tossed candy out the window of her SUV, something every float did as part of the festivities. The whole time, I couldn’t stop thinking about the upcoming judging and how we might fare against the other entries.
I figured we’d at least be in the top three. Morgan even insisted a few times as she drove that there was no way we’d get less than first place. The trailer was too detailed, the effort we’d put in was too obvious, and the mannequins were too precise. She was confident.
I wasn’t though.
I still hadn’t seen Robert’s offering. I looked for the float before we set off in the caravan, but the crowd was too large and the flurry of activity too intense. I gave up trying to find him once the horn sounded, telling us we had to get in line to start the procession.
Now, as we pulled into Friendship Park once more, a knot of anticipation grew in my stomach, getting bigger and tighter with every breath.
“Here we go,” I told Morgan as we turned into the lot. “I guess it’s now or never.”
“I am so excited.”
I stared at her. Unlike me, she sounded happy. Relaxed. Confident even. Of course, it wasn’t as much of a moment for her as it was for me. I knew she wanted to win, wanted the bragging rights that would come with the first-place victory, but beyond securing a small place in New Burlington’s history, there wasn’t much about this that would impact Morgan’s life. After judging, she’d go back to her regular life, back to planning her wedding, back to being excited for whatever the rest of the summer would bring before kids returned to class in the fall.
No, she wasn’t as invested in this as me. Probably nobody was—not even Robert.
She maneuvered the SUV to our designated spot in front of the dais, the row had been reserved for what turned out to be ten floats. I surveyed the others as she secured the spot. An offering from Congressman Graves’s office that featured a poor replica of the Library of Congress, a holiday tie-in with multiple evergreen trees decorated in patriotic regalia from the Franks Christmas Tree Farm, a trailer bed covered in red, white, and blue flowers from New Burlington Florist, a creative wrapping of banned books from the library...
Nothing remarkable.
All were nice, of course, and were great representations of the various organizations that wanted to be part of the contest, but nothing went to the next level, nothing that stood out in a way that would put my pending first-place win in danger. Nothing that would make the judges gasp in delighted awe.
Except for Robert’s float.
I finally saw it once we parked, resting at the opposite end of the designated spots. I narrowed my eyes as I took it in, the knot in my stomach falling to my knees even as I sat in the passenger seat of Morgan’s SUV.
Dear God, it was beautiful. Elegant. It was a float that didn’t just fit with the theme. No, it would never fall as short as that. Instead, it took the theme to another level, expanding on what I’d seen that day when I stopped by his store.
“Oh my God,” I breathed, hoping to steady myself.
Stay calm, Anya. Deep breaths.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he did hire those art students, and I knew how talented they were.
“Anya, do you see that?” Morgan was already looking in the same direction as me, craning her neck, no doubt so she’d get a better view of Robert’s float from the passenger window. “It’s... gorgeous.”
I nodded. I didn’t need to say anything. It was already obvious enough. And there, as I expected, was Kyle and his truck. Looks like he’d gotten a better offer. Damn it.
“I don’t have to see it up close to know that it’s a masterpiece,” I admitted. “It’s going to win.”
She gave me a sympathetic look, the corners of her mouth pulling down at the sides, the skin around her eyes crinkling. “You don’t know that.”
“Maybe not, but I can feel it.”
“It’s good,” she replied, firm and a bit dismissive. “But not as good as ours.” My best friend turned off the engine. “Come on, let’s go.”
Morgan got out of the vehicle, and I followed, even though all I wanted to do was leave. I’d so hoped to avoid being in second place again. For Gwen. For the store. For me. At least I couldn’t be disappointed in what I did produce as I know we did something amazing. But losing to Robert... that would sting.
Shutting the door, I willed myself to push the negative thoughts from my mind. I might have wanted to withdraw my float from the contest, but I knew I couldn’t do that either. That would be childish and dramatic. I was better than that. I needed to show up, to take up space—and I needed to do it for me, regardless of whether I won or not. I wouldn’t let a bigger bookstore intimidate me.
So, I trailed Morgan to the judging dais.
A few of the other contestants were already there, including Robert, who strode over to me the second we made eye contact. And on top of it all, he looked incredible.
“Hey, Anya,” he said, extending his hand, and I gave it a reflexive shake. “I was wondering where you all were.”
“We were in the back of the parade,” Morgan said before she also shook his broad, smooth, tanned hand. “Do you remember me? I’m Morgan.”
“Of course, I remember you.” He nodded at her SUV. “Looks like the float really turned out.”
“Yours looks great too,” I replied and then surprised myself with how much I meant that compliment. He’d worked hard, and it showed.
“Thanks. We’ll see what the judges say, although I am proud of it. The students put a lot of last-minute details into the statue.”
“That’s what matters,” I said. “It’s not enough for the floats to be interesting from afar. They really want them to be a sight to behold when you’re standing up close.”
“A shame these are only on display one day a year. I’ll hate to have to tear it to pieces tomorrow, considering all the effort we put into it.”
“That’s what Instagram is for.” Morgan took her phone from her pocket and gestured to us. “Can you all get together for a quick photo? I just realized we haven’t taken that many today.”
Robert moved closer to me and raised his arm as if to put his hand on my shoulder before hesitating and dropping it again. Instead, we stood together awkwardly as Morgan snapped a few photos. All I could smell was his cologne, a raw, wooden scent with a hint of sage that seemed to mix with his natural manliness.
I liked it.
He simply smelled so natural, so much like something I’d smelled my whole life, a scent that offered me instant comfort and connection, a coming home I’d never known. And that made him dangerous. Very dangerous. Robert was my direct competition, after all, the person who represented a thousand tiny little threats, all of which drew closer every day, as if I was a small goldfish and he was about to attack. I couldn’t be attracted to him. No, no matter what, I cannot do that.
As soon as Morgan finished taking the photo, I jumped away from his presence as if he’d stung me. Robert gave me a quizzical, puzzled look that tightened his forehead. His mouth opened as if he planned to ask me a question, but a loud horn bleating from the judging dais stopped him before he could ask.
It was time for the winners to be announced, for the moment we’d been waiting for to arrive.
At the signal, Morgan, Robert, and I crossed the lot and joined the rest of the people waiting to hear who would win that year’s coveted prize. I estimated about three hundred people had stuck around for the moment, along with a crew from the local news, a writer I recognized from New Burlington Living , and Keenan, a DJ from WOAL, Cincinnati’s soft rock and “today’s hits” radio station. Keenan was clearly there to serve as the celebrity emcee for the event. I doubted he would have ever stepped foot in New Burlington otherwise.
“What a wonderful day for a parade,” Keenan remarked from the edge of the stage. His white polo shirt with an embroidered station insignia stretched over his wide belly, and he held a wireless microphone in his left hand as if he were so comfortable with it that it was simply an extension of his body. “I don’t think we could have asked for better weather.”
The crowd murmured in agreement, and I took in the excited faces of so many of my neighbors. Robert gave me a small nod goodbye and rejoined his group of students closer to the front of the group. I watched him thread through it, taking in his broad shoulders, tapered waist, and sculpted calves below his gray trouser shorts.
God, he really is a hunk of a man, and that is so unfair.
I squeezed my eyes shut and wished that thought away too. I didn’t have time for that, I didn’t have room for him to keep coming up in my life. I had to stay singularly focused. I was here to win, here to have an impact on the future of the store. I was here for more than some guy I’d met a few times in town who once had been my classmate.
That was it. Period.
Keenan made a few more compulsory remarks and gestured to the small group of judges tasked with choosing this year’s winner—Mayor Longworth, Reverend Pointer, Frank Simpson from the county commission, and Julie Cross, a local mystery writer whose turn on The New York Times Best Seller list made her something of a local celebrity in our small town. Julie had done me a solid a few years ago, hosting a mystery night at the bookstore even though nothing she wrote fit our normal clientele. Despite promoting it for weeks, we hadn’t had a large turnout, and the memory of that disaster came back to me as Keenan went through the requirements for entry, the criteria for judging, and the list of winning prizes. Would Julie hold that night against me? I curled my toes in my sneakers and willed myself to stay rooted to the ground.
Don’t think about that right now, don’t dwell on the past...
Besides, Morgan was right. We didn’t know exactly what the judges would think of all the floats in the contest. They might be looking for something I didn’t anticipate, or they might be focused on some little detail I had missed. To me, it looked like a clear-cut two-horse race, but hell, they could decide to award a different float the first place, bypassing Robert and me altogether.
We simply didn’t know.
Still, as Keenan announced how hard it had been to make the decision, I wondered a few times if I’d fall over onto the grass. I was hanging on too tight, putting too much pressure on the moment, but I didn’t know how to stop it. I wanted this so much, and when he took a dramatic pause before making the announcement, I thought my chest might burst.
“All the floats in this year’s parade were outstanding.” Keenan’s voice boomed over the crowd. “I know I’m going to remember how great they were, and this parade is on my short list of places to take the family next year if you’re not planning to have me back as emcee.”
A few people laughed.
“When it comes to floats that stand out, there are a few that simply attracted our panel of judges in a special way, and I’m happy to present each of these submissions with an award.”
Morgan moved closer to me and threaded her arm through mine, hooking our elbows. She took a deep breath that mimicked mine. “Here we go,” she whispered.
“Here we go,” I replied, but I didn’t say it as much to her as I did to myself.
Keenan took the envelope from the judges and opened it. “This year’s third-place winner is...Frank’s Christmas Tree Farm!”
I exhaled as applause pulsed through the group, and the representatives from the farm climbed the dais stairs to accept their third-place ribbon and a small envelope I guessed contained one of the gift cards. They looked happy, and I was thrilled for them, glad their obvious efforts ended with them getting deserved recognition. I was also glad for myself. The Green Frog was still in the running for first place.
“Now, I am thrilled to present the award for second place,” Keenan said, a large grin on his face as he moved the crowd back to the task at hand. “As I said before, the judges expressed to me this was not an easy or simple decision for them to make.”
“Come on,” I whispered, hoping I wouldn’t get this slot. I didn’t want to repeat the year before. “No second place, no second place...”
“I’m pleased to say this year’s second place award goes to New Burlington Public Library.”
The group broke out into louder applause, and I started, shocked by what Keenan had just said. New Burlington Public Library? Second place? Sure, they did an outstanding display of banned book titles on their float, with large editions of To Kill a Mockingbird, Fahrenheit 451, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, and A Clockwork Orange getting the most prominent spots. It was creative, cute, and a great statement about the power of the written word and the meaning of the First Amendment.
But second place?
Morgan put her mouth to my ear as the staff from the library ascended the dais to collect their ribbon and gift cards. They looked happy and just about as shocked as I was. Blood rushed to my ears, and the knot in my stomach hardened to a steel ball.
“You must have won this,” she said as the staff was handed their awards, the rest of the crowd clapping and cheering their accomplishment. “There’s no way you didn’t.”
I eyed her, the confidence in her voice setting me on edge. There was only one more award to give out—the big one—and by my calculation, the competition had become much stiffer. Our float was a contender, but so was Robert’s. And his was... fantastic. It was better than what we’d done, and something deep inside me couldn’t deny that reality. Still, given what had transpired regarding second and third place, the judging team was liable to choose anyone in the field as the winner. They might not have felt the same way about Robert’s entry as I did and might not have seen the artistry for what it was.
Anything is possible, and you know that.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Keenan boomed once the library staff had their awards, and the applause died down. “I am thrilled to announce the final award of the day, the award for first place in the annual float competition.”
Morgan’s hand found mine, and she gripped it tightly as Keenan drew out his words. I squeezed back, grateful I had a good friend to lean on. The truth was my world was small and had become even smaller since leaving Chicago for New Burlington. I could count on one hand the number of people I considered worth more than passing politeness, and Morgan ranked at the top. I needed her in my life, probably more than she needed me.
“As I mentioned, the decision wasn’t easy for our panel of esteemed judges to make. This year’s competition moved things to a different level, as we saw the degree of effort exceed anything offered in the past.”
“Just say it,” Morgan muttered, and I bit back a laugh. She sounded as excited as me, and I was grateful for that too.
“Judges, have you made your selection?” Keenan asked, even though it was unnecessary. They clearly had, or they wouldn’t have signaled for the award presentation to begin. Even so, they nodded, and Keenan flashed a wide smile at the crowd. “With that, I believe it is time to announce who has won our grand prize in this year’s float contest and who will take home bragging rights from this, our most competitive year.”
I took one more cautious, deep breath. And then I held it.
“I know I’ve kept you all in suspense for long enough,” Keenan said, his voice straining and stretching against the microphone, almost distorting it. Morgan gripped my hand so hard I thought my fingers would break. “But the winner of this year’s float contest is... Robert Kilgore!”