As he stepped from the car, he was swarmed by half a dozen people, no doubt with questions. This festival was his brainchild, his and my mom’s. They started it after they got married. Dad was always proud of how well it did, both from a revenue standpoint and a community-building standpoint.
He was right to be proud.
I slipped out of the car and made my way toward the cantina.
“Were you awake or did Dad have to wake you up?” Lisieux asked as she filled lemonades and set them on the counter, which was a folding table covered with a plastic tablecloth.
“I was awake, but just barely,” I said as I ducked below the table.
Gigi said, “Oh good, you’re here.”
“What do you need?” I asked, aware of what her expression meant.
“We’re out of buns,” she replied. “Will you go get some from the kitchen?”
“Okay,” I said, ducking back beneath the table, leaving the makeshift booth.
“Hurry, if you don’t mind,” Gigi called to me. “The lunch rush is going to start any minute, and I want all hands on deck when it does.”
I jogged toward the kitchen, situated at the back of the parish hall.
“Hi,” Avi called as I passed the corral, where we kept all the kids. Avi was technically a helper, but in truth, the corral was for the helpers too.
“Hi,” I said, over the temporary chain-link fence. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty good. We’ve already made a few crafts,” Avi said, showing off her multicolored hands and arms.
“I can tell,” I said. It didn’t matter what she was doing, she’d find a way to be the one who got the messiest. “It’s good you’re helping with the little kids.”
“Yeah, next year I get to help at the bakery. Dad already promised,” she said.
“That’s a good one!” I said, suddenly wanting some gooseberry pie. “Maybe I’ll sign up for the bakery next year too.”
“That would be fun,” she said as she was getting pulled away by a clump of four-year-olds.
I entered the kitchen and found it surprisingly quiet. There was coffee brewing, but no activity otherwise. I spotted several large bags of buns on the counter. I took two and went out the back door. The door closed behind me. The air smelled of frying dough sprinkled with sugar. My stomach grumbled. I’d picked the wrong day to eat only a banana for breakfast.
Thomas appeared at my side. “Good morning,” he said.
“Oh, hi,” I said, excited he was there. “Where did you come from?”
“Back there,” he said, pointing to nowhere in particular. “How’s the cantina?”
“I’m not sure. I just got here,” I said.
“That explains why I didn’t see you earlier,” he said.
“Were you looking for me?” I asked, teasing him as we went toward the cantina.
“Maybe,” he said, in the same tone.
“You didn’t shave,” I said, finding his scruffy face far more attractive than I had last Sunday.
He touched his face as we reached the cantina. “A by-product of a late night and early morning. I better get back to my parents at the silent auction. I’ll come by when I get a break, okay?”
“I’ll be here the rest of the day,” I said, holding up the hamburger buns for effect.
“I’ve missed you this week,” he said, stepping a little closer.
“Have you?” I asked, stepping toward him.
“You’re like a breath of fresh air,” he said, coming closer.
“Buns, hon.” Gigi’s voice rose above every other sound, reminding me where I was and that everyone could see me talking to Thomas.
“I better go,” I said, stepping back toward the cantina.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll come by in a bit,” he said as I ducked beneath the table and entered the cantina.
Right away, I was hit by order after order. The lunch rush had begun and did not slow down for the next three hours.
Fifteen
Crowds continued to arrive. It was, as my dad had said, the perfect weather. Sunny and crisp, but not cold. Those who lived here refused to believe it was almost winter; they were the ones drinking lemonade. Those from out of state, who lived south of us, were excited by the prospect of colder weather coming to their homes in the next few months and they drank hot chocolate and hot apple cider. It was not a one hundred percent accurate test of local versus nonlocal, but pretty close.
I made up for being late by working hard for a solid four hours. I barely stopped, running back to the kitchen over a dozen times for more buns, more plates, more cups, and various food items. My father brought Avi on her break and the two of them, along with Lisieux, ate on a sunny slope toward the back of the field. I devoured a hamburger in between serving customers.
Thomas came by a few times, but each time I was too busy to say anything more than “Hi” and get him whatever food or drink he’d asked for.
The sun was starting to get a little lower. I glanced at my phone; it was already after three.
“Take a break,” Gigi said as she came behind me and noticed the time. “We have at least an hour before the dinner rush starts.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, not wanting to fall short on my responsibilities, while wanting to wander around the vendor booths and perhaps take the opportunity to run into Thomas.
“Yes, go enjoy the festival,” she said. Resting her hands on her ketchup-and mustard-stained apron, she sat beside two of her friends.
“Okay,” I said, more than ready for a break. I pulled off my greasy apron and ducked beneath the table.
My feet kicked up leaves as I dodged trees, making my way to where the musicians were playing. I had no musical ability, but I loved music and I especially loved music played outside on a fall day. Something about that combination brought more joy than either the music or the day did by itself. It somehow reminded me the world was, at its core, a good place.
I glanced toward the tent housing the silent auction items. There was a large crowd with Thomas in the middle of it. I decided I’d try to meet him later, toward the end of my break.
I found an empty spot on the hill, looking down at the stage and sat, rolling up my sleeves so the sun could warm my skin. I leaned back against the hill and closed my eyes, listening to the singer’s voice spread through the countryside. Children ran around me, but I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the sun on my face.
I felt someone sit beside me and reluctantly opened my eyes.
“Luca?” I said, surprised that he was sitting next to me, watching a new singer take the stage.
“Do you mind if I sit here? The rest of the hill is full,” he said.
I sat up. He was right; people had filled in all around me.
“That’s fine,” I said, startled at his closeness. I had purposely avoided him since he told me evil was stalking my family and killed my mom. “I didn’t think you’d be here,” I said, taking my hair out of the ponytail and picking out a few strands of dead grass before putting it back up again.
“Uncle Jace and Aunt Sam wanted to come, so I decided to ride along.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, not interested in saying more to him.