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“Alright. How about a compromise.”
“I’m listening.”
“You go to the meetings until the time your contract is up.”
“Fine. Sounds good.”
“And don’t worry about me or Meryl or Daniel, our newborn baby who refuses to sleep at night. Exhaustion doesn’t begin to describe the feeling of being a parent. You have no idea.”
“Dex.”
“Yep.”
“Calm down. I’ll do it. But you have to stop leaning on my guilt switch, okay?”
“You da best! I knew you wouldn’t let me, or the town, down.”
“No problem, Dex.” I sigh. “But as soon as the parade is over, I’m going.”
“Sure. No problem. It’s a fair, not a parade. Hold on, just a minute… Meryl’s telling me something.” I hold my phone out and squash down my mixed-up emotions of guilt and resentment at being pushed around. But then I think about tiny baby Daniel and Dex and Meryl and how being in Oak River for a few more weeks wouldn’t be such a hardship for me.
Someone comes back on the line. It’s Meryl. “Hey Cam, how are you doing?”
“Yeah. Good, Meryl. How are you?”
“Haha coping… So, I’ve done some digging re your neighbor, Miss Molly Ryan, and my suspicions have been confirmed.”
“What suspicions?”
“About her being single, of course. Ha. Men,” she says, sounding frustrated. “So, you get the green light.”
“Thanks, Meryl. But I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cam Wickham. For a smart guy, you are pretty dumb sometimes. I’ll hand you back to Dex. He wants a word.”
As I wait on the line, I hear a muffled conversation before Dex comes back on. “Did you get that?”
“I think so,” I say, although I’m not one hundred percent sure what Meryl has in mind.
“Good. And why not, eh?” I’m just about to respond with a raft of ‘why nots’ when Dex continues. “So, when can we come over to your place for pizza and takeaways? We’re almost out of our stash of frozen meals… Meryl sends her love. And, oooh. Gotta go. Daniel needs a nappy change.”
Being on a committee of any sort is not what I want to do in my downtime. On my drive over to the community hall, my mind wanders to all the other things I’d rather be doing, but I remember this is a favor for my friend, so I’m sucking it up and toughing it out. I take a deep breath before going in. Being a member of the Oak River Annual Spring Fair committee seemed like my worst nightmare. That’s until I walk into the hall, and the first person I see is Molly. I take a seat opposite, suffer Mrs Radley’s over-the-top introduction, and endure a cringeworthy round of applause. I haven’t done anything yet, beyond just show up.
Thankfully the meeting moves on swiftly. But it turns out that Dex only told me part of the story when I learn that my role here on the committee is not only about safeguarding at a community event.
Mrs Radley points to the site map, looks directly at me, and says, “Here’s the location of the scaffolding tower that will be used for the fire department simulated rescue...”
I close my mouth, nod slowly, and arrange my face so as not to appear surprised.
“… and, of course, the Historic Society’s battle re-enactment.” Mrs Radley redirects her focus to Mr Weston as I compose words in my head that I want to say to Dex when I see him next.
“Yes, thank you, Mrs Radley,” says Mr Weston. “The tower is going to be made to look like a castle this year.”
My thoughts of vengeance are interrupted by a visualization of a turreted stone medieval fortress, incongruous in the middle of a farm paddock. Looking around the table at the puzzled faces, it’s clear I’m not the only one to have this idea.
Mrs Radley, having read the room, responds with the question, “Are you sure there were castles at the time of the War of Independence?”
“Technically, no,” says Mr Weston with a furrowed brow. “But we think that, symbolically, a fortification in the style of a British stone castle, would add to the drama of the re-enactment. It stands as a metaphor of British imperialism, if you will.” He smiles. “The kids are going to love it!”
