He shot me a glance. “You want to go to the Jubilee?”
“Why not?”
“Because everyone in Hume will be there.”
“Yeah, that sounds like fun.”
Edison puckered his face with surprise. “I just assumed you’d want to keep it low key.”
“Wait are you saying you don’t want to be seen together at the fair?” I thought we were both all in.
“Going to the fair is a statement. People will ask questions and make assumptions.”
“I mean yeah … that was kind of the point. I want everyone to know you’re off the market.” Edison tried his best to prevent a smile from curving his lips. “So, what do you say? Is it a date?”
“I’ll be there with a bell on.”
Each summer HumeCommunity Council hosted the annual Sweet Summer Jubilee. It was a weekend-long event with crafts, petting zoos, cook-offs, and contests for the biggest squash or tomato. There was music, games, and food … tons of food. When I was a child, my family attended each year. Our parents would give us each twenty dollars and let us lose. The first thing I’d do was grab a turkey leg, because it’s not a festival without meat on the bone.
Fancy and I walked around with a sample of Mr. Williams’ collard greens. Another perk of this event was all the free samples. And even if they weren’t free, if you stood around shooting the shit long enough, you’d be offered a sample. In my opinion the greens had way too much vinegar for my liking, but I was partial to my father’s recipe.
“I forgot how crazy these things could get.” Fancy discreetly chucking the rest of our uneaten greens in a nearby trash receptacle.
“I think each year the council dukes it out trying to find ways to top the prior year. Dial’s a member and she doesn’t tolerate mediocre. What was once balloon animals and the mayor’s sonperforming his family friendly raps has morphed into massive bounce houses, carnival attractions, and hot-air balloon rides.”
Her face lit up with recognition. “I remember the mayor’s son and his God-awful raps. What was his stage name again?”
“Hines the Holy Roller.”
“Yup, because he was rapping for the Lord. Is he still doing that?”
“No, he retired years ago, so now we get real local talent.”
“Well, if Hines the Holy Roller has one fan, it’s me and if he has zero fans it’s because I’ve died.”
“I think he still signs autographs. So, you just let me know and your Christmas gift is secured.” I winked.
Fancy unleashed a hearty chuckle.
“Edison?” I turned to find Willa with Teddy Britell.
“Hey Willa, Ted.” Wasn’t there some kind of etiquette about the protocol when you run into your ex at the community event? Perhaps hightailing it in the opposite direction was an option.
Willa’s lips curved into a half smile. “Francesca, I hoped you were still in town and we’d cross paths again at some point.” Willa pulled Fancy into a hug.
“It’s good to see you again. You look amazing. I love your dress.” Fancy wasn’t lying. Willa was a knockout.
“Thank you. I could say the same. Your boots are like art. Where can I find them?”
Fancy looked down at her sequined boots, which I could only imagine cost thousands of dollars. “Uhm, they’re from a New York based designer. His name escapes me now, but I can text it to you.”
The long uninterrupted stare as Willa drank the sight of me holding Fancy’s hand was like tiny paper cuts all being inflicted at the same time. Willa finally turned her attention back to me and me alone. “I thought you hated these things?”
“Edison? He loves fairs, especially the turkey legs,” Fancy chimed in.
Willa’s gaze was carrying on a private conversation with me. Last year when she suggested we come to the festival together, I lied and said I hated the crowds and smell. “Hmm, so you two?” she asked.
Fancy pinged between me and Willa, sensing the building tension. “Teddy, do you think you could walk with me to get a lemonade? I’m parched, but I want to give Edison and Willa a chance to catch up.”
