Behind her trailed a man with a large professional-looking camera on his shoulder, a young woman recording with a phone, and a still photographer snapping pictures as they walked.
“Concessions over there,” Aspen called to a group of high school kids who’d arrived to sell food in support of the high school crew team. “Right next to the Fort Hunt Presbyterians.”
Three energetic middle-aged women wrestled with the metal legs on a folding table as they set up their chili stand. The high school rowers noticed their struggle and quickly helped them flip the heavy tables upright.
“It looks like a Hallmark movie,” Rosamund said.
And it did, Kiersten realized. A true community, where everyone came together to celebrate a beautiful autumn day while supporting various worthy causes.
Aspen crossed the cul-de-sac and approached Kiersten’s porch, camera people in tow. “What do you guys think?” she asked, a broad smile lighting her perfectly made-up face.
“I think it’s amazing,” Kiersten said honestly. “You’ve done an incredible job pulling it all together.”
“Iknow.” She turned in a circle with the gleeful expression of a kid in a candy store. “So muchcontent.”
“Well,” Piper said with that bright, fake smile she always used around Aspen, “I guess we should get to work. Any marching orders?”
“Yes,” Aspen said decisively. She then enumerated a long list of duties for each of them. “And when the festival ends at five, we start the harvest feast. Got it?”
“Yes ma’am,” Piper said.
“Great. Let’s get this party started.” She waved goodbye and headed for the bouncy house, camera people following closely behind.
“Here we go,” Piper said, looking grimly determined. “Time to manifest abundance like a ...” She paused.
“Like a mother clucker?” Kiersten asked, smiling.
She grinned back. “Time to manifest abundance like a mother clucker.”
Chapter Fifty
Piper
The day flew by as Piper flitted around the cul-de-sac, parachuting in where needed. She mediated disputes at the surprisingly contentious pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey station, solved a Crock-Pot-extension-cord crisis for the Fort Hunt Presbyterians, and dealt with allegations of line cutting at the face-painting station.
“Why don’t you take a break?” Kiersten said around 2:00 p.m. “Get some lunch. I’ll take my break when you’re done.”
“Thanks.” She actuallywashungry, now that Kiersten mentioned it.
She purchased a bowl of Presbyterian chili and augmented it with a can of Coke and a bag of Doritos from the crew-team concession stand.
Then she sat down at one of the blue-and-white-checked tables in front of the musicians and looked around for her husband or the girls. As she squinted into the distance, something caught her eye.
Caitlin stood at the entrance to the bouncy house, arms crossed over her chest. A tall older boy obviously wanted to get inside, in defiance of the age limit they’d imposed to keep the little kids safe.
Caitlin raised her hand, pointing to the entrance of the cul-de-sac, clearly telling the boy to leave. The boy shook his head and widened his stance, refusing to move.
Piper rose from the table, eyes narrowed. She’d never seen this boy before.
Wait. Could this be Alex Orlov?
She sprang from her chair and moved at a fast walk toward the bouncy house, forcing herself not to run, not to alarm anyone, never taking her eyes off the boy.
Her stomach dropped as he pulled a phone out of his pocket and raised it to record Caitlin.
She increased her pace.
Suddenly Matthew Cleaver appeared beside Caitlin. He reached out and snatched Alex Orlov’s phone.
