“The fuck?” Webb seemed just as confused as I was and looked twice as scowly about it.
A thirty-something woman carrying an old-fashioned reporter microphone and a man with a video camera jostled through the crowd, and the mayor directed them to the area right in front of our table. He bumped a protesting Jack aside and took his spot.
“How’s this?” he asked the cameraman. “Do you have a good angle of the happy couple? What about me?” He ran a hand over his hair.
The cameraman gave him a thumbs-up.
“Looking great, Uncle Ernie!” the reporter assured him. She turned to Webb and me and whispered, “You two. Try to look a little more besotted, okay?”
Besotted?What?
But she’d already turned back and smiled broadly at the camera. “Good morning. This is Genevieve York-Muller reporting from the town of Little Pippin Hollow, with a heartwarming story of true love and the charming practice of handfasting?—”
I looked to Drew and Marco. “Oh my gosh! Did you guys get handfasted? Congratulations!”
Marco shook his head resolutely. “Hell no. I’m not into kinky stuff.”
Webb poked the mayor in the back. “Mayor York, what’s this about?”
The mayor slapped his hand away.
“It’s fine, Uncle Ernie,” the reporter told the mayor. “We’ll cut the interruptions in editing.” She shook her hair back, fixed her smile in place once again, and continued in a hushed-excited voice, “Handfasting, which can be a form of commitment prior to marriage, much like a betrothal or an engagement?—”
“Ohhhh,thatkind of handfasting,” Marco said.
“—may have fallen out of practice in modern times throughout much of the world, but in this pristine hamlet, the tradition is alive and well, thanks to a law that was written nearly three hundred years ago and a very special brass bugle that dates back to the Revolutionary War!”
The reporter made a slicing motion across her throat. “M’kay. That’s where we’ll shift to the B-roll. Your turn, Uncle Ernie. Go ahead.”
“Right, yes.” The mayor cleared his throat and gestured to a woman in the crowd. “Dora? Honey, where’s my scroll?”
The mayor’s wife hurried over, bearing a two-foot-wide scroll on a velvet pillow.
“I am proud to read the following proclamation, which was signed into our official town record just this very morning by me. Ernest York. Proud mayor of Little Pippin Hollow.”
The mayor picked up the scroll with great ceremony and let it unfurl all the way to the floor. He cleared his throat, gave the camera a brilliant toothpaste smile, and began reading. “Whereas Thomas Webb Sunday?—”
“Oh, no.” Webb shook his head. “Fuckno. I want nothing to do with this shit, whatever it is.”
“—has been a resident in good standing of Little Pippin Hollow, Vermont, for his entire life and is not only a prominent town leader, but also owner of the delightful, family-owned Sunday Orchard—” The mayor glanced directly at the camera again and added, “Where you’ll find fine heirloom apple varietals and agricultural fun for the whole family! Check out www dot sundayorchard dot com for more information!”
“What in theworld?” Em whispered.
He glanced down at the scroll again. “And whereas Luke Guilford Williams?—”
“Me?” I squeaked. “Wait, how’d you get my middle name?”
“—who is a sheepherder by trade?—”
“I think he prefers to call itteaching,” Marco interrupted.
The mayor spoke louder. “—is an esteemed new resident to our town, who has become an integral part of our community—and enjoys shopping at Pippin Feed and Supply for all his animal needs! Stop by their location on Tree Wagon Turnpike and mention my name for a twenty percent discount!”
Webb began shaking his head… and continued shaking it like a metronome as anger tightened his features and tensed his shoulders.
Mayor York stood taller and continued. “And whereas love is love is love, and unions of all types are welcomed and encouraged in our inclusive, diverse community—which also happens to be home to Mattson’s Sugar House, call 555-GO-MAPLE to reserve your spot at one of our maple sugar jamborees today!”
“What is happening?” I hiss-whispered over the table. “What is going on right now?” I was pretty sure I knew, but that didn’t make it any easier to believe.
