Page 54 of Paper Ghosts

“I became aware of that fifty years ago,” she said. “You’re not exactly subtle.”

“Just for that, I’m going to pout in the basement.”

Willamena laughed and went into her bedroom, completely unaware that Tug was standing on the other side of the sunroom door, his hand on the doorknob, listening to her talk to herself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Theo was standing on the sidewalk outside of Mother Hen’s when Bailey got there, bouncing on his toes to keep warm. He had two pieces of white posterboard tucked under his arm. “I thought I’d made you up,” he said, smiling as she approached. “You were like Cinderella running away from me yesterday. I didn’t even get your number.”

“I’m sorry. I had an appointment with my grandmother. Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in it.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she thought, What am I doing? She never gave out her number. She had exactly three contacts in her phone, and sometimes that felt like too many.

He reached into the cargo pocket of his shorts and handed his phone to her.

“Why is your screen saver an angry-looking turquoise bird?” she asked.

“It’s called a dellawisp. It’s a tiny, rare bird that only lives on Mallow Island on the South Carolina coast. My favorite writer lives there. I went on a pilgrimage in college, determined to meet him. Never saw him, though.” She put herself in his contact list and then handed the phone back to him. He glanced at the time before putting it back in his pocket. “I know your clock tower is under repair, but someone should tell them the time is wrong.”

“It’s always been like that. Time moves slower here.”

“This town is messing with me,” he said as he unlocked the door.

They spent the morning making FREE TEA ICE CREAM signs for the shop windows while businesses set up at their assigned tables in the park. The Shadow Fair officially started at noon. The fair rule was that, as afternoon wore on and the autumn sun began to drop behind the clock tower, when a table or a game was completely covered by the shadow, it had to shut down. Between the hours of five and six, the shadow would eventually lengthen across the center park and darken it all, and that’s when the Shadow Fair was officially over. It was a fun bit of marketing, which Hen Town was remarkably good at, but it also served to help prevent a bottleneck of traffic, allowing people to leave in phases.

Theo opened the door at noon and it didn’t take long for news to spread. A line soon grew outside like unspooling thread. Bailey’s shoulder ached from scooping by the time all the ice cream was gone. Theo then took the signs out of the windows and they cleaned in silence that she wanted desperately to fill. But it was obvious Theo was doing some serious mulling as he processed the stories customers had been eager to tell him about Ruby.

Soon, the clean shop had an emptiness that finally felt like a real goodbye. That’s when Theo turned to her and said, “Can I buy you a chicken corn dog?”

From behind the counter she’d been shielded from people. Theo had done all the greeting. Once outside, she knew she would be more vulnerable, prone to running into people from her past she’d rather not see. But she could tell Theo was adrift in a town where people knew more about his family than he did. She was his only touch point right now. “Sure,” she said. “Why not?”

“I have something to give you before you leave. Don’t let me forget,” he said as they walked outside and got in line at one of the food trucks parked around the center green.

“So how are you feeling? About Ruby, I mean.”

“That if there’s a tie-dye heaven, she’s in it.” He paused. “I wish I’d known her sooner.”

“I feel the same way about my grandmother, and I grew up with her.” Before he could ask a follow-up, she wrapped her arms around herself from the chill and said, “You mentioned something yesterday about your students. Are you a teacher?”

He took off his jacket and handed it to her. She tried to wave it away, but he put it over her shoulders anyway. “I teach seventh-grade English. I try to teach seventh-grade English. I’ve been known to rap Shakespeare to get their attention.”

“Have you always lived in Austin?”

“No. But I went to college there and stayed. I’m from Reno, where my mom still lives. It works for us both. We’re far enough away from each other that we don’t fight except on every major holiday.” He stepped up to the window and paid for two chicken corn dogs, and then handed her one. “How long did you live in Hen Town?”

“Too long,” she said as they walked into the park and perused the craft tables and games. “I haven’t actually been back since I graduated high school.”

“Why now?”

“My grandmother is ill.”

He’d just taken a bite of his corn dog, but immediately spit it into his hand. “Oh my God, Bailey. What are you doing here with me? Go be with her.”

Bailey shook her head. “She’s the one who said to stay at the fair as long as I’d like. I’m on call, but like I said yesterday, I could use the distraction.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m definitely sure.”

He studied her for a moment. “Okay, consider yourself distracted,” he said, and then proceeded to spend the rest of the day single-mindedly occupying her in a way that left her feeling outrageously charmed and incredibly melancholy at the same time. It was the same sensation she felt when reading romance novels as a teen, wanting something she knew she couldn’t have.