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She could see Bettina and Viola and the rest of the festival committee trying to keep the ticket booth line in control. Oh God. She should have told them before coming up here. She’d meant to. Now they were going to find out about Fatback Bubba with the rest of the crowd, and as members of the committee, the crowd would undoubtedly blame them as well.
The weight of hundreds of curious eyes stared back at her. Only Pilar and Kitty and Shea and the rest of the Bunco Babes knew what she was about to say. She searched the crowd for them, but there were too many people to make them out. She could feel their presence, though, and that helped some. She wished she had found Zeke. Having him next to her wouldn’t change the outcome, but it would make her feel a lot less vulnerable.
“First off,” she said into the mic, “I want to thank all of you for coming out today. Despite the rain, we had a terrific turnout at the 10K run and I want to congratulate all the winners and everyone who put in such a great effort.” The crowd clapped politely.
“And of course, I want to extend a great big thank you to all the volunteers. Without them, this festival wouldn’t be possible. And especially to the members of the Whispering Bay police force who donated their time today to keep us safe.”
The crowd clapped louder this time. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with tissue paper.
“So…you all know this was my first year as mayor and as head of the festival committee. Now, I’m not one to put the blame on anyone or anything, so everything that’s happened here today, and, um… that will happen, is totally on me. I’m responsible for everything. No one else. Just me. As my husband Zeke likes to say, the buck stops here.”
The crowd stared back at her, waiting.
“And, so, here’s the thing.” She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t look. She just couldn’t. It was like a band aid you had to rip off. Better fast and furious than slow and tortuous. “Fatback Bubba won’t be here tonight,” she blurted.
The crowd went silent.
“What did she say?” someone yelled.
“Yeah, what did you say?” yelled a man wearing a cowboy hat. From this distance, she couldn’t tell for certain, but Mimi thought it was Brooks Farina, the head butcher at the Piggly Wiggly. Just last week he’d hand-cut her some prime rib-eye steaks after he’d gushed over her role in getting Fatback Bubba and the Rattlesnakes for the festival. After tonight she’d probably be lucky if they even let her back in the Piggly Wiggly.
“I…yes, I’m sorry, but I think you all heard me right. Fatback Bubba won’t be here. It’s all my fault. All mine. No one else’s. The rest of the festival committee has no idea what’s going on.”
The noise level jumped from zero to one hundred gazillion (if such a number even existed). Mimi’s heart was beating so fast she was sure the mic would pick it up. Maybe if she had a heart attack, then everyone would feel bad for her and she could get off the stage alive. Of course, she’d have to survive the heart attack for that to happen.
Suddenly, the crowd went quiet again. Footsteps coming from the left of the stage drew her attention. Too freaked out to do much more than stare at the ground, Mimi caught a glimpse of cowboy boots. She looked up a little higher. Worn jeans. She followed the jeans all the way up to a plaid shirt and to a man who looked exactly like…
OH. MY. GOD.
He smiled at her and put his hand out. “You mind?” he said, motioning to the mic.
“You’re…you’re…him!” She sounded like a bleating goat. She had to be hallucinating. Or maybe she did have that heart attack and she was in that place where everyone saw the white light…
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I surely am.”
He had to reach out and gently pluck the mic from her hands. Then he winked at her and Mimi thought she had died and gone to heaven.
“Hel-lo, Whispering Bay!” he said into the mic.
The entire place went wild. He didn’t need an introduction. Not for this crowd. But he gave them one anyway.
“My name is Billy Brenton and I’m mighty happy to be here!”
“I don’t understand,” Bettina grumbled. “I’m on the festival committee, too! Why isn’t everyone coming up to congratulate me?”
“Shut up, Bettina,” Wendy said, causing Sherry and everyone else within hearing distance to give her a second (or in Bettina’s case, a third) glance. Other than the time she’d voted with Mimi, Wendy had never openly gone against Bettina. There must have been a blue moon or a UFO hovering nearby that was causing everything to go out of whack. “I can’t believe it!” she said to Mimi. “Billy Brenton! How on earth did you get him to come here?”
“I have no idea,” Mimi said, still in a daze.
“Don’t be so modest,” Bettina said. “Obviously you knew all along you were getting Billy Brenton. Pretty clever of you to pull this last minute switcheroo. It’s very dramatic.” Bettina looked at her with newfound respect. “It sounds like something I would do, actually.”
“This has got to be the most successful Spring Into Summer festival we’ve ever had!” Viola said. And she was right. As Mimi’s daddy liked to say, the concert tickets had sold faster than a scalded dog.
News that Billy Brenton was performing at the festival spread to the nearby towns and, within an hour, Whispering Bay was dangerously close to busting at the seams. They’d managed to squeeze more than the five hundred they’d anticipated into the roped-off area, but that didn’t stop people from coming. They lined up anywhere they could, just to hear Billy Brenton and his band play.
All this was fantastic, of course. The food and drink trucks were making a fortune, which meant the festival was making a fortune. The weather had turned breezy, making it a perfect night for the concert. Harry Tuba had been disappointed to discover he wouldn’t be needed. A part of Mimi was still miffed that he’d been so uppity earlier. He’d practically made her beg to come play tonight! But Mimi was too happy (and too relieved) to
hold a grudge, so she promised Harry he could play a few songs when Billy was through. Hopefully, someone would stay to listen to him.
