AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Mom,drive faster!” Preston complains for the fifth time this morning. He can hardly sit still, wiggling excitedly. Usually, it’s me dragging him out of the house on the mornings of the bazaar, but at three o’clock, he came bursting into my bedroom, a cup of coffee in his hands. He then pulled me out of bed before I could take a sip.
“I can only go as fast as the speed limit. Don’t worry. We’ll be there soon.”
I look in my rearview mirror and see he’s crossing his arms and scouting out the window, craning his neck to survey the horizon.
It’s the last day of the bazaar until a year from now. Hunter promised my son he could help at the woodworking booth, and Preston hasn’t forgotten. It’s all he’s talked about this week, and it feels good to see him happy.
My heart soars at the prospect of Preston having the father figure he has always deserved. Someone who he can depend on and won’t leave at the first sign of struggle. My brother Emmett has stepped in where he can, but it’s an unfair burden to put on someone busy building his career in social media. Besides, Hunter is stable, confident, and firmly rooted. He’s the kind of man I hope Preston grows up to be.
When we finally pull into the parking area, Preston nearly jumps out of the vehicle before I can put it in park. “I’m going to go check if he needs help setting up!” he calls back to me with a wave over his shoulder.
“Be careful!” I tell him, but he’s already disappeared into the crowd.
I make my way to the front gates and sign in as a vendor. Since my food truck is already inside and set up, I don’t have much on me except an extra bag of flour and my purse.
I thank the man at the desk and proceed into the main area. I head over to Jingled, pull out the key to unlock the door, and climb in. I start up the ovens to get them up to temperature and make the first batch of cookies.
I’m not expecting Preston to come back for some time, so when I hear the front door open, I nearly jump out of my skin.
My son enters, a grim look on his face. “He’s not there.”
“Oh, well, there’s still time,” I assure him. “The cutoff for entry isn’t for another two hours yet. He might be running behind.”
Preston nods, but I can tell he’s not convinced. I’ve seen this face before. It’s the look he gives me every time Spence lets him down. My adrenaline picks up a bit out of protectiveness for my boy, but it’s for nothing. I know Hunter will be here. My job is to trust my decision and distract Preston.
“Do you want to play on my phone? I downloaded a few new games for you to try.”
He slumps into a chair. “No thanks.”
I wash my hands in the sink, dry them, and kneel to face him. “Really? It looks pretty fun.”
He nods, still not looking me in the eye. “Yeah, that’s fine. But I hope he hurries up. I was going to make so much money today.”
“You know what? Things are ready here. How about I take you out to look at some other booths? You can show me around everywhere you’ve been so far.”
His face lights up. I pull out my phone and go through my contacts until I find Hunter. I send him a few mildly threatening text messages to get himself over here as soon as possible before sliding it back into my pocket.
“Done,” Preston says, jumping down and pushing the stool back with his boots. “Now, youhaveto see what Mrs. Wiley has done with her stand. It’s amazing! Anyways, there’s also this one I think you’ll like…”
Preston and I do two full laps around the bazaar in an hour. When we finally make it to the woodworking booth, it’s still abandoned. The booth is empty, and there’s no sign of Hunter. I quickly lead my son away with the promise he can buy something nice for himself.
“Hello, Mr. Wiley,” Preston waves to the old man sitting at a booth with his wife. We cross the aisle near the old couple and their jewelry stand.
“Hey, it’s my main man.”
I turn my eyes to the racks of earrings and necklaces that his wife, Phelma, is displaying.
“I’d like to know if you’ve seen Hunter Richards around,” Preston says.
Mr. Wiley strokes the stubble on his chin. “Richards… Richards… Is he that woodworker?” Preston nods. “I’m afraid he only comes one weekend during December. Though I was very surprised to see him twice, I doubt you’ll see him again until next year.”
Preston shakes a little, but I don’t step in. I talk politely with Phelma, but my ear is tuned to Preston’s conversation.
“He told me he’d be back this weekend. I was supposed to help him with his booth.” Preston’s voice turns down at the end.
Mr. Wiley’s brows shoot up. “You were? Sounds like you’re close with him.” He sends a look in my direction at this, and I get Phelma to wrap up a dainty blue necklace for myself. I try to pay her the amount listed on the tag, but she refuses. Eventually, we settle on half.
“I guess we’re close,” Preston agrees. “He and mom went on a date last week.”
