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“Are they what?” I asked as we stood there in the tree line like three dolts.
“A fire hazard? If they are, we can tell someone to fix them,” Teddy earnestly asked.
“Oh no, they’re fine. A-1. I got tangled up in that one.” I jerked a thumb at the tree of lust behind me. “But otherwise, they’re all good. Up to snuff. I’ll be sure to send a text to Clyde over at the Rockmount Fire Company to let him know the lights are safe.”
“Sure, okay, well, uhm,” Teddy began backing up, “I’m just going to head on home. See you at the office tomorrow. Oh, and don’t forget to bring a dish to pass.”
I blinked stupidly while Tony stood off to the side with his teeth in his mouth. “For the Thanksgiving party?”
“Is that this week?” I asked like a total dullard. I mean, he had just said it was, but how could it be Thanksgiving already?
“Yeah, in two days.”
I heard Tony make a choking noise. Teddy and I both looked over at him. “I should buy a turkey,” he announced and snuck off like a thief in the night.
Teddy turned his attention back to me. “Wanda is leaving early to fly to North Dakota to be with her family, so we said we would party tomorrow. Did you forget?”
“Must be I did,” I replied. “I’ll totally bring a dish to pass.” If a dish to pass meant a bag of chips. “I need to go home now.”
Teddy nodded and moved aside to let me pass him. I felt his befuddled gaze on my back as I thundered to my car to find Tony sitting in the front seat and googling Thanksgiving recipes. He glanced up from his phone when I threw myself behind the steering wheel.
“Do you like oysters in your stuffing?”
So we were just ignoring the elephant playing with my riot gear in the back seat of my SUV then. Okay, that’s ducky. I could pretend like we’d not just confessed big things to each other after we’d come in our pants. Yep. Just another normal day in Rockmount.
“Sure, oysters are fine,” I replied and got a happy little hum from the man to my right.
I cranked over the engine and then drowned out Tony’s perky little hums with “Cinnamon Girl” cranked all the way up. The pachyderm in the back seat was along for the ride, it seemed.
***
“...this is my grandsonClinton when he was two months old. And this is him now that he’s three months old.” Wanda proudly passed her phone to Mignon, who had mysteriously arrived at city hall for our party. He was nodding along as he nursed a giant cup of coffee from a Starbucks many miles away while munching on corn chips. I stood in the corner, sullenly chewing on some soggy celery from my dish to pass. Thank God for deli veggie platters. Tony was chatting it up with Larry from the Prothonotary’s office, Midge from the Treasurer’s office, Penny from Elections and Voter Registration, and Bradley, who had left his office to schmooze and eat free food. The mayor never missed free food and/or gossip. “He’ll be four months old the day after Thanksgiving. I crocheted him some bibs.”
Teddy was making doe eyes at Lydia from Veteran’s Affairs. That kid had a libido that never quit. My sight lingered on Tony. He was ridiculously comfortable among small-town folk, something that his costar was not. Sasha had fled our charming village for Manhattan for the four-day holiday, claiming she could not tolerate the stench of cow shit and commonality any longer. As angry as I was at Tony—and myself—I felt bad for him. The poor man had to have been desperate to save his career to wed such a harridan. Thankfully, he could now be free to express who he was and still have a job. And yes, I was angry at Tony. I was also furious with myself for letting him wear down my resistance. I’d worked out so hard this morning that I’d tweaked a muscle in my shoulder. Pumping iron did purge some of the ire and upheaval from my chest, but only for so long. As soon as I was showered and dressed, the confusion returned.
And it still lingered now. The gathering was in its final stages. Praise all the gods.
“He is a lovely child, Wanda, give him a kiss on the cheek for me,” Bradley said, locked eyes with me, and then zoomed over like a bloodhound on the trail of a felon. Backed into the corner as I was, there was nowhere to go unless I leapt over a filing cabinet or hid behind the American flag in the other corner. “Stillman, I’m glad I ran into you. Oh dip!” He grabbed a coated plate and heaped veggies onto it while he talked. “Is this leek dip?”
“I think so,” I replied, my sight darting to Tony as he waved goodbye to Teddy and Lydia. He turned to glance my way, giving me that playful smile, and then dove into a conversation with his PA and a few lingerers. “I bought it at the corner mart.”
“Oh, well, that’s fine if it’s not. So, a fast thing I wanted to mention. Since the movie is taking a short break, I’d like you to pay extra attention to the trailers they’ve brought in. There are a few miscreants that might decide to vandalize or break into them while filming is paused. Maybe you and Theodore can set up a...shit, what do they call it? A stakeout!”
“You want me to sit in my cruiser for hours watching double padlocked trailers?”
“Yes, I do. We’d be happy to pay you overtime for tomorrow since it’s a holiday.” He spooned up the rest of the dip and then grabbed the rest of the broccoli florets and the last two baby carrots and grinned at me. “Thank you for looking after our town so well. If you need me, the wife and I are heading down to Myrtle Beach for a pickled beet lovers convention, so only call if it’s an emergency. You’re a good man, Stillman. Good night, all!”
He rushed out, with a plate filled with veggies, leaving me glowering at his back.
“If looks could kill,” Tony whispered as he edged up next to me to pluck a limp celery stalk from the plastic platter on my desk.
“He wants me to work tomorrow.”
Tony’s eyes flared. “Seriously?” He placed his phone next to mine on the wireless phone charging station beside my desktop monitor.
“Yeah, he wants me and Teddy to stakeout the movie trailers.”
“Well damn, that sucks. Can you do it in shifts?”
