I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “Let me get this straight, I couldn’t even manage a day at the jobs you picked for me and now I’m supposed to fall in love with one of the men you’ve picked for me? Why do I not feel great about my chances?”
“Probably because you have a terrible attitude.”
“Wow. That was harsh, Meem.” I throw back the rest of my espresso, which has gone as cold as my shriveled heart.
She sighs. “Believe it or not, I have your best interests at heart, Campbell Marie.” Ouch. And of course she knows my middle name. “You’ll just have to trust in the process.”
“Yeah, see, if there’s a real process, I’d like to see it laid out for me, step by step. Seeing is believing and all that.”
“Would I lie to you?”
I laugh, and despite the total unfunnyness of the situation, it’s a real one. “Would you lie to me? I barely know you. Why wouldn’t you lie to me?”
“Because I only want the best for you.”
“Yeah, well in my experience, people really only want the best for themselves.” I push back my chair deliberately hard, so it creates that awful scraping sound. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go pretend to care about some kids I’ve never met to try to suck up to a community I’m trying desperately to escape.”
She mumbles something under her breath, but I’ve already shoved open the door, knocking into Ben as I come barreling out of the shop.
“Howdy, neighbor!”
I close my eyes and take in a steadying breath. “You did not actually just say that.”
Ben grins and it lights up his eyes. “Rough morning?”
“As rough as any of the rest of them, I suppose.” I fidget with the hem of my skirt, realizing how rare it is for me to not constantly have my phone in my hands. And yet in just a few days here, I’ve gotten used to not checking it every five seconds.
“Excited for your first day of volunteering?” That damn smile of his is all too knowing.
“Oh boy, am I!” I exclaim with completely false enthusiasm.
He chuckles and gestures to the café. “I’m just picking up my morning coffee and then we can walk over to the school. We’re using the gym as the staging grounds for the carnival.” Pulling open the door to the damned tinkle of the damned bell, he glances over his shoulder. “Want anything?”
I’ve already had two shots of espresso, but what’s a few more. “I’ll take a latte. Hold the flower foam art.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.” He lets the door shut behind him, and I plop down at one of the outdoor tables to wait.
The main street of shops circles a large grassy expanse, the site of the upcoming carnival and this past weekend’s Apricot Faire, which I luckily arrived just in time to miss. Today the pristine lawn is dotted with people, picnicking and enjoying the absolutely picture-perfect weather. The sky is a shade of blue rarely seen in the city, with cotton ball clouds scattered artfully. The sun shines brightly, but there’s never even a drop of humidity. The breeze doesamazing things for my hair, but doesn’t ever turn into a true wind. It’s perfect, if you’re into that sort of a thing.
In these few minutes of silence, my brain starts to wander, which honestly, has never been a good thing. I wonder how much time has passed back home. How many meetings I’ve missed. I shudder as I consider how many unread emails I’m going to come back to. Assuming I have a job to come back to. My grandmother might have been grooming me to take over the firm since I was nine, but that doesn’t mean she gives me any real leeway. Not showing up for work for days on end and missing the biggest meeting of my career so far is surely grounds for both firing and removal from her will.
I might turn out just like my mother after all.
Ben emerges from the café, handing me a reusable to-go cup. “There’s no waste here, so you can just bring this back to Mimi on your way home.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t want to create fake waste in this fake town that’s not real.”
Ben takes my grumbling in stride, starting to walk down the absurdly clean sidewalk, away from the café and our houses. We pass by a number of shops, including the bookstore and Kate’s wedding planning office, both of which I studiously avoid, lest anyone catch a glimpse of me and my shame.
We come to a stop in front of an old-timey bright red schoolhouse. I don’t know why I was expecting a modern concrete monstrosity, because of course the kids of Heart Springs go to school in a building that looks like it’s straight out ofLittle House on the Prairie.
Ben leads me around to the back, where there’s a gymnasium that looks somewhat closer to what I’d expected,with a basketball court and bleachers, and right now, tons and tons of carnival stuff. Games and prizes and all the wooden pieces that will come together to form booths, signs and tickets and costumes and so many boxes. The floor of the gym is entirely covered.
I stop shortly inside the door. “Exactly how long have you been working on putting this carnival together?”
We’ve only been in Heart Springs for a few days; there’s no way all of this came together since then.
“A lot of the plans were already in motion, I just sort of stepped in and took control.”
