But before I can bid, he’s going once, going twice, and sold to that weird lady who runs the church choir and may have never cut her hair once in her life.
Thatlady?Shewants to ride the pole?
“Is he still not here?” she asks, and I’m sorry, is this woman upset Brodie won’t be hugging her?
This evening is proof that you never really know anyone, no matter how much you think you have everyone figured out in a small town.
It’s Granny’s turn. She gets up there with one of her dolls as a prop. As predicted, the guys in Iris’s crew aren’t going to leave a “sweet” old lady out to dry.
But suddenly, an unexpected paddle rises. Richard sits in the second row, looking like the cat who got the canary. No one interferes once he bids. Granny can’t stop giggling, and Richard just shakes his head and laughs. When she comes back to herseat, she stops by his, and he pecks her cheek. “You old flirt,” she says.
Mrs. Kumar owns the one and only bed-and-breakfast in town and offers a free night’s stay, with childcare if needed. The guy who runs our beloved bar The Fox Hole offers a dune buggy ride. The high school gym teacher, and apparently reigning Foxboro pickleball champ, offers to be on your pickleball team for a year.
My vision tunnels at Iris’s next words. “Next up, we’ve got the internet’s hottest mycologist. Please get your paddles ready for Dr. Aria Johnson!”
I stand, wipe my palms on the front of my dress, and climb the stairs to the stage. The last time I did this, I was getting my high school diploma. My knees may as well be knocking I’m so nervous.
I flash back to high school, to being the one never picked. To being the weirdo. To the door being slammed in my face with Brodie offering only a slightly apologetic shrug after his friend called me “the methhead.” To being the one who, if you were my friend, it was social suicide.
I lock eyes with Richard and he shoots me a wink. I let out a breath through tight lips.
The bidding starts at $20. Richard tosses his paddle up in a second. At $25, Skye raises her paddle. $50, some woman I don’t know. $75, one of the firemen I also don’t know. $100, a cop.
Iris jumps to $200. A paddle in the back of the room goes up. I can’t make the person out from the lighting on the stage.
“Do we have $300?”
Richard smirks at me as he raises his paddle again.
“$400?”
Again, the paddle at the back of the room lifts.
An “ooh” goes across the room. Granny lifts her eyebrows at me and sits up straighter. She’s in an exceptionally good mood since Richard made her night.
“$500?”
Richard grins as he lifts his paddle. My heart is pounding so hard, the whole room has to be able to see it in my jugular. I do not want Richard to have to pay 500 flipping dollars for me.
“$600?”
Again, the paddle at the back of the room lifts. It feels like a belt is cinched around my ribs. This has been the highest bid tonight.
“Do we have $700?”
Silence echoes. A bead of sweat rolls from my butt crease down my thigh, and I hope no one sees it.
“For $600, we’re going once. Going twice?”
My stomach dips as the person in the back of the room steps forward. First, black boots and navy pants, a navy Foxboro Fire Department shirt. Corded arms, bulging biceps, firm pecs. Warm brown eyes and a sheepish smile. Red hair that isn’t shaggy anymore, but cropped into a stylish coif that plays with his natural texture.
“Sold for $600 to our fire captain, Brodie Campbell. He’ll be getting a guided tour of Fox Hollow Woods led by Dr. Aria Johnson.”
He stands in the middle aisle between the rows of chairs in the high school auditorium. He holds out his arms, hands up, asking for the customary hug. On wobbly legs, I carefully descend the stairs and walk his way. Why did I wear heels? I own literally one pair and now is the time I choose to wear them?
I don’t know how to feel. Does this make up for everything? Is he forgiven? Do I want to forgive him?
Do I want to hug him, or deny him and give him a fist bump or something?
