“They don’t do markets.”
“But this is a street fair. Completely different.”
“You’ll need to convince them of that,” Noah replied.
Sunshine Polo slumped back as if wounded by Noah’s response. “Things really have changed,” he muttered.
“Probably for the better, yeah.”
He slumped even more. “Well, I’ll be in touch with you. Thanks for the talk.”
Not even thirty seconds had passed since Sunshine Polo turned his attention on the babka vendor when a woman bustled up to the table, calling, “I don’t usually see you here, Noah Barden. To what do we owe this pleasure?”
Noah reached for the back of his neck again. “Schedules change,” he said. “I go wherever they send me.”
“It’s a good thing they sent you here today.” She pulled off her mint green bucket hat and set it atop the goods in her compact wagon. “We’re starting up a new program with the Narragansett Bay senior centers. Boxed meals for the shut-ins. We wanted to run it out of Middletown or North Kingstown but we can’t find a commercial kitchen big enough for the volume we need. Then I remembered you have a brand spanking new kitchen over there at Little Star. Is there a day we could come in to prep the meals? We’d need four or five hours each week. I promise, we’d clean up after ourselves. We’d be the perfect guests.” When he didn’t respond immediately, she went on. “It’s for a good cause. Some of these seniors don’t have much. No one looking after them. It’s heartbreaking, really. At least the Reverend has your aunt keeping her company. Some of these folks have no one.”
“I recognize that,” he said, his words straining for serenity. “Though I can’t commit to anything without talking to my bakehouse manager.”
“Oh, we won’t get in her way.”
“We have an overnight production run for our breads and a full daytime production run for everything else. I can’t tell you off the top of my head when—if—we have five hours of downtime available.” He shook his head. “I’ll have to take this back to the farm and talk it over with Ny before I can tell you one way or another, Winnie.”
“We could probably pull it off in four hours,” she said. “I might have to whip the troops into gear but we can get it done. You can count on me for that!” She dropped a hand on the table, leaned toward Noah. “Wednesdays are good for me but I can swing Fridays too.”
“Winnie, I really need to talk with—”
“We can’t have the seniors going hungry, Noah. You don’t want that any more than I do.”
I pushed a pair of jams across the table to my customer while Gennie processed the payment. Stepping toward Noah, I pressed my chest to his side and held out my hand to Winnie McGuiltTrip. “Hi. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Shay. It sounds like you have an amazing plan in the works. I know we’d love to be part of it though we might not be able to give you everything you need to make this program shine. And that’s the most important piece, Winnie. You don’t want to kick-start this and not hit the heights you have in mind. That would be devastating. For everyone.” I patted Noah’s chest until he nodded in agreement. “Here’s what I can do for you today. Send us an email with all the details. Every last one. What you’ll need—space, equipment, time, all of it—and we’ll sit down with the right people to see what we can do.” I reached into Noah’s back pocket and pulled out his wallet. I knew he kept a few business cards in there from the last time I went pawing around. “There’s the email address. I know this is going to be great, even if we aren’t the ones to make it happen with you. You have a passion inside you and I can tell it’s unstoppable.”
She took the card while giving us a warm, appraising look. “Aren’t you two something. Noah, you didn’t tell me there was a leading lady in your life.” Before Noah could respond, she continued. “And it’s about time you have one! It’s long overdue as far as I’m concerned. You’re such a handsome fellow now. I remember when you were younger. What a little meatball!”
Noah seemed to deflate and turn to stone at once. For reasons I’d yet to understand, this town was all too comfortable speaking about him unkindly and having the balls to do it to his face. It had always been this way. I’d heard the meatball comment too many times to count when we were kids. That everyone felt it was acceptable to discuss his body was the strangest thing in the world to me. It would never make sense.
“You must love that he’s in such good shape now,” Winnie said to me.
“Bodies are extremely temporary and they’re the least interesting things about us. They carry us around while we’re on this earth and there’s nothing more I can ask from my body than that. I certainly wouldn’t spend any time worrying about the size or shape of anyone else’s body. Not when I could care about their heart and their mind instead.” I gave Noah’s chest another pat. It was better than grabbing that ugly bucket hat and smacking some sense into her with it. “Is there anything else you might need from us today? I have an exquisite blackberry thyme jam that everyone is going crazy for, plus a special batch of strawberry nectarine that won’t be around for long.”
“Oh, well—” She glanced down as I gestured to the jars. “One of each. I can be a little naughty this week.”
“If jam is your version of naughty,” I said, the humor thick in my words, “you don’t want to see mine.”
“Wine doesn’t count, right?” she boomed. “It’s medicinal.”
“You’re damn right it’s medicinal,” I said, taking her money. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell on you, Winnie.”
She stowed the jars in her shopping wagon. “I’ll give you a shout on the email this week. So nice meeting you, Shay. You make such a handsome couple.”
As Winnie rotated to the next vendor and out of earshot, Gennie said, “I do not like her.”
A hearty laugh cracked out of Noah, his broad chest shaking under my palm. “She means well,” he managed.
“That’s the worst part,” I said. “It would almost be better if she recognized the toxicity wrapped around her good deeds and so-called compliments.”
His hand warm on my waist, Noah said, “You were spectacular. I don’t know how you do that thing where you change their mind without telling them they’re wrong but I love you.” He blinked hard. “I mean, I love how you handle people. You saved me twice this morning and I don’t give a shit how much jam you move today, consider your fields plowed and planted.”
Once again, these words did things in my mind. Dirty, depraved things.
