Shay hit me with a long stare. “So, what’s it like being the most in-demand guy in town?”
I took her hand. A smile forced its way across my face as she laced our fingers together. I wanted to do much more than hold her hand. I wanted to pick up where we’d left off in the pantry. But I’d spent the past few days obsessing over that exact thing and I didn’t know if we could do it. First, because I was about as smooth as sand. But also because Gennie was never out of sight. I didn’t know how to keep things stable and do right by her without forgoing my life in the process. That could not be the way this was supposed to go. It couldn’t be the cost of taking her into my care.
To this point, though, it had been the cost. Not that I’d devoted much time to sex or dating since moving back to Friendship, but Gennie’s arrival cut it all the way down. We were finally at the point that she could handle spending the day at the Castro ranch without panicking that I wouldn’t come home. Leaving her with a babysitter in the evening—even if it was someone she trusted, like Gail—was tricky. Either I left the house after she was asleep or I accepted that she wouldn’t get to bed until I was home.
None of this made for prime dating conditions, and frankly, I had no interest in going out with someone only to spend the evening loaded up with anxiety and checking my phone every three minutes.
“It’s exhausting,” I said with a laugh. “Popularity is not the gift anyone thinks it is.”
“I’m sure,” she replied. “Was it tough, taking all of this over from your parents?”
“Exhausting,” I echoed. “The expectation is that I’m just like my dad. For a lot of people, he was the heart of this town and they assumed I’d simply”—I swept an arm in front of me—“step into those shoes. I can’t tell you how many times people tell me how he would’ve handled things, or better yet, that he’d approve of what I’m doing. Or not. I get plenty of that one too.”
She murmured in agreement. “You’ve worked wonders, you know. Regardless of what your father would’ve thought, you’ve built a little empire here.”
“Fortunately for you, that empire involves fresh loaves of bread.”
“I knew it was a matter of time until you figured me out.”
She leaned into me as a family passed on her side and it took everything to hold in a groan.
As we walked, we ran into a bunch of her students. They all came over to say hello and tell her about their adventures this evening. There were prizes to show off and wild stories about the tilt-a-whirl ride to recount, and Shay listened to all of it with the same attentiveness she showed Gennie. It was unbelievable but I hadn’t formed a clear picture of Shay as a teacher until now when she was nodding enthusiastically while a kid with all the ketchup in the world smeared across his face and shirt told her about the Ferris wheel. She did thisevery day. She entertained the nonsensical ramblings of dirty children and somehow managed to impart knowledge to them.
Most of the parents didn’t even notice me. The ones who did skated a quick glance in my direction and noted my hand on her waist though they were more interested in Miss Z than anything else. That suited me just fine. I could silently stand here and let her shine all night long. It was safer too. I was never more than a second away from referring to Shay as my wife and that was the last thing she needed me saying.
The only time I had to speak was when those parents also had kids working at the creamery. They always needed me to know that Emma’s clothes still smelled like waffle cones or Zeke referred to his biceps as the double scoops. Those were the ones who blinked at me and Shay like they were trying to do mental math and they were satisfied, if not a little surprised, with the result.
After we’d greeted every small child within a five-mile radius, we meandered through the food truck lane, stopping every few feet to study the menus.
“Remember the old harvest festivals?” she asked, waving a hand at the long lines waiting at every truck. “We had stale chips and orange cheese that came out of a five-gallon can, and potato sack races.”
“With actual potato sacks,” I added. “From the Vaudereil farm.”
She peered up at me. “Did you buy that place too?”
“Yeah, but it was a clean deal. I didn’t have to do anything crazy like marry their granddaughter to get it.”
An elbow landed between my ribs. “I always knew it was like that,” she muttered.
“It’s not,” I said. “And you know it.” She gave me a sweet smile. “They moved away. I don’t remember where. The grandkids had no interest in the land but they didn’t want to sell to real estate developers. Remember Marta Vaudereil? She was the one who had theDon’t let the bastards grind you downbumper sticker. She was cutthroat. I liked that chippy old bird.”
“I do. She and Lollie were tight. They’d drink Manhattans on the porch at ten in the morning and, as they’d say, shoot the shit.” She laughed. “What did you do with their potato farm?”
“We turned the old farmhouse into the bakery and we grow a ton of vegetables on that land. Asparagus, carrots, lettuce, squash. It’s the reason we were able to start a community-supported agriculture box. Before that, we just didn’t have enough variety to justify the price.” I pointed at the bounce house in the middle of the track loop. “These kids have it good. Remember the hay bale maze on the football field? That thing was a nightmare.”
“Speaking of nightmares,” Shay said, “don’t look now but your friend Christiane is headed this way.”
Immediately, I searched the crowd to find Gennie. If Christiane Manning was here, so were her kids, and I needed to know they weren’t busy tormenting my niece.
“She’s at the water gun game.” Shay nudged me as she tipped her chin toward the stall on the opposite side of the field. “And she’s with a friend. Can you see her? That girl with the ponytail. They’re playing together.”
“Noah! Hello, hello! Noah, over here!”
I didn’t bother repressing this groan but I did tighten my grip on Shay’s waist. It was nice touching her this way, without the weight of faking it on my shoulders. I didn’t have to worry whether she was gritting her teeth to get through it. Not when I knew how it felt to have her lock her legs around my waist. “Christiane.”
The woman smiled at me but there was something singular about her gaze, a specificity that refused to see Shay at my side. “Would you look at this? After all those months of planning, I knew this festival would go off without a hitch. And it’s so good to get everyone out in the community, don’t you think?” she asked, turning and gesturing to the carnival. “I have to say, this is quite a success.”
I nodded, waiting for her to acknowledge my wife’s existence. When it didn’t come, I said, “Yeah, Shay and I were just talking about that.”
