I smiled, but it wobbled and my laugh came out all squeaky. “I guess it was nice to hang out. You sure can put the pizza away, though.”
“Look who’s talking,” he murmured, reminding me I’d had three slices myself.
Luckily, my dad had an entire personal supreme pizza to himself—it was waiting for him in the oven. I couldn’t stand all those vegetables on a dish that was supposed to be all about the sauce and cheese.
“Tell your dad thanks for letting me stick around,” he said as I walked him to the door. “It was cool of him. I know if I were a dad, I wouldn’t leave some random guy alone with my pretty daughter.”
I stood staring at him in shock as he crossed over to the porch before turning back to say good-bye. I might have muttered a response, but couldn’t remember being able to form coherent words. Yet, once he was gone and the door was closed, I turned to lean against it, a dopey grin on my face.
It was happening. I’d tried to avoid it, but there was no fighting it now.
He gave me his favorite book.
He called me Bell.
He fought for me when another guy tried to treat me like crap.
He liked being around me.
He was supposed to be ugly, but to me, there was more than met the eye.
That did it. I had developed a stupid, girlish, wildly inappropriate crush on Tate Baldwin.
“Hey, Dad! Bye, Dad!”
My father poked his head through the open door of his bedroom as I breezed past, in a hurry to get back to Baldwin House to pick up Emma and Max. I had come home for a quick change of clothes and to put on more comfortable walking shoes. Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin were both burning the midnight oil at work, and had asked me to stay late yet again. The kids had been disappointed by the last-minute change of plans, as their parents had promised to take them to Wellhollow Springs’ annual summer festival. So, I’d volunteered to take them instead. Ezra was keeping an eye on them while I ran home to change and grab some extra spending cash.
“Hey, hold up,” he called, following me down the hall.
I paused in the living room, turning to face him. “Kids are waiting, Dad.”
He laughed, reaching out to grab and hug me. “I know, but I’ve barely seen you all week. Babysitting… dinners at Charlene’s… pizza dates in the living room…”
Glancing up at him with a smirk, I stifled a laugh. “Dad, it wasn’t a ‘date’. He just happened to come by after I’d already ordered. You’re the one who told him to stay and eat.”
He shrugged but kept an arm around me, keeping me from escape. “True. Is he going with you and the kids to the festival?”
I had considered asking, but thought better of it. “No. Crowded events aren’t really his thing. Dad, what are you really trying to ask me?”
Giving me his most innocent face, he avoided my gaze. “I’m not trying to be nosy or anything, just…”
Patting his belly, I rose up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Stop worrying. Tate and I have become friends. That’s all.”
“Okay, munchkin,” he replied, finally letting me go. “Tate seems like a nice guy but… well, he did used to have quite a reputation with girls. As your father, it’s my job to make sure you don’t get hurt.”
Thinking of Lindsay, I cringed. Tate’s reputation certainly preceded him. But that should only be a problem if I were dating him. Which I most certainly was not.
“I know you want to protect me, but that won’t always be possible, you know,” I reminded him. “But I love that you want to try. You don’t need to worry. Tate has been through a lot, and he’s changed. I think he just really needs a good friend, you know?”
Dad gave me a smile. “Yes, of course. Just don’t forget that the boy has eyes. You’re a beautiful girl, and… you know… hormones.”
I giggled. “We had the talk, Dad. I’m well aware of the, you know, hormones.”
He made a face. “You and Mom had the talk… I tuned it all out and tried to pretend my baby girl wasn’t old enough for all that.”
“Thank goodness for Mom, then.” Glancing at my phone, I shoved it in my back pocket and continued toward the door. “Gotta go, Dad. Bye!”
“Have fun,” he called out, following me to the door. “Bring me back a funnel cake!”
Giving him a thumbs-up, I got into the car and quickly cranked it. I made the drive back to Baldwin House, trying not to think too much about Dad’s warning. Apparently, he’d seen the same thing I’d realized last night when Tate had dropped by. I’d never been good at controlling my facial expressions, which mean if my Dad could see it, Tate could too.
How embarrassing.
It was just a little crush, and it would pass. There was no reason it had to turn into a thing. But what if Tate wanted it to be a thing? What if he felt the same way about me?
I told myself to get real. Even if he did, there was no way it could last. Our coming together had been completely accidental. Once the summer ended, what reason would I have to keep seeing him?
Arriving back at the mansion, I pushed those thought aside, deciding to throw myself into having a good time with the kids tonight. They’d both been really excited when I’d stepped in to take them—even Max, who had begun to warm up to me a bit more, seeming to realize I was there to stay.
Ezra and the kids met me outside the front door, smiling down at me as I ascended the front steps.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” he quipped. “I thought I was going to have to tranquilize this one.”
He indicated Emma, who bounced up and down beside him, her usual French braids hanging beneath a pink baseball cap. Max stood on the other side of Ezra’s chair, holding his sister’s booster seat in one hand.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry!” she whined. “We have to get there before they run out of cotton candy!”
“Who cares about cotton candy?” Max grumbled, giving her an annoyed look. “I want to get there before the lines for all the good rides get too long.”
Laughing, I reached for Emma’s hand. “Okay, okay. Let’s go!”
“Wait,” Ezra said before we could take off. He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and retrieved an envelope. “Faith and Douglas left money for the kids. They are to spend every cent.”
Snatching the envelope out of the air before Ezra could place it in my hand, Max took off down the stairs.
“Score!”
Following with Emma’s hand in mine, I laughed. “Hey, give that back!”
“Have a good time,” Ezra called out before turning to return to the house.
I caught up to Max and retrieved the money, shoving the envelope into my shoulder bag before helping Emma into her booster and strapping her in. Max climbed in on the other side, buckling himself in.
Within seconds, we were on our way through the gates of the estate and toward the edge of town, to a large stretch of green field that had always been reserved as a fairgrounds of sorts. All the town’s major outdoor events happened there.
“Did you guys eat dinner yet?” I asked. “If not, we hit the corn dog stand first.”
“You eat those things?”
I glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “You don’t?”
He shrugged. “Never had one.”
“Never had a… okay, that’s it. First order of business—carnival corn dogs. You can’t go to the fair and not get one. The food is the best part! Me and my dad used to have a contest to see who could eat the most without hurling on the rides.”
I laughed at the memory, a bit of sadness creeping in at the memory of Mom being grossed out by Dad and me. She’d spend the entire night of the fair making pig noises at us as we scarfed down corn dogs, chili fries, and funnel cakes between whirling rides.
“Your dad sounds cool,” Max said, his voice lowering. “My dad never does fun stuff with us.”
I pulled up behind a row of cars at a red light, and glanced back at Max. He was staring out his window, shoulders slumped a bit. Guilt pricked my cons
cience. I’d been so focused on the ghosts and Tate that I’d lost sight of the reason Max had been so frosty toward me in the first place. Poor kid probably felt neglected by everyone in his life.
“I’m sure he’d like to,” I said—which might not have even been true. I didn’t know much about Douglas Baldwin, except for the fact that he might be a murderer.
“Nah,” Max muttered. “He doesn’t care about anything except making money.”
Flashes of bank statements and checks filled with zeroes filled my mind. That much might be true.
“And all Mom cares about is Tate,” he continued, stringing together more words than he had since our confrontation on the third floor of the house. “Ever since he got sick, she’s forgotten all about me and Emma. And Tate doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
My heart felt as if someone squeezed it in a tight fist. This poor kid… he really felt as if no one cared about him. With a weak smile, I tried to cheer him up. “No one’s parents are perfect. I’m sure yours do the best they can.”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
Reaching out, I placed a hand on his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I like hanging out with you guys. And I think Tate would hang out with you more if he knew you wanted him to. He might get the sense that you don’t want him around.”
Max sighed and met my gaze. “Do you think so?”
I couldn’t speak for Tate, but the night we’d sat together in the den for movies, he’d seemed hurt by Max’s behavior toward him. Apparently, both brothers misunderstood each other and just needed to talk.
“I do,” I told him as we drew near the fairgrounds.
Seeming satisfied with that, Max dropped the subject, and he and Emma turned to discussing what they wanted to do after we’d eaten. Since we’d arrived early, it didn’t take long to find a parking spot—the place would be overrun as the sun went down and the heat began to fade.
“Okay, guys,” I told them as we exited the car and headed for the entrance. “Stay close to me, please. It’s going to be crowded, and I don’t want to lose either of you.”
Emma put her hand in mine and held on tight, while Max kept pace with me on my other side. We paused at the entrance to buy tickets for the rides first, and then began searching for a food booth with a short line. We found one close to the large, wooden stage, where live music would be played by various local bands every night of the week. Quickly grabbing three corn dogs, orders of fries, and lemonade, we found a place to sit at a cluster of picnic tables near the stage.
I grinned as I watched Max destroy his corn dog in four huge bites. “What was that you said about corn dogs earlier?”
He smiled sheepishly, swallowing his last bite. “Can I have another one?”
Nodding, I reached back into the bag slung across my body and hanging at my hip. Handing him a few bills, I watched as he dashed toward the closest stand and got in line. Beside me, Emma dunked her fries in ketchup, humming happily while she ate, her little feet swinging beneath the bench seat.
While we waited for Max to return, the stage began to fill with people—members of the first act setting up to begin performing. Near the foot of the stairs leading up to the platform, I spotted the current mayor—Felicia Haines. Dressed in a pair of jeans and crisp, white blouse, she smiled and talked to the man beside her, a soft breeze teasing the strands of short, dark hair laying against her forehead. I paused, a handful of fries halfway to my mouth, as I realized the man was her father—former mayor Canton Haines.
I shot a glance at Max, making sure he was still in line, and then went back to studying the pair. Canton’s age had begun to show in the deep lines marring his dark skin, and the salt mixed in with the pepper of his short, wooly hair. A thick mustache covered his upper lip, tinged with gray strands. He held a large paper cup with a straw in one hand, taking slow sip from it as he spoke to his daughter—a petite woman who reminded me a lot of Halle Berry. With tawny skin and dark brown hair cut into a pixie style, she had her father’s dark eyes but her mother’s fine-boned features. Mrs. Haines was nowhere to be seen, but she was known for her big, blonde hair. My father always joked that Johnson’s Pharmacy never had any hairspray because Nancy Haines had bought it all. A true southern belle, Nancy talked with an accent, loved her rhinestones, and could make a mean casserole—many of which I’d tasted at various town functions.
Max returned, plunking onto the bench across from Emma and me with his back to the stage. He silently attacked his second corn dog, while I gazed over his head at the platform.
Mayor Felicia took the short walk up to the microphone, smiling down at the growing crowd waiting for her to kick off the weeklong festival. Below, her father left the side stage area, finding a seat at one of the empty picnic tables.
“Good evening, everyone,” Felicia began. “Welcome to the Wellhollow Springs eightieth annual summer festival.”
Polite applause rose from the crowd, along with a few whistles and cheers.
“This year brings back a lot of our fair favorites, as well as a few new things for everyone to enjoy. Make sure you grab a map of the fairgrounds, along with an itinerary from any of the ticket booths out there to keep up with everything we’ve got going on. Now, I hope everyone is ready for some good music!”
More cheers from the crowd. Glancing back over at Canton, I noticed he didn’t even look at his daughter. Instead, his gaze remained focused inside the cup he held in his hand.
“Please welcome our first act to the stage,” Felicia continued. “They have been opening the Wellhollow Springs summer festival every year for the past decade. Give it up for Aimless Nation!”
The band took the stage, striking up the first chords of their song, as the mayor smiled and waved to the crowd before making her exit. She was met at the foot of the stage steps by a reporter and camera crew for the local news, who were likely working on their yearly festival report—where they followed the mayor through the fairgrounds to show everyone what all there would be to do for the week.
All around us, people surged toward the stage, while others headed out in to the carnival area, ready for rides and games.
Looking back at the table where Canton had been, I found he was now gone. With a sigh, I went back to my dinner. The kids were antsy to get going, and I’d promised myself I would show them a good time.
After finishing up, we threw our trash away and made our way toward the rides, my ears filled with the chatter of the kids as they talked about what they wanted to ride first. The first half hour blew past me in a blur of rides and more food, bringing up the nostalgia of doing this past summers with my parents. Coming upon yet another ride, we hopped in line, sharing a bag of cotton candy while waiting. We had just reached the front when I spotted Canton again, grabbing another drink at one of the food stands.
“You know what?” I said to Max, a sudden idea gripping me. “You two go on the ride without me. I need to make a phone call.”
Emma frowned. “I want you to come too, Bellamy!”
I gave her a smile and nudged her through the little gate to the ride’s enclosure. “Stay with Max and have fun on the ride, honey. I’ll be right here when you get off, okay?”
Nodding reluctantly, she let an impatient Max haul her off toward the ride, while I made a beeline for the former mayor, checking over my shoulder a few times to ensure they got onto the ride. What I wanted to do was risky, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to attempt to find out why the former mayor had written Douglas Baldwin a multi-million-dollar check.
Reaching into my bag, I found a palm-sized spiral notebook and pen inside, grateful I always carried them with me. Adjusting my glasses, I walked up to him just as he was turning away from the booth, drink in hand.
“Hi there,” I said in my most cheerful voice.
Giving me a curious glance, he halted before he could run into me. His drink sloshed over the sides and the odor of beer hit my nostrils.
“Hello,” he grumbled, using a
napkin to wipe his now-wet hand.
“I’m Bellamy McGuire, and I’m working on a summer project about the legacy of Wellhollow Springs. It’ll become an article in the first issue of next school year’s paper. Would you mind if I interviewed you, Mayor Haines?”
The look he gave me told me the last thing he wanted was to talk to some strange kid. He shrugged. “I’m not the mayor anymore. My daughter is.”
I nodded, keeping a smile plastered on my face. “Yes, I know. I intend to interview her also, but I need you, too. The legacy of you passing the torch to your daughter as mayor of Wellhollow Springs will be a big part of my story.”
Sighing, he tossed the napkin into a trash can close to us and shrugged. “Okay. Just a few questions.”
“Great,” I said, raising my pen to take notes on the pad. “After all you’ve accomplished, how does it feel to watch your daughter take the reins as our towns’ first female mayor?”
“Um, proud, of course,” he answered distractedly, swaying a bit on his feet.
The man was stinking drunk. Since he didn’t elaborate, I launched into my next question.
“What would you like to see her accomplish that you perhaps didn’t get a chance to?”
He scoffed as if I’d insulted him. “She’d be hard pressed to find many problems to fix in Wellhollow Springs. It’s a wonderful town filled with great people. I would hope she’d simply continue in my footsteps and keep our town the best place to live in Georgia.”
Nodding, I pretended to write down what he’d said. “Yes, interesting. But a lot of changes have been made in the few years since you were mayor. For instance, the emergence of East Valley.”
He rubbed his chin with his free hand. “East Valley will bring a lot of wonderful new opportunities to our town. It’s an exciting development that I’ve enjoyed watching come to fruition.”
Leaning in closer, I went for the kill. “Yes, you’re very invested in East Valley from what I understand. You attended its ground-breaking ceremony and lauded it in an interview as a great boost for our local economy.”
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