by Jacie Floyd
As predicted, Barb feigned a twisted ankle in the first inning. With the cries for a medic, Zach claimed to be off-duty. Josh jogged out to help Barb off the field. Brady went in as her replacement at short stop.
Brady and Zach kept up a tag team of hits, but Kate and Liam kept pace with them in what turned out to be a batting exhibition, egging one another on to more hits.
George Mason, the reporter who’d been at the council meeting, came by to chat up Barb and introduce himself to Harper. “Sorry I didn’t get to meet you yesterday at the meeting, but I’d love to interview you for the next edition of the paper.”
“Come by the library tomorrow morning. I’ll be happy to talk to you.”
“I’ll do that.” He tapped a note into his phone. “I wanted to get a firsthand look at the vandalism I’ve been hearing about, too.”
“We’re not sure it’s vandalism, exactly.” Barb spun the situation with political skill. “You might want to hold off on that story or check with Mick.”
“What would you call it if not vandalism, Barb?” George asked.
“Well, vandalism, sure, but there’s a big difference between malicious vandalism and kids painting graffiti and some homeless guys trying to keep warm.”
“Which would you say it was, Ms. Simmons?” George cocked his head in Harper’s direction.
Barb verbally jumped in again. “It’s still being investigated, George. I don’t think Jimbo would appreciate having Ms. Simmons make a statement that might interfere with an ongoing investigation.”
“Got ya.” He snapped his tablet shut. “I’ll come by tomorrow, Ms. Simmons, to do an in-depth interview about your move here, how you like Sunnyside, if you like the color of your new curtains, if you prefer long or short walks on the beach, and favor world peace. Riveting topics like that.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” She smothered her smile at his wry comments. Here was someone else who might turn out to be an ally.
“Be careful what you say to the press, Harper.” Barb eyed the scruffy reporter as he ambled away. “Statements about the library will need to be approved by the town council. Anything regarding the investigation should be referred to the Sheriff’s Department.”
“I frequently gave press statements in Chicago.” She tried not to resent the fact that Barb was treating her like a child.
“Handle a lot of breaking news about the new story-time hours, did you?” Barb lifted an eyebrow.
Harper blinked. “Probably as many as you field about cow-in-the road episodes.” They didn’t know her here and didn’t seem to want to get to know her. They didn’t know what she could and couldn’t handle. In time, they might learn to have the appropriate confidence in her, but she hadn’t earned that from them yet. “Everything’s relative. What’s headline news here won’t get a mention someplace else.”
“Everything you do or say here will make headlines.” “Barb pulled off her sunglasses and polished them on a napkin. “You have to assume your actions are always being watched and reported. Even if it’s not in the paper, people talk. And talk. Small-town life isn’t an easy road, especially for an outsider.”
“Thanks for the tip. I don’t do anything all that interesting, so they should get bored pretty fast.”
On the field, Zach caught a high pop-up to end the inning. The teams were switching places. Instead of trotting to the dugout, he loped her way with the grace of a professional athlete. A few feet away, he tossed Harper the ball and tipped his cap when she caught it. Although the spectators cheered his performance, they kept their eyes glued on Harper. Raising her arms triumphantly, she gave a fake bow and hoped everyone assumed her blush was from the heat, not from being singled out by Zach.
“Take it from one who knows.” Barb placed a hand on Harper’s forearm and grimaced. “They’ll never get bored.”
Cassie appeared, wearing a red, white, and blue Sunnyside T-shirt, denim shorts, and tennis shoes. Accompanied by a handsome young man with impressive muscles, she carried the bucket for library donations. Harper dropped in a twenty as did Josh.
“Thanks,” the young boy mumbled.
“This is Noah Connor,” Cassie informed Harper. “He’s an old friend from high school.”
“Hi, Noah. Do you still live in Sunnyside?”
“My family does. I go to IU, but I’m home for the summer.”
“He wouldn’t miss the annual festival. How are you enjoying your first one?”
“Love it.” Harper fanned herself with her hand. “If I can manage not to pass out from the heat. That would be embarrassing.”
“At least you’re sitting with Josh. He could fix you right up. And you’re dressed for the day. That’s a beautiful halter top.” Cassie studied Harper’s outfit. “So sexy. My father would drop dead of a heart attack if I wore a top like that, but you really carry it off without looking, you know, slutty. Is that silk?”
Sexy? Really? Harper was completely covered with no visible cleavage. When she’d dressed this morning, she’d been thinking cool and casual top and denim skirt. But now, looking around, she saw that most people wore T-shirts or tanks with denim or khaki shorts. Silk was probably way over the top for a street fair. Cripes, even when she tried to blend in, her instincts led her astray.
“It’s a silk blend.” Harper wasn’t about to admit the truth. “My mother made it, so I’m not exactly sure what it is.”
But Cassie wasn’t fooled. “It sure looks like silk. Aren’t you afraid of dripping something on it and ruining it?”
“Oh, no,” Harper protested. “My mother made it, like I said. It’s nothing special. Why aren’t you playing in the softball game?”
Cassie tossed her long braid over her shoulder. “I’d like to, but Dad always volunteers me to work. Which can be fun, too.”
“Speaking of your dad.” Noah touched Cassie’s elbow. “He’s looking at us now, probably wondering why we’re standing around instead of hitting people up for donations.”
“Right, we better move on. See you later, Harper. Come on, Noah.”
Harper excused herself to the others, so she could make a purchase at the concession stand.
“Can I help you?” a teenage girl with freckles asked.
“I don’t know.” Harper looked up to read the menu board. “What’s good?”
“The pulled pork is our top seller,” the girl enthused. “And my dad’s out back grilling the burgers. They’re always a hit.”
“Do you have veggie burgers?”
“No, just ham.” The girl laughed. “I mean, they’re made from beef. But you know, they’re hamburgers. Or cheeseburgers.”
“I’ve heard the funnel cakes are good.”
“Yum-o,” the teenager agreed. “There’s nothing better than fried dough.”
Fascinated, Harper watched a chunky woman in the booth fry the batter, drain the cooked dough, then douse it with powdered sugar. “Orders ready, Mindy.”
The calories were visibly preparing to make the leap from the plate to Harper’s hips.
“Thanks, Mom.” Mindy brought the plate over to the window. “Do you want strawberries and whipped cream on that? It’s a dollar extra.”
“Let’s go all out. It’s for a good cause. Besides, fruit. That’s healthy, right?”
Mindy laughed. “About as healthy as anything you’re going to get around here today.”
She offered Harper change for her ten, but she waived it back into the cash drawer. Inhaling the aroma of hot grease, batter, sugar, and strawberries, the first bite melted on her tongue like heaven. Mindy piped up again.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“How’d you get your hair like that?”
“This style or this color?” she asked, although it didn’t matter. Her genius hairstylist was the reason for both.
“That color! It’s fabulous!”
“Thank you!” Good to know the money she’d spent splurging on her hair right before she left
Chicago had been well-spent. “I’ll tell my stylist you said so.”
“Does someone in town do it or do you go to Lincoln?”
“Someone in Chicago, actually.”
The girl slumped in disappointment. “That figures.”
“Leave the new librarian alone, Mindy.” Her mom nodded at the line growing behind Harper. “You have other customers to help.”
On that note, Harper moved off, returning to her seat beside Barb. Kate hit her second home run for her fourth RBI, in the top of the ninth, taking the merchants ahead of the city with a score of nine-to-eight. The first two batters for the city struck out, but Brady came to the plate and walloped a ground-rule double.
Up next, Zach hit it out of the park to the jubilation of the city employees, their friends and families, and most of the women in attendance. The crowd rushed the field, cheering and hoisting Zach and Brady onto their shoulders.
Harper stayed to watch the trophy ceremony. Joint MVPs were awarded to Brady and Zach. She would have liked to talk to Zach, but he was surrounded by a herd of admirers, so she headed back to the town square where the library social hour would soon begin.
Even more people were crowded into the town square than had been there earlier. She stood on tiptoe to see what each booth had for sale, even though it was mostly food she wouldn’t or couldn’t eat—like fried Snickers or corn dogs. But she noticed a small booth with an exterior painted like the Taj Mahal tucked into an out-of-the-way corner. It didn’t have the long lines of the other stands, but the scent of curry wafted toward her. As she drew closer, she spotted Daxina inside the booth. Maybe this booth would have food that suited Harper’s normal diet better than some of the others.
“Hello.” Harper greeted Daxina warmly. “Your menu looks and smells wonderful. I’ve been dying for some real food.”
“I’m happy you are pleased. Most of the people here aren’t familiar with our Indian fare. It is good to have someone stop by who appreciates our cuisine. How may I help you?”
Harper ordered a lentil pilaf. Daxina looked at her with surprise.
“Are you a vegetarian?”
“Yes,” Harper admitted. “Are you? So far, it hasn’t been easy going here. Zach said there aren’t any other vegetarians in town.”
“Zach? You mean the most handsome doctor? He probably doesn’t know my family follows a vegetarian diet. Since we are outsiders, he doesn’t know us that well.”
“Why would he...” She hated to ask because it seemed so unlike him, but Daxina was insinuating something Harper found unacceptable. “Is he prejudiced against you for being Indian?”
“Oh, no. It is just that the townspeople don’t quickly accept anyone who wasn’t born here. To them, we are all outsiders. You will see. It takes many years for to be accepted here.”
“How long has your family lived in Sunnyside?”
“Five years since we bought our business. We would like to have a restaurant. My mother, she is an amazing cook, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, amazing.” Harper savored ach bite.
“But the people of Sunnyside would not accept our type of food, and we could not make a living. When we have a booth at the festivals like this, most of our customers are visitors from out-of-town. We have thought of moving to St. Louis or Chicago, or even Springfield, where there would be more acceptance, but my parents don’t want to start over again.”
“Aren’t they happy with their QuikStop?”
“Yes, they are happy. But in their country they did many things. And here, they would like to do more.”
An outsider herself, Harper was hardly one to give advice. But she liked this girl with the quiet dignity. “Is your brother back from Urbana yet? I could really use his help at the library if he would like to come back to work for us.”
“Yes. He came home yesterday and went to the library in the afternoon, but it was closed.”
“The work will start up again tomorrow. If you could ask him to come see me then, I’d appreciate it.”
“I will tell him.”
A customer in a denim Harley vest came up behind her and Harper moved aside, feeling like she’d made her first friend in Sunnyside. She hoped she had anyway. Zach probably didn’t count. Like he’d said to Kate, he considered Harper one more responsibility to add to the rest of the people he took care of.
Remembering the unexpected kiss he’d given her made her wonder what that had meant—if anything. For all she knew, he kissed everyone he met, coming and going. But she hadn’t noticed that practice at the diner or the town council meeting. And it hadn’t felt like a whim or a courtesy.
Maybe it did mean more.
Which was a good thing because she sure didn’t make any friends at the library social hour. Everyone there introduced themselves and greeted her. But most had only come to gawk and didn’t make an attempt to get to know her. None of them were outwardly rude, but the word standoffish might apply.
And the food consisted of the typical Midwestern appetizers that leaned heavily on meat, fats, and cheeses.
When Harper fixed her plate, her neighbor, Brianna, pointed out the beanie-weenie dish she’d brought. “I hear you’re a vegetarian. The little hotdogs are easy to spot if you want to pick them out.”
Did she really think vegetarianism worked like that? About a dozen women leaned in to listen in on the exchange. “Thanks, I’m sure it’s delicious.”
“It’s one of my kid’s favorite meals.”
“I’m sure it is.” Avoiding chicken puffs, wings, chili-cheese dip, and pigs in a blanket, Harper nibbled a soggy spinach mini-quiche, sipped orange-sherbet punch, and smiled, smiled, smiled.
The town council was there, all but Zach. His sister was in attendance with Kate. Rachel explained that Zach had been called to the hospital. The owner of the diner and some of what Harper assumed were the “church ladies” kept asking her which church she planned to attend. And although they talked effusively to one another, she could see that there were definitely rivaling factions between the denominations.
If she was asked one more time if she was a Presbyterian or a Baptist, she planned to claim to be a Hindu Mystic. Not that they would dislike that answer any more than they disliked the fact that she was non-denominational. In this crowd, that answer seemed to be as unacceptable as devil-worship.
Harper had the opportunity to meet Myrna Hopper, the former librarian. When they were introduced, the entire assemblage held its breath to see how Myrna would react. And after that, they all took their cue of polite indifference from her.
The woman could have chosen to make the moment more difficult. She was pleasant, if not warm. Harper asked to meet with her privately to get the older woman’s opinion on a few things and discuss some of the renovations. Myrna said she’d check her schedule, but that might be possible. The retired librarian might have been willing to chat longer, but a large, overbearing man came over and unceremoniously pulled her away.
“Don’t mind him,” a lady covered in cat hair said to Harper after she’d been left standing alone in the middle of the room. “That’s Bennie, Myrna’s brother. He’s mostly harmless. They call him autistic now, him being kind of an artistic genius and all. But back when he was a child, we didn’t know that word and people just thought he was odd.”
The cat-hair lady might know a thing or two about odd herself. She wore flowered everything—hat, dress, shoes, and purse. But even with strange little old ladies, Harper knew better than to gossip about the natives. “It’s sweet how he seems so protective of Myrna.”
“Protective and devoted, but most of us try not to get on his bad side. He can be a bit touchy.” She tucked her flowered clutch under her arm and stuck her hand toward Harper. “My name is Cora Conner, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Of course, the crazy cat lady. Harper should have guessed. But since Cora was just about the first person at this event to find any pleasure in making her acquaintance, Harper was happy to carry on a conversa
tion with her. “I’m Harper.”
“I know,” Cora said. “I understand you’ve traveled many places.”
Where had the cat lady heard that? “Yes, I’ve been lucky to be able to visit many interesting countries.”
“I love to travel, too. I just returned from Dubai. Have you been to Dubai? Fascinating place, but hot! Lordy, I’ve never been anywhere so hot in my life. But I got to go to dinner at the Sultan’s palace, and it was a fancy spread that went on for hours, let me tell you, with some of the oddest things to eat I’ve ever seen. Some of the dishes looked like plain old insects cooked in oil and spices, but I passed on those.”
Harper had never been to Dubai, but it turned out she and Cora had been to many of the same places. A widow, Cora had her cats and a small bed and breakfast that kept her busy much of the time. But as often as she could, she traveled with her thoughtful nephew. Andy was obscenely wealthy, owned his own airplane, and took the very best care of her. She offered to donate some books she’d collected on her travels to the library.
She jabbered on a bit, but Harper found her conversation delightful if not necessarily grounded in fact. People around them rolled their eyes at Cora’s more outrageous anecdotes, but Harper hoped she was as enthusiastic and positive about life when she was in her seventies as Cora seemed to be.
A very bright and attractive woman in her late forties with an appealing air of self-possession seemed to be in charge of the social hour. She moved around the room making sure the trays and punch bowls were kept filled. She mingled and spoke with everyone in their turn, including Harper.
Although she seemed very pleasant and competent, the other women didn’t include her in their circles. But Harper couldn’t see what there would be to dislike about her. She introduced herself as Claire Willoughby.
“Really? Are you married to or otherwise related to Mick Willoughby?”
“Married,” Claire confirmed. “And mother to Cassie, who you’ve also met.”
“And you’re hosting this event?”
“Mick suggested it, and I was given the reins by default.”
