Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
There’s a lot being offered at the fair. From fish fry and food trucks to beer kegs and coffee carts. Along with stalls for the local wineries. A tractor pulling a line of carts loaded with people chugs along nearby and laughter can be heard coming out of the hay maze. But he steers us toward the dunk tank. With good reason.
“Shanti,” says Brian in a pleading voice. “C’mon, babe. There’s no need to be like this. I thought we were friends!”
Shanti pins him with her stare. “Not even a little. And do not call me babe.”
Brian is seated above a tankful of water and there’s a whole lot of ice in there. No wonder he looks cold and miserable. His black eye from last night doesn’t help his overall appearance. Connor is carrying off his injuries with style. Like a rebel or a rogue. Someone a little dangerous and a lot hot. But Brian brings none of that to the picture in his sodden-wet polo and matching shorts. It’s just a whole lot of mediocre white man getting an involuntary ice bath.
One of the baristas from the café holds out a trucker’s cap. “Shanti’s going to keep dunking him until her arm gets tired. Support the effort. All funds go to charity.”
“How much a throw?” asks Connor.
“Five dollars for two balls.”
He takes a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and drops it in the hat. I do likewise with a ten. Should have brought more cash with me. Supporting local charities while subjecting Brian to repeated ice baths is highly important. A joy for all to see.
“You want a try?” asks Shanti.
“You got it covered.” Connor shakes his head.
Her smile is full of sharp teeth. “Yes, I do.”
I give her a double thumbs up. No one needs to see me attempt sport.
Shanti grips the ball tight and steadies herself, lifts her leg as she draws back her arm, and then lets the ball fly. The woman has serious form. Her ball speeds through the air and hits the target dead center with a mighty bang. Brian drops into the pool and everyone cheers.
“Goodness. That never gets old,” says Diane, standing nearby. She’s wearing linen and pearls as always. The man standing beside her is of a similar age. He’s handsome with a bald head and a chunky gold watch on his wrist that must be worth a small fortune. Shanti said they were snowbirds down from Alaska, but when the winter ended, they decided to stay. Diane turns to her husband. “Put another fifty in the boy’s cap, Paul.”
The man does as he’s told.
“Best pitcher the high school ever had,” says Connor. “A back injury stopped her from going pro.”
Diane clicks her tongue. “Such a shame. Though she runs an excellent business.”
Brian meanwhile is climbing out of the tank. The stream of profanities he’s spewing is shocking and also hilarious.
“Mind your language,” shouts Diane. “This is a family friendly event.”
He gives her the stink eye and she grins. No idea how he made an enemy of the lady. Brian seems to have the happy ability to anger everyone he meets. But people sure are getting their revenge today. Putting Brian in the seat was a solid moneymaking decision.
A man with white hair and a neat beard approaches the tank. “What’s this I hear about foul language?”
“Sorry, Pastor Mike,” says Brian.
He crosses his arms and shakes his head. Such disapproval in his stare.
“Get your butt back on the seat already,” says Shanti. “Time is wasting.”
Pastor Mike checks the tank. “I’ll go fetch more ice in just a minute.”
Brian’s mouth gapes like a fish. One who clearly doesn’t appreciate cold water. “But—”
“Come along now, Brian,” orders Pastor Mike. “So good of your father to donate your time to the cause. Our children’s literacy program applauds your effort. Who wants to see Brian go for a swim? Two throws for five dollars!”
We follow our ears toward the stage. There’s a sea of picnic blankets spread across the grass. Which explains why they call it picnic in the park. So many people are here hanging out, listening to the music, eating and drinking and making merry. All beneath a suitably atmospheric blue and white sky. But the clouds are fluffy and nonthreatening. A warm salt wind is blowing in off the water and summer doesn’t get much better than this. With Connor’s arm slung around my neck and his big warm body by my side…this is everything I ever dreamed of and more.
Nicole and Katja are doing a duet. Stop Dragging My Heart Around by Stevie Nicks and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. We know Nicole loves to send a message. Katja seems to have also taken to the idea. Though of course music is going to be a musician’s form of communication. And this song has clearly been chosen with care, given the grim expression on one person’s face.