“Really?” I looked at her askance. “I offered you free passes at the beginning of Faire, and you didn’t want to go.”
“Because of my leg.”
I narrowed my eyes. “It wasn’t because of your leg. You said it sounded like a boring way to spend a day.”
“Maybe I changed my mind.” A small smile played around her mouth. “I should probably see what my daughter’s been up to all summer, don’t you think? I’ll bring some tomatoes, we can chuck them at Simon.”
Caitlin snorted, and I had to laugh at this show of sisterly support. “That’s okay.” After a week apart, anger and indignation had started to fade, replaced mostly by a dull aching sadness. I missed Simon. But calling him would be useless. When it came down to Faire or me, I knew where his priorities lay. He was stuck in the past, and until he could move on, there was nothing there for me.
“So you’re okay?” April asked.
“Yeah.” I sighed the word, which made it pretty unconvincing. “I will be.” Better.
“Good. Let’s go objectify men in kilts tomorrow.”
That brought a smile to my face. Mitch would be happy to oblige us, I was sure.
“Sure,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
Twenty-three
It felt strange to pull into the regular parking lot at Faire, where paying patrons parked. All these weeks I’d pulled into a dirt lot hidden off a side road, and Caitlin and I would forge our way in early-morning, watery sunlight to the Hollow. But this time we dropped Caitlin off, then killed time by caffeinating at a nearby coffee shop, where we fueled ourselves with coffee and bagels and stashed bottles of water in our bags before returning to Faire and parking in the front lot with the rest of the patrons.
The middle-aged volunteer working the ticket booth was named Nancy. I thought I’d seen her three times the whole summer and spoken to her once. Maybe twice. But her face lit up when she saw me, and she came around to give me a hug like we were old friends.
“Emily! So good to see you. And you must be April.” She reached over to squeeze April’s hand in an approximation of a handshake. “Your daughter has done such a great job this summer. You must be so proud.”
“I am.” April’s voice sounded the way her bemused smile looked. “I’m looking forward to seeing what she’s been doing all summer.”
“Well, you’ll usually be able to find her near—oh, I guess Emily knows where she tends to be. You’ve been here long enough, haven’t you?”
I nodded, because it was easier than explaining that I rarely left the tavern/chess field part of the grounds. But when I started digging in my purse for my wallet, Nancy waved that aside.
“You’re not paying for your tickets, are you crazy? Go on inside, enjoy the day!” She gave us a little wink. “The last day is always a little different.”
“Well.” April looked over her shoulder at Nancy as we went inside the main gate. “She was nice.”
“Nice how?” That could mean a lot of different things to April. Nice and nosy. Nice and overly friendly.
But this time April shrugged. “Just . . . nice.”
“Welcome to Willow Creek,” I said, even though she’d lived there for years. “Pretty much everyone is like that.”
She started to respond, but we passed through the main gate and walked into another world.
I shouldn’t have been awed by the sight of the Renaissance faire in full swing. But the sensory overload when you walked in was fantastic. Sunlight glowed through the bunting wound through branches above our heads. Near the front, a group of student cast members performed an intricate maypole dance to the accompaniment of prerecorded mandolin and flute. Vendors lined the lane where we walked, and every step showed me things I had never wanted in my life but suddenly needed to own. Leather-covered journals, flower crowns, handmade boots. One vendor had a booth shaped like a Romany-style wagon, selling crystals and tarot cards. My heart squeezed at the sight of the rose seller, but I was able to hustle April past her booth quickly.
“What are we checking out first?” April brandished the map we’d been given at the front.
“I know exactly where to start.” I didn’t need the map for this. I led her down the lane, winding around the patrons and cast alike. The Celtic musicians had come back for the last weekend of Faire, and I could finally catch their show.
“Oh, good call,” April murmured to me when the performers, a band called the Dueling Kilts, took the stage. Three men in kilts with acoustic instruments. One had long hair swirled up in a man bun, and another wore a devilish smile. It was like I’d tailor-made a show for her. For both of us. I hadn’t even known that about these guys. All I’d known of their act were the bits I could hear from my station at the tavern, but I had to agree I’d made a very good call indeed. They didn’t even need musical talent, really. We would have been happy standing there gazing at them.
Once the show ended and we’d each slipped a tip in the form of a couple folded bills into the waistband of a well-worn kilt, April consulted the map again. “I want to see your tavern.”
“Oh.” I froze. “No.” I’d been so distracted by all the parts of Faire I hadn’t seen that I’d forgotten about the parts of Faire that were as automatic to me as breathing. The tavern. The chess field. Simon. “No,” I said again. “We can skip that part.”
“No, we can’t.” She grabbed my arm and marched me along. “It’s before noon on a Sunday, I just saw a hot guy in a kilt, and now I need a drink. Let’s go get one.”
She would not be denied, and as we rounded the familiar bend my skin began to prickle. By the time we reached the tavern I was one large, quivering nerve ending. My senses were on high alert, my eyes darting for a glimpse of a man all in black. I didn’t know what I would do if I saw Simon. Punch him? Cry? Run away? All of the above?
But he was nowhere to be seen in the tavern, and after hugs from Stacey, Jamie, and the rest of the volunteers, followed by a round of drinks, I felt a lot calmer. Calm enough that by the time we strolled by the chess field a little while later my legs hardly shook at all. As we passed it the match was in full swing, and I kept my head turned away from it. I could do this. I could ignore him.
Actually, I couldn’t see him. As much as I tried not to look, I caught myself scanning the field, more surprised by what I didn’t see than by what I saw. I didn’t see black leather or a hat with a large red feather. I slowed my steps as Mitch stalked to the center of the board to fight, both anticipating and dreading what was coming. Surely Simon would take the field with him. But no, Mitch’s fight was with the Quarterstaff Kid instead.
I looked around for a wild moment, expecting Simon to pop out from behind a nearby tree or something. Where the hell was he? There was no way he’d shirk his responsibilities on the last day. Top priority in his life—he’d made that more than clear.
“What are we looking at . . . ooh, another kilt!” April paused for a moment to watch in appreciation as Mitch spun through the steps of the fight. I couldn’t blame her; the man put on a good show. After spending so many weeks with Mitch’s insane physique I had become immune, but now I saw the fight through my sister’s eyes. A green plaid kilt swirling around muscular thighs was truly a sight to behold.
After Mitch disarmed the Quarterstaff Kid and sent him to the ground, ending the fight, we both shook ourselves and blinked at each other. “So you had no interest in that one, huh?”
“Mitch?” I snorted at the thought. That ship had sailed a long time ago. “No. He’s just a friend.”
“If you say so.” She stole another look in his direction. “I’m just saying, I’d have been a lot more into sports in high school if the coach looked like that.” She was quiet for another moment, then shook off the thought. “Food?” I pointed down the path and we set off.
A couple hours later we had split a massive smoked turkey leg, which was as awkward to eat as you might imagine, and had flower crowns in our hair. The ribbons from the crown floated down my back and trailed down to my elbows. We stopped again at the tavern so April could rest her leg. And get another glass of wine.
I still hadn’t spotted Simon, which at first I’d been relieved about, but as the day wore on I became confused. And more than a little sad. Stacey and Mitch had been so insistent that I come today. Had they given Simon the heads-up so he could avoid running into me? I didn’t like the thought of that. This Faire was Simon’s home. He loved it more than anything. I shouldn’t have come here if I made him this uncomfortable.
“Do you want to head home?” I didn’t like the way April was rubbing her bad leg. But she waved off my concern.
“I’m fine. My stamina’s not what it was before the accident.”
“Seriously, we can go . . .”
“Nah.” She put her leg up on the bench next to us. “I just need to slow down a little. Wine first. Then joust.”
I still didn’t feel great about dragging her all the way across the grounds to the jousting field, but she insisted she was fine and she could rest there while we watched. I couldn’t argue with that, and deep down inside I really wanted to see the joust. I’d been looking forward to it all summer, and it was unlikely I’d be back to the Faire in the future.