Page 38 of By the Book

“You two looked cozy coming in just now,” she leans over and whispers.

I purse my lips and glance his way. He’s returned to his stoic posture at the front of the room, flanked by his deputies now. One of them being Chuck, who seems to be murmuring furiously at Tripp.

My own anger begins to simmer, he should understand that Tripp is about to get verbally attacked. Does Chuck really need to pile it on right now? And what does he have to be upset about?

“What’s with Chuck?” I ask Wren.

“He’s been in a fit since he arrived. Apparently just waiting for Tripp to show up and catch the brunt of it.”

“What are you two talking about?” Poppy leans forward between us. She follows my gaze to the line of law enforcement. “Ah, I have a good guess. Well I brought some snacks for tonight.”

Her head disappears from the space between me and Wren, replaced instead by her arm, pushing a tin of pumpkin bars towards us.

“No thanks,” I reply. Normally, town meetings feel like social events. We eat and drink and joke with Fitzy. We plan festivals and debate about if Rusty and the owner of an oyster bar in Fenbury are secretly together, with how often we see her around.

But I’m not feeling very social tonight. I watch as Tripp slowly turns his head to acknowledge Chuck, his face a study of hard lines and conveyed discipline. Tripp’s mouth moves for the briefest moment, and it’s enough to quiet Chuck in an instant.

A small smile turns up my lip. I shouldn’t get this excited by his authority. And yet…

“Welcome all, let’s get started!” Fitzy booms as he steps up to the podium before us.

Hayden slides into the seat beside me and his brother, Beckett, sits down next to Stevie. He casts a glance over his shoulder, watching Poppy offer Beckett a pumpkin bar.

“Ivy,” he whispers. “Grab me one of those?”

“You’re kidding, right? Just tell her you want one.”

“She won’t give me one. Please, they look really good.” Hayden practically drools as he eyes the tin.

Stifling a laugh, I turn around. “Hey Poppy, I actually do want one,” I tell her, holding out my hand. She narrows her eyes at Hayden, hesitating before giving me one.

“Seriously, Poppy Seed? I wouldn’t want one of those dry looking things,” he scoffs.

She drops a bar in my waiting hand, muttering something inaudible under her breath. I can’t believe I’m actually indulging these two, and yet I wait for her to turn away before sneaking it over to Hayden.

“You could just tell her that it looks good, and that you like her baking,” I offer.

“We both know somehow that would just backfire. And this is more fun,” he says, taking a bite. “But damn these are good.”

With a shake of my head, I turn my attention back to the mayor. “Now we need to decide if we want to offer the same activities at Fall Fest that we did last year or if we want to change anything out,” Fitzy is saying.

“We should have a theme for the hay maze design this year,” Wren suggests.

“Whatever the design is, make sure it’s tall enough this time. Half the town could see over it last year,” Chuck snorts.

“That is true,” Mrs. Silberman agrees.

“So, we’ll keep the maze, with a theme. And the pumpkin carving stations, of course,” Fitzy says, writing on the white board behind the podium.

“And the baking contest,” Poppy adds eagerly.

“Wouldn’t want you to go a year without a first-place ribbon, Poppy,” Fitzy laughs.

“Mrs. Walker, can you do the fall wreath making station again?” Stevie suggests, turning in her seat to locate the farmer. “It was a big hit.”

“Oh, yes. Please do, dear. I just loved that last year,” Mrs. Silberman calls from across the room to her friend.

“Absolutely,” Mrs. Walker agrees.

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