Page 133 of Tasting Fire
In the kitchen, he found a note taped to the caffeine machine.
Today is a day of sun and sweets
Of people and a place where we made our start
Meet me on Main Street
So I can show you what’s in my heart
It made him smile, her crappy poetry. It was a damn good thing she was a damn good doctor. Because she would starve if she had to compose rhymes for a living. But he’d saved each of them since she’d started this nostalgic scavenger hunt.
And he’d keep them until the day they laid him in the ground. Just like he planned to keep Emmy all the days in between.
So it looked as if he had a date to go to the Mountain Springfest.
When he finally found a parking space and hoofed it four blocks back to Main Street, the festival was in full swing. Music blasted from a Stevie Ray Vaughan cover band set up on the main stage. Food and drink trucks were parked here and there like scattered dandelions, serving everything from pork belly fritters to pimento cheese BLTs to chokecherry moonshine. Booth after booth was filled with handmade goods. If a man wanted a UNC door decoration or a hunting knife with a twelve-point buck carved into the handle or yard art in the shape of a fat dude with his pants pulled down and his ass up in the air, he could get his hands on it here.
Maybe Cash would buy a piece of art to mark the spot in his backyard where he’d gotten bare-assed with Emmy.
And would happily do so again.
For the first time since the school shooting, Cash felt a lightness, a rightness, a peace in his chest.
Yeah, he’d misjudged and been fooled by a woman he thought was kind and true. The pain of that might never completely fade.
But this was his community and these were his people. He would not lose faith in them or the basic goodness of humanity.
Arm-in-arm with a big guy in a cowboy hat and boots, Chelsea Black strolled past Cash. When he lifted his eyebrows at her, she shot him a genuine smile of happiness and waved her left hand. Looked as if Chelsea had found what she was looking for.
Up ahead, Riley was working on a triple-decker, multi-flavor ice-cream cone while chatting with Way and their parents. As usual, Shep was standing out of the street with his back to one of the buildings. He would come out for loud, busy events, but only for a limited time. And on his own terms. No one tried to cajole him into staying longer.
When Shep was done, he was done. And he’d usually slip off without saying good-bye. Probably one of the reasons his marriage hadn’t lasted. His ex-wife hadn’t understood that Shep wasn’t the kind of man she—or anyone else—could change.
Cash edged into the family circle, leaned toward his baby sister, and took a bite out of her ice cream. Oh, yeah. Butter pecan.
“Dammit, Cash!”
“Sharing is caring.”
Riley laughed and whacked him on the back of the head so that his nose hit the scoop of Rocky Road.
“Keep that up, and you won’t have any left,” he warned. He swiped the dripping chocolate from his face and asked, “Anyone seen Emmy today?”
“Thought she was staying at your place,” Way said.
“She is, but she was gone when I woke up.”
“Maybe she finally got smart,” Riley quipped and handed her ice cream to Way so she could pull out her phone and text.
Cash noticed his parents were overly interested in people-watching. “Mom? Dad? Either of you see her?”
“Who?” his mom asked, but her affected casualness didn’t fool him.
“Emmy. You know, the woman I’ve been in love with for more than half my life.”
“Oh, her.”
Even Cash’s dad rolled his eyes at that. An actress Sandy Kingston was not. “I’m sure she’ll turn up sooner or later,” his dad said.
