Page 50 of Under the Lights
“Yeah. PJ and I have been driving around town for two hours on behalf of the Eagles decoration contest.”
She laughed for so long, he debated hanging up on her. “Did you draw the short straw?”
Chase wasn’t having any part of the conversation. There was a good chance PJ was pretending to listen to music while really using some state-of-the-art eavesdropping device. “I’m learning a lot.”
“Ask him about the history of the mills.”
“No.”
She laughed some more, and then finally quieted. “Here comes the homeowner. I need to take his complaint.”
“I’m going to see you at the spaghetti dinner, right?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be busy, so I’ll be lucky if I get to wave.”
That was disappointing. “Oh, before you go. PJ asked me if Alex has a GPS, because his navigator is a kid named Ronnie?”
“Shit. How did Jen let that happen?” He heard her sigh through the phone. “Alex travels a lot, so hopefully he’s got a good sense of direction. And I’ll keep an eye out for the rental.”
“I’ll see you tonight. Hopefully we’ll see Alex, too.”
Once he was off the phone, PJ took out the earbuds and told him he’d be taking a right in about half a mile. Then he started talking about meat processing, and after five minutes of way too much detail, Chase’s stomach did a long, slow roll.
“Hey, kid. Do you know anything about the history of the mills?”
—
Kelly felt as if every single citizen of Stewart Mills was staring at her as she used tongs to plop spaghetti on plate after plate before handing them to Cheryl to add her red sauce and meatballs.
It was her imagination, of course. Not every citizen was even there. And the ones who were seemed too busy talking to each other and eating to stare at her. But she’d seen more than a few speculative glances sent her way. And conversations cutting off in midsentence to be replaced by an overly brightoh hey, Kellymeant people were talking about her.
Because she was Coach’s daughter and everybody in town knew her, she’d been very careful since being hired by the Stewart Mills police department not to give them anything to talk about. Now she’d gone and had sex with arguably one of the most talked-about people in the town for the time being.
The line finally trickled out and, after nabbing some spaghetti for herself, she made her way outside to the picnic table where Jen was saving her a seat. Don and Cassandra Jones had offered up O’Rourke’s for the benefit, since it wasn’t easy to cook massive amounts of spaghetti and meatballs on a grill in the town square, but they couldn’t seat everybody. Borrowing the same tables and folding chairs the Eagles Fest committee had used for the yard sale, along with a few picnic tables, they’d spread the seating out onto the sidewalk and down into the elementary school playground.
And then they’d have to return them all, she thought with a weary sigh as she sat down. Picking up her fork, she twirled it in the pasta.
She had no regrets when it came to the Eagles Fest, because her parents and her community were everything to her, but she was exhausted. The physical labor was the easy part, too. The constantly scrolling to-do list in her head and putting on an air of unwavering optimism had wiped her out. When it was over, she might take a couple of vacation days and do nothing but sleep, get up and eat, and then sleep some more.
Thinking she heard her name, she glanced up and caught two members of the board of selectmen watching her from a table diagonally across the way. Dan Jarvis turned his face abruptly, but Judy Faring gave her a very prim, pursed-lipped look of disapproval before slightly turning her body away.
Great. It wasn’t bad enough the chief was in her business. She needed the town government judging her, too.
“How are you not stuffing your face with this spaghetti?” Jen wiped a smear of red sauce off her lip with her napkin, seemingly oblivious to what was happening around her. “It’s like a free pass for all the carbs you can eat, and nobody makes meatballs like Cheryl Decker.”
“I feel like everybody’s talking about me.”
“They’re probably wondering why you’ve been twirling your fork in your pasta for ten minutes without taking a bite. I hope you realize that can’t possibly fit in your mouth now.”
“I meant talking about me and Chase, smart-ass.”
“Which reminds me, tell me about you and Chase.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Interesting.” Jen pointed her fork at Kelly. “If there’s nothing to tell, what do you think people are saying about you?”
“I meant,youalready know everything there is to tell.”
