Going Through the Notions(96)

“And you don’t trust me? Why the hell couldn’t you talk to me about it?” Joe exhaled, as if summoning up the last of his patience. “I’m your husband. We’re supposed to share everything. The good and the bad.”

“Oh, well, in that case, there is one more thing . . .”

“Yes?”

“I think the car needs a new alternator.”

“That I can fix. The rest of it? Who knows?” Joe shook his head at me. “I guess I’ve always been a bit jealous of Angus, truth be told, and now it looks as though you have a new boyfriend.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I gasped in disbelief at this insanely jealous remark until I saw the teasing glint in his eye.

“Come on upstairs with me, Daisy Buchanan.” Joe took my hand and pulled me with him toward the stairs. “Obviously I need to remind you why you married me. Again.”





Chapter Twenty





The next morning, Saturday, Joe called George Hildebrand and asked him to pick up our car and take it to his garage.

I stuffed the trunk of Sarah’s Volkswagen Beetle and most of the backseat with the produce for the farm stand, and the items she and I had cleaned out of our basement. I’d have to sit with a box on my lap, and Sarah would somehow have to squeeze into the back.

No dogs were allowed at the fair, so I’d taken Jasper for a good walk earlier and he would have the run of the kitchen today. Fingers crossed. He was in his favorite spot, sprawled out on the cool tiled floor in the pantry. At this time of the morning, the temperature was still in the low sixties, but the day promised to be a hot one.

We drove up to the auction grounds. White tents were spread out across the grass, and with the sun rising over the horizon, it looked like some kind of magical encampment.

Precision Rentals had dropped off the tables, tents, and chairs yesterday. The entrants for the various contests were also required to bring in their items for judging the day before.

Martha came over to my side of the car and gave me a map of the fairgrounds. I recognized Cee Cee’s penmanship and talent for design.

“This looks amazing already,” I told her, reaching up and giving her as much of a hug as I could around her gigantic straw hat. Martha was wearing sensible flats today, and a flowing summer dress.

She smiled in weary satisfaction. “We have a long day ahead of us, but it should come together nicely.”

From the map, Joe quickly found the farm stand, dropped Sarah and me off with the produce, and then drove to the flea market area to unload the rest of our stuff.

Some trucks with trailers were already arriving, holding the ponies for the kiddie rides and the animals for the petting zoo. Sarah grabbed her tote bag of walkie-talkies and headed over to the admission booth to direct them where to park. The plan was to fill the paved lot first and then an area to the right, which had already been roped off and designated for extra parking. From Sheepville Pike came the unmistakable rumble of a fire engine, and soon it pulled slowly onto the grass near the auction house. Martha must have made arrangements for the kids to have their pictures taken on it. She’d thought of everything.

My farm stand was made up of three trestle tables arranged in a U-shape with a canopy overhead. I arranged our fruits and vegetables on one table, and the soaps, candles, and pots of honey from the lavender farm on another. Debby and Cee Cee walked up with a cart laden with the donated birdhouses, jams, jellies, and chutney.

“Wherever did you get that cart? It’s a brilliant idea!” I exclaimed.

“It’s from the library. I asked if I could borrow it for the weekend,” Debby said. “I’m going to help you today, and Cee Cee is doing face painting for the kids.”

“Another great idea. I can’t get over how fantastic everything looks.”

Cee Cee nodded. “Martha’s incredible. It’s like she was destined for this.”

By 8:30 a.m., we were set up, and the fair wasn’t scheduled to open until 10 a.m., so Debby stayed at the farm stand while I took a walk to see where I could help out.

Liz Gallagher’s kids were already bouncing around at the lemonade stand. I passed the antique John Deere tractors on display, and the area where the sheep-shearing demonstration would take place. Dottie’s knitting ladies had a table set up with their handmade baby blankets and scarves for sale. I knew we’d make money there.

At the flea market, there were a few tables full of bric-a-brac, but the cars were the star of the show, all backed in with trunk lids open, making a huge semicircle. Patsy was in charge, and as soon as she saw me, Claire rushed over and grabbed my hand.

“Daisy, I won first prize for my painting. Come see!”