Vic laughed. It was good to hear her genuine laughter. Not something that was forced or faked. “That was a one-time deal. I’m not making lasagna every week.”
“Maybe once a month?” Erin coaxed.
Vic shook her head, her smile disappearing again. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do. I really should find a place of my own.”
Erin took the box of journals up to the attic room, and she put it beside her reading nook, moving slowly. The announcement from Vic was a shock, and she didn’t know how to deal with it. She hadn’t foreseen any changes in the near future. She had just assumed that things would remain the same, with her and Vic living together and working together every day, just as they were.
Why did that have to change?
She had finally settled down and found her home. Somewhere she didn’t have to think about leaving again in a few weeks or months. She had everything she needed, including her own business. It was everything she had ever dreamed she might have. At least Vic wasn’t talking about quitting the bakery and leaving town as well. Or was that next? Was she trying to break it to Erin gently that things were not going to last? Maybe it was too much for her, everyone knowing all about her, looking at her and whispering about her. She could go farther away, somewhere no one knew her. Somewhere no one knew her family. And somewhere where the population was large enough that she’d be able to find people to date. People who were open-minded enough not just to turn her away.
Erin started to pull books out of the box and put them carefully into order. It was a job that didn’t require much input from her reeling brain. She opened each book, checked the date, and put it into the appropriate stack so she would be able to find the journal that dealt with her parents’ deaths.
But why did she want to read about that? It had been enough of a tragedy when she’d lived through it. Why would she want to put herself through it again? She’d lost everyone in her life that was important to her, and now she was going to lose Vic too. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair that she couldn’t have that normal, happy life everyone else had. Why did she have to always end up alone?
Eventually, she had all of the journals neatly stacked in order. They covered approximately three years, from when she was six to when she was nine. The accident and her eighth birthday would fall right in the middle. But she didn’t pick up the middle journals. Instead, she picked up the earliest ones, from when she was six.
She remembered little of her life from that long ago. She knew that it was possible to remember things from earlier than that. People could remember as far back as when they were two or three. Some people. But Erin had little memory of being that young. She could remember coming to Bald Eagle Falls for a visit. Her parents leaving her with Clementine at the tea shop. Erin had enjoyed working with her. Carrying plates of cookies to the ladies sitting around talking with each other. Lively conversations. The smells of different kinds of teas so pungent, one of the clearest things in her mind. Erin could identify many of the teas by smell alone, something that had amused Clementine and her hens. They would test her, letting Erin smell their teas and then try to identify the boxes they had come from.
Who left a five- or six-year-old child with an old woman in a tea shop? It was one thing to leave her with a babysitter, someone who could give Erin her full attention. But that wasn’t what they had done. Clementine wasn’t retired and living at home where she could watch a child. She was working. Erin knew now what it was like, trying to take care of all of the customers on her own the day that Vic had stayed home. Running the shop as a one-person show was difficult. She couldn’t imagine how much harder it would be with a young child underfoot. Erin had tried to help out and do what she was instructed to, but she had still been a child. Distractible. Clumsy. Underfoot. Erin couldn’t imagine trying to run the bakery with a five-year-old underfoot and no Vic to help her out.
Erin didn’t remember them discussing it in front of her, but they must have had a conversation at some point, Clementine taking Erin’s parents aside and explaining that they couldn’t just dump Erin on her. That she couldn’t run the tea room properly with Erin underfoot. That they would have to find some other arrangement.
Erin leafed slowly through the book. She didn’t stop to read it; she just let her eyes flow over the writing already familiar to her from reading the genealogical records and files. She picked up words and phrases here and there. The names of Bald Eagle Falls residents, the surnames familiar, but Clementine and most of her friends now gone. But the younger generations were still there. Places like Bald Eagle Falls had long memories.
She watched for her own name, even though she didn’t want to see it. She had dug out the journals for one purpose only, and that was to find out what had happened to her family. To read about the accident. But she wasn’t sure she could read it.
How much information would Clementine have had? Just a newspaper clipping? The obituaries? Or would she recount the entire story in painstaking detail?
Erin knew she was reading the journals written before the accident, and that was okay. She could read all of the details of life in Bald Eagle Files when she was a little girl. All of the secrets of the sleepy little town that Clementine had been inspired to share. Births and deaths. Politics. Happenings at and around the little shop. Erin put each book down in turn. Keeping them in order. Drawing closer to the date of her parents’ accident.
Then she sat with the journal in her hands. It would be in that one. She had gotten a feel for the rhythm of the dates in the journals, and she knew the accident would fall between the two covers of that book.
Orange Blossom started to yowl. It was getting late, and he was looking for her company. She could hear him start to come up the stairs. Still slowly and awkwardly, like he was climbing a mountain instead of just stepping up the stairs smoothly.
Erin opened up the journal and started paging through it. She read the first few words of each entry, knowing that sooner or later she would hit the one that announced her parents’ deaths.
Then she read the words. Who would believe such a thing could happen to one of our Bald Eagle Falls families?
Erin closed the book.
Chapter Sixteen
ERIN LOOKED OVER THE boxes, running through her checklists and making sure they had everything she had planned to take to the Founders’ Day Fair. The whole town was buzzing with excitement. School was out. There would be a midway, popcorn, cotton candy, snow cones, and all of the other trappings of a traditional, small-town country fair. Baked goods and canned goods would be judged. There were events involving sheep and goats that Erin didn’t understand.
“Did we miss anything?” Vic asked, looking over Erin’s shoulder.
“No, I don’t think so. Everything is here.”
“Is that enough bread for the Jam Lady sample booth?”
Erin nodded. “I think so. If it’s not, one of us can come back here for more. But I didn’t want the bread to be sitting out in the heat all day. Even in plastic, it’s going to get dry.”
“Yeah, okay. Don’t want that!”
“No. It’s hard enough to get a nice texture on gluten-free bread. We want to be able to present our best product. People are already prejudiced against anything that says gluten-free.”
Vic looked at Erin, amusement in her eyes.
“Maybe prejudiced isn’t the right word,” Erin amended.
“No, prejudiced is just fine. It just hit me funny. I just had a vision of myself labeled gluten-free. People do start with certain… expectations.”
“Yes.” Erin studied her friend. But Vic didn’t seem upset by her wording, so Erin moved on. “Let’s get these loaded into the car, then.”
Erin took one box. Vic stacked up two and carried both at the same time. In a couple of minutes, they had everything ready to go. Erin drove over to the school parking lot. Already, tents and awnings had sprung up all over the field. Erin checked in with Mrs. Potter at the participants’ registration table and stu
died the map of the field to figure out which tent she was supposed to report to.
Most of the food venues were under one huge tent, with fans and air conditioning units running inside to keep it a few degrees cooler than outside. Erin had been worried about standing out in the heat for so long and was thankful for whoever had had the foresight to ensure that the food vendors’ tent was air conditioned.
“This is cool,” Vic said, looking around.
“That it is,” Erin agreed. She looked at the time on her phone. “We’d better get to work, though; I don’t want to be late getting everything arranged.”
But Vic was quick with the arrangement of their goods and setting up the display to the best advantage. She had pre-printed her labels, and they were all ready to go quite a while before the fair was scheduled to open.
Erin watched the other vendors get set up and, before long, the early birds started to trickle in. It was much the same crowd as was always first at Auntie Clem’s on a regular weekday. Erin supposed it was in the nature of an early bird to be early no matter what the day or event.
She could smell the popcorn and the cotton candy over the smells of her own baking. The midway music was playing, and there was a loudspeaker announcing events and results of some of the pre-fair events. The crowds started to fill out, and it wasn’t long before everything was in full swing.
Erin looked around during a lull. There was plenty for the fairgoers to do, so people were not lingering long over her baked goods. There were lemonade and sweet tea as well as all of the high-calorie fair goodies to fill up on; people could buy Erin’s baking any day of the week, so it was less of a draw.
The faces were mostly familiar. She had been in Bald Eagle Falls for long enough to recognize most of the residents. But there were a few unfamiliar people. Out-of-towners who had come to take part in the fun. Hopefully, Vic’s parents hadn’t felt the need to return to town to see the Founders’ Day Fair. She’d had enough disruption in her life.
Erin spotted Alton Summers and her stomach clenched. She had figured that after their last confrontation, he would leave town. She had threatened to expose him; why would he stick around? As the crowds shifted, she had a better view of him and realized that he was arguing with someone. His face was red, and so was Joelle’s. She talked with her hands; short, angry movements punctuated the conversation. Alton shook his head and stepped in closer to her. Threatening, deliberately in her personal space, trying to intimidate her. But Joelle wasn’t any shrinking violet. She placed one hand on his chest and gave him a violent shove. Alton was forced to step back. He stood there long enough to utter one more threat, emphasized with a pointing finger, and then he turned on his heel and stalked away, pushing through the happy crowds to get out of there.
Erin grinned. You tell him, Joelle!
“Hi, Erin!”
Erin turned at the familiar voice and focused on her newest customer. One of her favorites, young Peter Foster.
“Hi, Peter. What would you like today?”
His eyes roved over the goods that Vic had put out on display.
“Hmm…”
“Did you have some popcorn and cotton candy?” Erin asked.
“Yes. But I still have room!”
“I don’t doubt it.”
He waved a bill at her. “Mom gave me money and said to get something for everyone. She’s sitting on a blanket over there.” He gestured to the picnic area.
“What did she want you to get? Something to go along with your lunch?”
“Uh-huh. We have salads and hot chicken.”
“How about some cheese buns or pretzels, then? You guys have already had lots of sugar.”
He nodded. “How about the pizza pretzels?”
“One of my favorites,” Erin agreed.
“Okay. So… five of those. Maybe four, I don’t know if the little girls can eat a full one…”
“I’ll give you six,” Erin said. “You can take the extra home if you don’t eat them all.”
“Okay.”
As Vic packaged the pretzels up for Peter and Erin made change, Erin saw Joelle approaching.
“Hi, Joelle. Let’s see, the vegan products I have available today—”
“No, I don’t want anything. I wondered if you wanted this.” Joelle offered an ice cream cone to Peter.
He shook his head. “I can’t,” he said automatically, “I have allergies.”
“Oh, right.” Joelle caught Erin staring at the confection. “Davis bought it for me,” she said. “I don’t know why. He knows I’m vegan. He just doesn’t think about it. He’s always doing stupid stuff like that.”
She waved the cone a little as she talked. With the heat of the day, it was already starting to melt, and a glob of ice cream fell onto her sandals. Joelle swore and bent down to wipe it off with a napkin. “I just got these!” She swore a second time, moving her foot to look at the strappy little sandals from several angles. “Can you still see it? Are they wrecked?” She tossed her ice cream cone at the nearest garbage can and missed, splattering it inside and outside the can.
“No, it looks fine,” Erin assured her. “I don’t think it’s going to be stained.” She remembered what Melissa had said about Joelle buying high-end thrift store finds, and wondered if Joelle were trying to show off the brand to her. “They’re very cute.” And they were; a far cry from the clunky, wide-strapped sandals Erin could remember her mother wearing for hiking.
“They are, aren’t they?” Joelle cooed, admiring them. “I just had to have them.”
“Yeah.”
Vic handed Peter his bag of pretzels. Erin gave him his change. “Say, ‘hi’ to your mom and sisters for me, Peter,” she told him.
Peter grinned and told her ‘thank you,’ then walked away. Joelle watched him go. “Cute kid. I’m sorry about swearing in front of him. I have to watch my sailor’s mouth.”
Erin nodded. “So, you didn’t want anything, then?” she asked, with a significant look at the display of baked goods.
“No, no. I just wanted to get rid of the ice cream cone. Stupid. I went for the nearest kid, didn’t even think that if he’s buying something here, he obviously can’t have normal food.”
“It’s probably not the best idea to give treats to children you don’t know anyway.”
“Why not?” Joelle thought about it for an instant and swore again. “Somebody will think I’m trying to poison or lure them? In a small town like this in the middle of a crowd?”
“Crowds are good places to lose kids. If you have a way to lure them away without people noticing.”
“I wouldn’t do that! You know that, don’t you? I’m not some sicko!”
“I’m sure you’re not,” Erin said. She couldn’t help catching Vic’s eye, though, and Vic made a face that Joelle couldn’t see. “But you don’t want to get people uptight. And you don’t want to end up giving something to a kid like Peter who’s allergic but might not be mature enough to ask if the food is safe for him.”
“What a world we live in,” Joelle huffed. “Honestly, do kids have to be bubble-wrapped?”
Since there were no customers hovering to buy something, Erin decided to take the opportunity to shut Joelle down and to see Naomi. She’d been watching for her chance all morning, and it seemed like the best time.
“I’m just going over to the Book Nook display,” she told Vic. “Won’t be long.”
Vic nodded. “Sure. Take your time.” With a look at Joelle, she chuckled quietly.
Erin headed over to the tent she had noted Naomi setting up earlier in the day. She took a couple of glances back over her shoulder to make sure that Joelle didn’t follow her. She didn’t need to get into a heated discussion with someone over how serious allergies and intolerances could be. People who thought that it was just being overprotective had another think coming to them. How could Joelle think that after Trenton had died from his allergy?
“Erin!” Naomi’s cheerful voice rang out the minute Erin
stepped under the awning. “I’m glad you came by!”
Erin looked over the well-appointed display of Digging Up Your Roots, some pictures and old newspaper clippings, and one of Clementine’s genealogy books lying open. The tent was quiet. Apparently, genealogy was not a big attraction at a fair, even on Founders’ Day. A couple of older folks browsed over the handouts that Naomi had arranged giving tips on how to get started on their own family history, including blank journal pages and four-generation family trees.
Erin went up to the display to look at Clementine’s book. She stared at the page of names. None of them meant anything to her. Familiar, but not people she had known or had yet come to know through the stories and clippings that Clementine had kept.
“It all looks really professional,” she told Naomi. “This was a great idea for a display at Founders’ Day. Everyone can come in and start thinking about who the founders were in their family.”
Naomi nodded. “There hasn’t been a lot of traffic, but we only need a few people to get started, and when they start sharing with their friends, everyone is going to want to know something about the stock that they came from. Especially in a town like Bald Eagle Falls, where everyone tends to be so closely related.”
“Yeah. It’s amazing how everyone is related.”
“So how are you coming along in your search? Did you find any journals?”
“Boxes of them.”
Naomi laughed. “I should have known. Clementine was just that kind of lady. Every family should have a historian!”
Erin flipped through a couple of pages in the big genealogy book.
“I suppose with that many, it’s going to take you some time to find what it is you’re looking for…?”
Erin looked around, not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation. But in the chaos of the fair, the Book Nook tent was an oasis. A few people browsed, but no one was close enough to listen in on Erin’s private conversation.
“No… I don’t think it will take me long. I found the right years. And I was skimming through them. But…”
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