Free Thicker than Water by Rett MacPherson Page B

screamed from the front porch. “Where the hell else would I be going?”
    With that, I slammed the truck door, put it in gear, and headed to Virgie Burgermeister’s house to gather the jams. There should be a law against demons being up and plaguing the world before dawn.
    This morning went much like the day before, only it was just me and Chuck loading the jars because Rudy was still at home stuffing his face with his mama’s pancakes. I said virtually nothing to anybody, and I now had a permanent crease between my eyebrows. I let the tourists in, gave them all a fake smile and fake wave, and then ran to the seclusion of the Gaheimer House, which I had decided I was never going to leave again.
    My sister handed me a Dr Pepper as I came in the front door. She said nothing for several moments and then, “Do you want to talk—”
    â€œNo, I don’t want to talk about it,” I snapped. “Thanks for asking.”
    â€œOkay,” she said. “Well, I forgot to give you this message yesterday, but there’s a gentleman from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch who wants to interview you about your job.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œHe said that he’d heard wonderful things about New Kassel and all of the hard work that the historians have done to preserve the history and bring about tourism and such, and so he wants to interview you.”
    â€œOh,” I said. “That would be great for the town.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought,” Stephanie said. “So I told him I’d call him back with a time to do the interview.”
    â€œTomorrow is good, whenever. All we’re doing here is just going through boxes and closets,” I said.
    â€œGreat, I’ll call right now and leave him a message.”
    Two hours later I was wandering around the festival, making sure everything was going as it should without too many hitches. Rachel came running up to me with one of her school friends, all smiles and giggles.
    â€œDid you see the lead singer for that band this morning?” Rachel said. “Totally lame music, but man, was he cute!”
    â€œYou having fun?” I said
    â€œTons,” she said.
    â€œWhere are Mary and Matthew?”
    â€œThey’re with Grandma O. I think they were taking a ride on the tugboat.”
    â€œAll right,” I said. “Sorry I’ve been so busy, but you know how it’s been lately.”
    â€œIt’s all right, Mom. Jeez, you’re always there any other time,” she said and shrugged. “We understand when something comes up.”
    I was always there, wasn’t I? I took a moment to pat myself on the back. I went to every concert, every PTA meeting, every game, parade, open house. As I looked at Rachel, I realized that it wouldn’t last forever. A few more years and she’d be looking at colleges and Matthew would be in grade school. Then it was just a few more years after that and he’d be looking at colleges and I’d be old and gray and be on my way to being Sylvia. I’m not sure how I went from patting myself on the back to depressing the hell out of myself, but I did. I think it said a lot about my state of mind at the moment.
    â€œOh, the pie-eating contest is getting ready to start,” she said. “You gonna root for Dad?”
    â€œI don’t think so,” I said.
    â€œOh, come on, Mom. You’ve rooted for him every year. Why stop now?”
    We made our way through the crowd that had gathered around the table for the pie-eating contest. Rudy was wearing the same shirt he wore every year. That way, if it acquired any new stains, it wouldn’t really matter. His hands were tied behind his back, but he was ready for the job. In my opinion, he had stiff competition this year. Chuck Velasco was up and smiling, Colin cracked his knuckles and then his neck before they tied his hands behind his back, and this year even the mayor had decided to give