screamed from the front porch. âWhere the hell else would I be going?â
With that, I slammed the truck door, put it in gear, and headed to Virgie Burgermeisterâs 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 mamaâs 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, âDo you want to talkââ
âNo, I donât want to talk about it,â I snapped. âThanks for asking.â
âOkay,â she said. âWell, I forgot to give you this message yesterday, but thereâs a gentleman from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch who wants to interview you about your job.â
âHuh?â
âHe said that heâd 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
âOh,â I said. âThat would be great for the town.â
âThatâs what I thought,â Stephanie said. âSo I told him Iâd call him back with a time to do the interview.â
âTomorrow is good, whenever. All weâre doing here is just going through boxes and closets,â I said.
âGreat, Iâll call right now and leave him a message.â
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.
âDid you see the lead singer for that band this morning?â Rachel said. âTotally lame music, but man, was he cute!â
âYou having fun?â I said
âTons,â she said.
âWhere are Mary and Matthew?â
âTheyâre with Grandma O. I think they were taking a ride on the tugboat.â
âAll right,â I said. âSorry Iâve been so busy, but you know how itâs been lately.â
âItâs all right, Mom. Jeez, youâre always there any other time,â she said and shrugged. âWe understand when something comes up.â
I was always there, wasnât 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 wouldnât last forever. A few more years and sheâd be looking at colleges and Matthew would be in grade school. Then it was just a few more years after that and heâd be looking at colleges and Iâd be old and gray and be on my way to being Sylvia. Iâm 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.
âOh, the pie-eating contest is getting ready to start,â she said. âYou gonna root for Dad?â
âI donât think so,â I said.
âOh, come on, Mom. Youâve rooted for him every year. Why stop now?â
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 wouldnât 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