The Fake Out by Sharon M. Peterson

FIFTY-ONE

Girl, you are so like Batman.

Only the world’s greatest detective could have found

a boy wonder like me.

—PROFESSOR POPINJAY

That Saturday morning, the Save the Library Committee, along with Aidan, and Iris, gathered at the crack of dawn to set up for the auction later that day. Mrs. Katz produced detailed instructions which required reorganizing the library for an “optimal auction experience.”

“No, I did not say put that table there,” Mrs. Katz said. “Did you hear a thing I said?”

Horace bared his teeth. “I turned down my hearing aids. I got tired of listening to your caterwauling and yelling.”

Mrs. Katz clutched her clipboard to her chest with her crossed arms. “If this is the kind of help that I can expect from you, you can find your way out the door.”

Horace stomped up to her. “You are a mean old woman.”

“It takes one to know one.”

He sputtered, his face turning a shade of red his doctor would likely be concerned about.

“Calm down,” I said. “We’re all on the same team. Let’s just put the table where she wants it, okay?”

With a final glare at Mrs. Katz, Horace followed me. Together, we finished setting up the tables and I kept the two of them from killing each other. Barely. We had another close call over where to put the pens, to the left or the right of the bid sheets. I think Horace was about three seconds away from using one of those pens as a murder weapon.

“Those two need to do it and get it over with.” Iris shoved hair out of her eyes.

“Gross. Mrs. Katz was my sixth-grade teacher.”

She shrugged. “Their sexual tension is through the roof.”

“Seriously. Gross.” I put a hand on my hip. “And what do you know about sexual tension? You’re still a baby.”

The look she gave me was anything but toddler-like.

For lunch, Ali showed up with a boatload of food from the Taco Truck. “I have brought sustenance and my gracious presence.”

The volunteers fell on the food like someone yelled ‘brains’ at a zombie convention. When they were through, I was left with a partially unwrapped fish taco and eight tortilla chips (yes, I counted).

“Thanks for this,” I said. “We were all getting a bit cranky.”

“No problem.” She stretched out her legs in front of her. We were both sitting on the floor, leaning against the circulation desk. “Is the librarian gonna get mad we’re eating in here?”

I shrugged. “She’s willing to overlook it today.”

“She’s such a badass.”

“I know, right?”

“Where’s Chris? I thought he was supposed to be here?”

“He will be. Later. He’s got something going on he couldn’t tell me about.”

She shoulder-bumped me. “Maybe he’s going to surprise you with something amazing. Oh, I know. A surprise wedding. He’s gathering up everything you’ll need. You’ll get married in a little ceremony under the stars. No big muss or fuss. Just a quiet little wedding.”

I stared at her. “That is very… specific.”

“Eh. I’ve been watching that show again. The one where they spend a bazillion dollars on one stupid wedding? Gives me the hives just thinking about it.” She waved a hand. “Just put a ring on it and be done.”

I laughed. “Sorry to burst your bubble. I’m positive Chris isn’t planning a secret wedding.”

“You never know. He could surprise you.”

She had no idea how true that was. Chris Sterns was the biggest surprise of my life. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was supposed to do about that though.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. I sent Iris and Aidan over to the Sit-n-Eat to help Ollie decorate for the dance. Or rather, do all the decorating.

“You can have the dance here,” Ollie had said. “But I ain’t making it pretty or nothing.”

At the library, we arranged all the auction items we’d spent weeks procuring. Aidan’s idea had been a good one and we’d gotten several donations from wedding vendors. I had to imply I’d be using their services for my future wedding; I only felt a pinch of guilt. Once the engagement was called off, there wouldn’t be a wedding to service anyway.

The doors opened at 6 p.m. and we all stood around with bated breath.

And waited.

And waited.

By 6:30 p.m., only three people had shown up, Mama and Sue, and Cody Spear, who had a reputation for being a tightwad. Which we found to be true when he’d tried to bid on a two-night bed-and-breakfast package well under the minimum bid, and argued with Mrs. Katz for fifteen minutes about the unconstitutionality of minimum bids.

“Where is everyone?” Ali asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. We’d heard Peter was threatening people not to come but I didn’t think they’d listen to him.” I sat down, feeling sorrier for myself than I had in a long time. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if this doesn’t work. We don’t have much more time until the council vote.”

“Hey.” She patted my shoulder. “It’s going to work out. Have you heard from Chris?”

I shook my head. “Not since this morning.”

The last week we’d barely had time to text, let alone see each other. Piper kept him busy doing as many things as he could to take the attention off the latest drama. He’d had to fly to Nashville midweek to talk with the board of the Children’s Heart Fund. They were still waffling on whether they’d like to continue their relationship with him, given the recent events.

More than that, I think both of us were ignoring the real question: if two people make out in a barn, does it really count?

How had my life gotten so complicated?

“He’ll be here,” Ali said with confidence. “Chris has always come through for you before.”

“Hmm?”

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? Has he ever let you down yet?”

Had he? We hadn’t known each other that long but I couldn’t think of a time he hadn’t done exactly what he said he was going to do. And some things I hadn’t expected at all.

“I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone try to take care of you as much as he has and you do not make it easy,” Ali said.

My face must have shown my surprise. “What?”

Ali shrugged. “Don’t give me that look. Do you know how hard it is to be your friend sometimes? You never call me for help. It’s always the other way around. You take care of your mom and your sister, the library, and probably a whole passel of woodland creatures I don’t know about because you’re just that good. Who gets to take care of you?”

I stared at her, a little in disbelief. “That’s not true.”

“Totally true. I love you and hate you for it. You have your life together. I can’t even keep a cactus alive.”

My chest tightened. “Cacti are stupid.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I should murder them.” She gave me a pointed look. “Now, text Chris and ask him when he’ll be here because you need his help.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I pulled out my phone and tapped out a message.

Me: Where are you? We’ve already started.

Dreamboat: Running late. We’ll be there soon.

Me: Who is we?

When he didn’t reply, I shoved my phone back in my pocket. He would be here. Ali was right. He’d always come through for me. I guess I’d never given him credit for that. I guess I just always expected people to let me down; it was my default mode.

“Damn it,” Sue yelled and stomped over in her boots. “Just got a text message from Connie. She’s over at the pizzeria. The entire menu is seventy-five percent off.”

My eyes narrowed. Peter. This reeked of him, that petty jerk.

Sue held up her phone. “Connie said to hurry because the sale is from six to eight p.m. and the line is real long.”

The announcement seemed to suck all the air out of the room. The same hours of the auction. That wasn’t a coincidence. It was a pointed, deliberate attack.

“That man’s a real bastard.” Sarah Ellis looked as fierce as a woman of eighty-seven could look. “I hope you revoke his library card.”

Several others agreed.

I turned to the one person who might be devious enough to help. “Ali?”

She already had her game face on. “Oh, I am on it.”

As I watched her stomp out, I said a little prayer for the pizzeria. If it burned down in fiery flames later this evening, I would have no doubt she’d be responsible for it.

Mrs. Katz marched to the front of the room. “The whole town cannot be at that restaurant. Get your phones out and start calling everyone you know who’s close enough to drive in. Call in favors. Bribe them. Whatever you have to do.”

The whole room went to work. I was four calls in when the door opened, and Chris arrived.

And he was not alone.