FIVE
Main Street had undergone a complete transformation. In just a day, it’d become nearly unrecognizable. Vivian stuck close to Gretta, who led the way past numerous pop-up tents that were being used as vendor booths for selling all kinds of strawberry-related items.
Vivian wore an endless smile that she offered to everyone as she passed, checking out what each person was selling. There were chocolate-covered strawberries, deep-fried strawberries, strawberry dumplings, stuffed donuts, jams and jellies, handcrafted figurines, and of course, the pies that Gretta had made. She, Vivian, and Nash each pulled a child-sized red wagon behind them, lined with pies that had been placed with care into boxes with a label reading “From the Kitchen of Gretta.” Vivian had no idea there were so many ways to make a pie. Some had lattice tops, some solid, some with fancy rose patterns cut into them. Some were strawberry filled, others contained mixed berries, while some would simply be finished with a strawberry glaze—which could be purchased separately, as she had dozens of jars packed and ready for sale.
Vivian couldn’t believe the volume and quality of the wares available. Of course, she’d been to a festival before, but nothing like this. This was much more…down to earth, and the people were decidedly friendlier since they all knew one another. Heck, it was taking them forever to reach their tent because they couldn’t walk more than a few feet without someone approaching either Gretta or Nash to get or give an update on this or that.
Vivian was content with offering a polite hello or quick wave when acknowledged and then was on her way.
By the time they reached the stand that Gretta had been assigned, they were one of the last to set up. Nash was quick to unload the wagons, and Vivian did what she could to help, careful not to get in the way. Gretta was, as with any older person, calmer and slower, reminding them now and then to take their time. People would just have to wait.
And wait they did! Within the first hour, Vivian was already overwhelmed. She hadn’t gone into this thinking she’d be put to work, but the demand for Gretta’s pies and the filling was astonishing. Vivian simply tried her best to keep up, while Gretta maintained her steady pace, forcing everyone to move in time with her.
Unused to work, Vivian had reached her stress limit by the time afternoon rolled around, and her sweat-stained shirt and flat hair showed it.
“Looks like sales are going good,” Nash said as he strolled up to the table a while later and took a peek at what was left.
“Better than good,” Gretta beamed. “I’ll be out of stock by dinner, and I already have enough money to get the tractor fixed.”
“Nice! I’ll run by Charlie’s tomorrow morning and pick up the parts we need so we can get that done.”
“Don’t know what I’d do without ya.” Gretta reached across the table and patted Nash’s cheek affectionately with her weathered hand. “Where are ya headed about now?”
Nash cast a look around the grounds, checking out the various tents. “Well, I’ve had my fill of cakes and pies today, so I’ll stop by Nancy’s tent and grab a beer.”
“That’s perfect. Take our girl here with ya. She’s overdue for a break.”
Nash and Vivian both looked at the woman as if she’d lost her mind. “She doesn’t really look like a beer girl to me.”
“I don’t really like beer,” Vivian confirmed.
“Nancy makes an amazin’ strawberry-flavored wine cooler that’ll suit ya then,” Gretta decided and shooed them away. As much as Vivian wanted to protest, the way the woman shuffled after them and those shooing motions all said one thing: they didn’t have a choice.
Vivian would just ditch him as soon as they were out of eyesight.
“She’s a pushy old broad,” Nash muttered as they fell into step with one another.
“Seems like it,” Vivian said with a small laugh.
“She’s matchmaking, you know,” he informed her, not shocking Vivian one bit. She wasn’t born yesterday.
“I got that impression.”
“You did?” he asked, surprised.
“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious. But I’m not interested.”
“Me either,” he said with a scowl, then pushed his hands deep into his pants pockets. They wove their way through the crowds of people in silence for a minute, and then he said, sounding somewhat offended, “Why aren’t you interested?”
Glancing sideways at him, Vivian said, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I just got out of a marriage.” She paused then added, “And you have issues.”
Stopping dead in his tracks, Nash looked at her as if she was crazy. “I have issues? You’ve known me for all of a day, and you think I have issues?”
“I’ve seen enough to know you do,” she asserted.
“This is about the store thing,” he guessed, and she shrugged her confirmation. She didn’t have to spell it out for him. He knew what he’d done. He laughed. Laughed! “Lady, you can’t just walk into this town and assume you know how it works. You don’t know a damn thing.”
He turned and walked off. Glaring at his back, Vivian thought, I can’t stand that arrogant jerk! Then she stomped after him. People moved out of their way, giving the two a wide berth as if sensing the tension between them and wanting nothing to do with it.
They shouldn’t. For some reason she couldn’t explain, Vivian was ready for a fight. Nash didn’t mean anything to her, yet she was irritated that he’d turned his back on her. It didn’t make a lick of sense, but she couldn’t stop herself from chasing after him.
Catching up with him, she snapped, “Hey, just because I’m from the city doesn’t mean you can treat me like a second-class citizen.”
He refused to look at her. “If that’s the way you feel, it ain’t because of me, lady.”
“My name isn’t lady. It’s Vivian. Use it,” she demanded. That shouldn’t matter to her either, but the way he called her lady made all of her nerves prickle.
“You know,” he said with a chuckle, “I thought you were sweet out on the side of that road. Man, how wrong first impressions can be.”
“I am nice! You’re the one who’s acting like a jerk. Actually,” she amended, “I don’t think you’re acting at all. You are a jerk!”
“Sticks and stones,” he responded, refusing to argue with her.
Why did that piss her off so much? It shouldn’t. It really shouldn’t. Vivian was steaming, and she didn’t understand why. He was nobody to her. He was nothing. But she couldn’t shake the need for his approval. Or…something.
When they reached the structure that was selling handcrafted alcohol, he finally stopped, giving Vivian time to catch up and think. She wedged herself in between him and another man, jabbing her elbow into Nash’s side to make room for herself.
A friendly faced woman, who Vivian assumed was Nancy, approached them. “Hey, y’all. What can I get ya this afternoon?”
“Whatever you got on tap, Nance,” Nash said, and even though he’d meant it in a friendly way, his tone broadcasted his irritation. Nancy, poor woman, assumed it was against her, because how could she know it wasn’t, and wrinkled her brows as she turned her eyes to Vivian and let a cocked brow and half-smile speak for itself.
“Ms. Gretta said you have a strawberry wine?”
Her expression brightening, she said, “I sure do! It’s something new I’ve been working on for a couple summers. Finally got the recipe right. You’re gonna love it! Brb.”
Some of Vivian’s anger slipped. Brb? She’d only ever heard teenagers in the city talk in abbreviations. She’d always thought it was annoying, but the way Nancy used it was somehow endearing.
“You should leave tomorrow,” Nash said under his breath so only she could hear. “You don’t belong here.”
There was a pang in her chest that Vivian didn’t understand or want to. It was a sensation that she’d felt many times in the past for various reasons, and she dealt with it now the same way she did then: she balled it up and shoved it down deep until it twisted into something else. Resistance, maybe.
Nancy was heading back their way. With a false smile, Vivian said through clenched teeth, “Actually, I think I’m fitting in just fine. Maybe I’ll stay a while.”
“Here you are!” Nancy said, her bubbly personality making up for the animosity that must have been coloring the air around them. “Now make sure to savor that,” she said, pointing at the clear plastic tumbler she’d placed in front of Vivian. “It’s more of a hint of strawberry, so you really need to roll it around to get the full effect. I didn’t want it to be like those tacky wine coolers, ya know? Not that I have anything against them. Lord knows I’ve had a few dozen or ten in my day.” She whooped and slapped the table with her hand, startling a laugh out of Vivian that turned real in the next instant.
“Thanks, I’ll do that.”
“And you,” Nancy said, directing an accusing finger at Nash. “Be nice to this pretty lady.”
“But—”
“I can see that attitude a mile away,” she cut him off. “How are ya ever gonna get yourself a wife when you’re always bein’ a butt?”
She didn’t wait for a reply but walked away to start serving other customers.
“Unbelievable,” Nash protested, except no one was paying him any mind anymore. Vivian looked up just as he was looking down. Smiling, she stuck her tongue out at him then, ignoring his open-mouthed silent protest, she sipped her wine.
Wow, strawberry was better than she’d expected!