Chapter Six
O nce they reached the fairgrounds, Lizzie could not believe the huge expanse of exhibits, and wondered if they would be able to see everything. The area looked quite different from what it was in modern times.
Jeremiah continued to hold both her and Olivia’s hands as he led them past several interesting exhibits still under construction that Lizzie would have liked to visit. “You will love my aunt’s cooking,” Jeremiah said. “She and my Uncle Frank have a quaint restaurant at the fair.”
Lizzie smiled, hoping they would reach the restaurant soon.
“Are we there yet?” Olivia asked. “I’m hungry.”
Almost as if in response, Lizzie’s stomach growled.
Jeremiah laughed. “We will be there shortly.” He nodded up the road. “See the restaurant with the canopy?”
Mary Margaret nodded and said, “yes.”
“That is where we are headed.” Jeremiah increased his pace, forcing the girls to hurry their steps.
“I’m tired of walking,” Olivia announced, and Lizzie almost laughed. On the train, Olivia couldn’t wait to get up and move around, and now she wanted to sit down.
Without letting go of Lizzie’s hand, Jeremiah paused long enough to scoop Olivia up in his arm. She giggled and flung her arms around his neck. “You’ll be sitting and eating in no time, my lady.”
“Good. I’m hungry.” Olivia glanced past Jeremiah to look at Lizzie. “She’s hungry, too. Did you hear her tummy growl?”
Lizzie blushed. “I think you’re a bit too outspoken.”
Jeremiah’s laugh was hearty. “I think you’ve gone and embarrassed your sister.”
“She’s not—” Lizzie caught herself. She’d have the girls in tears if she mentioned not being their sister. Even if this was a dream, she didn’t want to see either of them cry.
“Then by all means, continue being honest,” Jeremiah said. “Apparently, your sister isn’t embarrassed. The early afternoon sun is merely turning her cheeks rosy.”
“You’re even more impossible than she is.” Lizzie pulled her hand from his.
“I’m sorry.” His expression sobered. “I was only having fun.”
“Apparently at my expense,” Lizzie mumbled.
“Jeremiah!” a well-rounded, middle-aged woman called out before they reached the tables and chairs on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. “How good to see you.”
Jeremiah hugged the woman. “Aunt JoAnn, this is Olivia.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, young miss.” Aunt JoAnn gently tapped the end of Olivia’s nose with her index finger, and Olivia giggled. “And who might these other two lovely ladies be?”
“My name is Lizzie, and this is… my younger sister, Mary Margaret.” Lizzie extended her hand, but JoAnn just glanced at it a moment.
“Isn’t that something men folk do?” She looked at Lizzie, stepped closer and hugged her. “It’s nice to meet you, dear.”
“She hugs everybody,” Jeremiah said. “We thought we’d stop for lunch and do some sightseeing.”
“Wonderful.” JoAnn pulled out a chair at one of the tables. “It’s nice outside today. Why don’t you all have a seat out here?”
Jeremiah sat Olivia in the seat next to the one his aunt had pulled out.
Mary Margaret took the seat offered. “Thank you.”
“I just pulled a batch of fried chicken out of the fryer,” JoAnn said. “I will bring you all some of it, along with the fixings.”
Lizzie smiled because she didn’t know what to do. Once Jeremiah’s aunt was out of earshot, she turned to him. “I take it we don’t get to look at a menu to order?”
He chuckled. “My aunt is old-fashioned.”
Lizzie frowned. As opposed to what? She wondered. After all, they were living in ancient times.
“She likes to keep people fed.” Jeremiah scooted his chair closer to the table and leaned closer to Lizzie. “Technically, they’re not opened until the fair opens. So, she and my uncle cook to feed the many workers.”
“Ah.” Lizzie nodded. It explained why the fairgrounds weren’t crowded. She hadn’t noticed any other people wandering around like they were, taking in the sights. They had seen a boy playing ball with a dog, but one of the construction workers had called out to him by name. She assumed he’d brought his son to work with him. Her stomach grumbled again. She didn’t fancy chicken on a bone. “Any chance they’d have chicken fingers?”
“Eww,” the girls complained.
Jeremiah laughed so hard his chest shook.
“What?” She stared at Jeremiah, noting how cute his dimples were when he cut loose with laughter.
He wiped the moisture from his eyes. “You do realize chickens don’t have fingers, don’t you?”
Lizzie nodded. “Yeah.” She thought for a moment. “Oh, you mean when I asked about chicken fingers?”
Jeremiah nodded. “Yes, they have claws.”
“You’re right.” She couldn’t help but giggle. “Where I come from, chicken fingers are boneless, skinless, breaded and fried pieces of chicken breast. Very delicious.”
“And where might you come from?” Jeremiah’s expression sobered. “I overheard your sisters complaining earlier about you playing pranks on them. This wouldn’t be one of those pranks you’re trying to play on me is it?”
A lump formed in her throat. She nodded.
“It is All Fool’s Day, after all.” Jeremiah leaned toward her again, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Something tells me you like to have fun.”
Even though the way Jeremiah said it didn’t sound suggestive, like most guys she knew would insinuate, she still blushed.
Thankfully, his aunt showed up, with presumably a helper, carrying four plates of food. “Here you go.”
They set the beautiful plates, that were designed with an image of Thomas Jefferson, surrounded by five images of palaces at the fair and another of a garden, in front of them. The two girls received smaller portions and a glass of lemonade, while hot tea was placed in front of Jeremiah and Lizzie. “Do you think I could trouble you for some ice?” Lizzie asked.
“Sure, dear.” JoAnn instructed the male server to retrieve her request. “If you all need anything else, just let me know.” JoAnn winked at Jeremiah and went back inside.
Lizzie had the sneaking suspicion Aunt JoAnn was doing the math, and she’d added it up all wrong. She and Jeremiah were not an item. Not that he wasn’t cute, in a boyish sort of way. But he was nearly five years younger than she was, at least her real age. Apparently, all one needed to do to become younger was get their beauty rest. It’d already taken seven years off of her.
She picked at her chicken in silence. It really was delicious, even though it had bones. A couple moments later, their server brought her a bowl with an ice cube. Did he think she was a dog and wanted to drink out of a bowl?
“Excuse me,” she said, before he walked away. “Could you bring me a glass of ice?”
“I would be happy to.” He nodded and left.
“I’m not even going to ask.” Jeremiah smiled and took another bite of his chicken.
Lizzie stirred a couple of teaspoons of sugar into her tea, noting the man quizzically watching her from the table next to theirs. When their server returned with her glass of ice, she poured the cup of tea into it and took a sip. “Ah, now that’s refreshing. Nothing like a nice cold glass of iced tea.”
The man at the other table smirked. “Waiter, may I have one of those?”
“Yes, Mr. Blechynden,” the waiter replied. “Would you like me to put it together like the lady did as well?”
“No, I’d like to do it myself. Thank you.” He motioned the waiter away and addressed Lizzie, “What did you say that drink was called?”
“Iced tea.” Lizzie giggled. “Haven’t you ever had it before?”
The man shook his head.
Lizzie took another sip and paused. Weren’t there some timeline continuum rules or something? Good thing this was only a dream, or she may be altering the future.