“So there I am, the man I like is flirting with a rattlesnake, children are weeping, dogs are howling and something just snapped. So I took a funnel cake and launched it at Chastity, nailing her right in the face. I followed that up with another one, which hit Logan square in the face. A food fight ensued, and it was the best time ever, until I had to clean up the mess. We budget now for clean-up, so it's all good.”
“So you basically turned the festival into a large food fight?”
“Yeah.” A dreamy look passed over her face and I suspected there was far more to why the swordfish festival meant so much to her; couldn't deny I was intrigued since we were talking about a festival dedicated to a fish.
“Saffron, I have to say this is the oddest little town I've ever visited. I really think I'm going to like it here.”
“I hope so.”
We were interrupted by an attractive guy, who was walking toward us, his smiling eyes on Saffron. He hunched down next to her and his focus turned to me briefly before he said, “I was just over at Broderick's and, oh my God, he has a new kid working there. I realize I'm being a dirty old man, but he's gorgeous. Tats down his arms and a dragon on his chest that wraps around his back. I think I'm going to take up construction as a hobby.”
Saffron's head tilted back and she laughed. “Yes, and Derek will just love that, I'm sure. Josh, I'd like to introduce you to the art student who's here for the summer to mentor with Logan, Lark O’Bannion.” I couldn't help the smile, since it didn't take Josh long at all to put it together and when he did, he blushed.
“Lark, with big, beautiful green eyes. I saw the name on his chest. So I guess I was just crushing on your honey.” His focus shifted to the ring on my left hand. “Affianced honey?” He asked which I thought was odd. Saffron proceeded to shake her head no but I was already answering.
“Yes.”
“Hot damn! I'll get to work immediately. It was very nice to meet you, Lark.” He turned to Saffron and kissed her on the mouth. “Nice try.”
Off he went, walking across the courtyard. Get to work on what? Saffron pulled me from that puzzle.
“Congratulations on your engagement to Bastian.”
“Thanks, but you looked disappointed just now.”
“Not at all.”
“Then why did your shoulders slump?” I asked.
“You just told Josh you were engaged.”
“And?”
“It's tradition in Harrington, when you get engaged the town has a square dance.”
“What like a real cowboys, petticoat, square dance?”
“Yup.”
I chuckled, then jumped nearly out of my seat when I heard what sounded like a wild animal screaming in agony.
“What is that?”
“Jaws.”
“What's Jaws?”
She turned her head and pointed to a huge old tank of a car that was traveling so slowly it was practically going backwards. “That's Jaws.”
The little old lady driving it looked to be about a hundred and twenty and when I caught a glimpse of the woman next to her, I thought I’d seen twins.
“The Fletcher twins.”
As I watched the car creeping along the street, I wondered why Saffron called the car Jaws. In the next minute, the car swerved a bit and, even though it was in super slow motion, there was no stopping the collision as the car hit the street sign: its post padded with foam.
“It's cheaper to stock up on foam than it is to keep ordering new signs from the state.”
“They do that often, I'm guessing.”
“Almost every day.”
“Why do you call the car Jaws?”
Saffron looked over at me and smiled. “Because it eats everything in its path.”
***
Later in the day Saffron went home for a nap, so I came back into town and set up an easel near the docks so I could paint the cove where the fishermen were all coming back in from a day out at sea. My training wouldn’t start until next week, Logan had offered me a few days to get settled, but the beauty around me was too tempting to wait that long to paint it.
My thoughts turned to the phone call I had made to Sophia earlier. She was off the wait-list, and had been accepted into Berkley. I was going to miss not having her close but I was thrilled for her because Berkley had been her first choice.
I took a moment to really appreciate the view before I started. The whitecap water roiled in a deep green. The old wooden boats came chugging in, their colors faded, their outriggers stretched crookedly toward the sky and their engines grumbling as they moved slowly along.
I had just reached a rhythm in my sketching when a child's voice interrupted me. I looked down to see a girl of six or seven with blond ringlets and big, blue eyes.
“What are you doing?”
I smiled. It was so like a child to have no fear of strangers.
“I'm painting.”
“My uncle paints. Your eyes look just like his.”
“Is Logan Dupree your uncle?”
Her little face just beamed with pride. “Yep.” In the next instance, her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes narrowed. “How do you know Uncle Logan?”
“I'm actually here to learn from him.”
“Oh, so you're Lark. Why did your parents name you after a bird?”
“My mom named me after a flower, Larkspur, but I like Lark.”
“I guess that makes more sense.” But I could tell from her expression that my explanation didn't make any sense at all.
“What's your name?” I asked.
“Callie.”
“Where's your mom, Callie?”
Guilt washed over her features before she looked down and dug her patent leather foot into the soft soil, clearly she was nervous. “I might have run away.”
“Do you do that often?”
“Only when they're looking for stuff for Michael. Shopping for boys is so boring.”
“Your mom is probably really worried.”
“Probably.”
My first thought was to call Saffron, but I didn't want to wake her from her nap so I reached for my phone and called Bastian. He was probably with Callie’s dad. “Hey beautiful.”
“Hi. Is Broderick with you?”
“Yeah. What's up?”
“Could you tell him I have Callie? She seems to have run off from her mom.”
I heard Bastian relay the news and heard Broderick's voice seconds before Bastian came back on the line. “Can you keep her with you? We're on our way.”
“Sure.”
I hung up as Callie steadily watched me. “Who's Bastian?”
“My fiancé.”
“Oh.”
“He's working with Broderick at his house.”
“Uncle Broderick, is he coming for me?” Uncle Broderick? If Logan and Broderick were both her uncles, then was this Dante's child?
“Yes.”
“Cool.”
She walked around me and looked at my painting, but judging by the wrinkling of her nose, my skills clearly did not impress her. I was tasked to keep her here. How to do that? Then inspiration struck and I reached into my case for a pencil.
“Would you mind if I sketched you?”
“Me? Really?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
She toed the soil again, so I asked, “Do you like playing in the dirt?”
Her little face lit up. “Yes.”
“Well, why don't you play in the dirt and I'll sketch you.”
“That's a good idea,” she said before she plopped her butt down and immediately pulled both of her hands through the loose soil of the garden bed. I turned over a new sheet of paper and got started—her little cheeks round, her nose pert, her lips pinched as she concentrated. Unlike when I sketched Bastian, smudging the lines to soften her neck and chin didn't cause me to blush. When her face was perfect, I moved to her corkscrew curls: shading to add the dimension of color in those blond strands.
Her hands took a bit of time to perfect, because they were the most adorable little hands, short of finger and chubby of palm with dimples at her knuckles. I was careful to capture the detail of the dirt that stained them.