Page 58 of Look on the Bright Side

“Of me?”

“No, dummy. They’re incredibly proud of you. But your dad was, what, a welder? Your mom worked at a school. Not the kind of incomes that let you save thirty or fifty grand for a big wedding.”

“This wedding costs a lot more than fifty grand. A lot more.”

“And there you go again. You’re being wonderful, paying for this—”

“I can easily afford it.”

“Yes, Lorenzo, we’ve covered that. But every time you remind people, you take away from that wonderfulness. Let someone else talk about how generous and successful you are. When it comes from you, it’s bragging.”

There was a silence as he processed her words. Then: “I’ll meet you at the Copley Square Plaza at seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”

“Can I come to your place to change first? Then we can go together, like an actual couple.”

“Fine. You have the address.”

“Thanks. I think you’re missing out with the fair, but—” He’d already hung up. She looked at Connery, who was watching her with rapt interest. “Can you believe this guy?” Connery whined. “You’re a hundred percent right, puppy.”

Lark had been Dr.Satan’s pretend girlfriend for a month now. The two dinner dates at the Naked Oyster, the family picnic, and very little other communication. A small curveball had been thrown yesterday, when Sofia had texted Lark, inviting her to a Renaissance fair in Norwell, about half an hour south of Boston. Henry’s mother was a falconer—so cool!—and was giving a demonstration. Lark had the entire day off, the first in six days, so she said yes, assuming Lorenzo would be there, too.

She texted Sofia now, sensing Lorenzo would fail to do so. Lorenzo can’t make the fair but I can still come, if that’s okay.

Of course! I figured Dr.Workaholic wouldn’t make it, Sofia texted back immediately. Just find the falconing area around 2:00. The demonstration starts at 2:30. Xoxox!

•••

Lorenzo had a point about the Renaissance fair. It was kind of…well, he’d used the word stupid, and that was too harsh. Dorky? Silly? Over the top?

Wicked fun, in other words.

People really got into these things, she thought as she admired a woman in a purple gown with wide bell sleeves, a leather corset and two pointy cone things on her head. There was a guy dressed all in leather, his long beard braided, leading a donkey. A teenager dressed up like a fairy, her face painted in exquisite detail to look half human, half insect.

Lark made her way through the crowd, following the hand-painted signs to the birds of prey demonstration. A man on stilts teetered toward her, blowing her kisses, and she laughed and dodged around him. Another guy, dressed as a knight, but spray-painted entirely silver to make him look like a statue, stood very still as people posed next to him. In general, there was lots of cleavage, lots of chain mail. A corral off to the left was filled with horses for actual jousting sessions, and there were signs advertising demonstrations on leather crafting, belly dancing, sword fighting. Vendors in colorful tents sold jewelry, witch hats, tiaras, circlets of flowers and, er, elf ears. Attempted accents of all kinds—Irish, Scottish, English—filled the air, with shouts of “m’lady,” “prithee,” “good morrow” and “fare thee well” punctuating the air.

It also smelled fantastic around here. Roasting meat on spits, turkey legs and donuts seemed to be the most popular foods, and her stomach growled. People drank out of enormous steins, and everyone seemed so happy. Imogen and Esme would love this, she thought. Little kids had butterflies painted on their faces, some folks wore horns, and heck, when was the last time she’d done something so weird and fun?

There was the birds of prey ring, and Lark immediately saw the cluster of Santinis—Silvio and Anita, Sofia and Henry, the delightful Izzy, Dante, and Noni in her wheelchair. A jangle of nerves shivered up her legs…without Lorenzo here, she felt even more guilty about pretending to be his girlfriend.

“Lark!” Sofia called, and welcomed her with a hug. “Your timing is perfect. They’re just getting started.”

“Hi, everyone,” she said. Izzy hugged her, too.

“Hey, Lark,” Dante said.

“Hey.” Her cheeks warmed, so she turned away quickly. On the stage, there was Henry, dressed in…well, in tights and a puffy shirt, God bless. He saw her and gave a nod, and Lark waved.

“Good to see you,” Lark said to Silvio and Anita.

“We’re going to sit up front and be supportive,” Anita said, blowing Lark a kiss. Such nice people. Silvio gave her a wink and a smile as he was led away by his wife.

Out of respect, she went over to Noni, who may or may not have been asleep, her pale blue eyes slits, and crouched down to be at eye level. Today, Noni wore a wig of thick, curly white hair, which was slightly askew and low on her forehead. Should she fix it? Nah. Best not to assume that much familiarity. The old lady didn’t flick an eye or move, but in case she was awake, Lark whispered, “Hello, Mrs.Santini.”

“You,” she rasped, making Lark jump a little. “Whatta you doin’ here?”

Awake, then. “Um…just here to see the falcons, I guess.”

The old woman glared. “Where my food at?” she asked, not looking away. “Lorenzo, my food.”

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