Page 77 of Some Like It Hott

Our other staffers are arriving, so I leave Preston and Weggers to their conversation, showing all our helpers what I need them to do. We’re essentially running a mini festival inside the big festival. By the time I get everyone set up, people have started arriving. Our booth is mobbed, and I give an internal fist pump of delight.

Weggers has appointed himself master of ceremonies in the meantime, a kind of circus ringleader. He calls out to people as they arrive, corralling them into lines and directing them to our various activities.

He’s also put himself in charge of ethics. Everyone who participates in any activity scans a QR code and leaves a star rating. Weggers makes sure we don’t hover over people as they review us. “It would be unfair for you to exert undue influence over their selection,” he says sternly.

I swallow that giggle, too.

We can barely keep up with demand, and most people want to try all the activities we’re offering. When I check out our ratings so far, we’re operating at a solid 4.8. (There’s a one-star review from someone who didn’t like the hot pretzel bites because there were only four mustard options and none of them was stone ground.)

Our best customer, it turns out, is Nan of Rush Creek Bakery, who has left her shop in the care of her grandson and is participating in every last activity.

“I’m giving you five stars on everything,” she tells me.

Weggers, lurking nearby, straightens and steps our way. “There’s no need to disclose that,” he tells her primly. “It creates the suggestion that you might have been bribed?—”

“Oh, shut your flappy trap,” Nan says. “Mansplainer.”

This time, my giggle escapes. Weggers gives me an outraged look.

“I’m going to play Nerf tag,” Nan says.

“That doesn’t seem age appropriate,” Weggers says primly.

“Listen, you old bag,” she says. “I’m at least five years younger than you.”

“But you don’t see me playing Nerf tag. I’m keeping my dignity and my knees intact?—”

“Because you’re a dried-up coot,” Nan says. “Watch me.” And with a challenging look over her shoulder, she trots off in the direction of the Nerf tag stand.

“Wretched misery,” Weggers mutters. Then, to my utter shock, he heads off after her. I must make a startled sound because he turns around.

“Someone has to make sure she doesn’t kill herself,” he says and shrugs.

“Did that happen?” Sonya asks, appearing at my side. “I didn’t hallucinate it, right?”

“It definitely happened,” I say.

A moment later, Nan runs past me, blasting Nerf darts over her shoulder. She’s followed close behind by Arthur Weggers, cursing creatively.

Sonya and I can’t stop laughing for several minutes.

40

Natalie

Later that day, Hanna helps me unpack another truckload into the stable stall. Then I drive back to where I left Preston. In the meantime, he’s finished disassembling the splatter tent. He’s standing over the pieces like a hunter over a wildebeest, looking triumphant.

“You guys okay without me for this last load?” Hanna asks.

“Totally,” I say. “You get back to Eloise and Easton.”

She heads off in their direction, and the two of us start loading up the truck with the last of our stuff.

“You did it,” I tell him. “You fulfilled the will.”

“We did it,” he corrects. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“So. You’re free to go.”

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