Page 87 of Just (Fake) Married
“It’s not stupid,” she snapped back.
“See, that’s the Harmony I know,” I said. “Now, you have ideas for the festival, right?”
“Sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to be elected chairperson.”
“Of course you are. You are the right person at the right time. Now go show them what the future looks like for this town.”
“You’re right,” she said, standing up straight, shoulders back. “Let’s go do this.”
Damn. I wanted to kiss her.
When we walked in, all the chatter in the room died with a hush as everyone turned to look at us. Our hands still joined. Her ring winked in the overhead lights, drawing everyone’s attention. Mrs. McCormick came rushing over.
“Come, come,” she said, squeezing both of us in a quick hug. “The mayor is about to start the meeting but I saved two seats for you.”
“Thank you,” Harmony said, and we hustled up front, aware that everyone was watching us. When we sat, I stretched my armacross the back of her seat, stroking my thumb along the slice of skin revealed on her shoulder. She jumped and looked at me like she didn’t know what I was doing, so I winked at her.
This is part of the show, I reminded her with that wink. This is what we’re here to do.
She smiled and pushed her hair behind her ear. She got it. She pulled that exploding purse up on her lap and dug through it until she found a notebook. She kept the notebook and put the purse under her chair. We all heard the water bottle fall out of it and roll from the front row all the way to the back.
I laughed, I couldn’t help it.
“Want me to get that?” I whispered in her ear and she shook her head, nudging me back with her shoulder. I was close enough to smell her. Cedar fire from the store and the hot chocolate she’d been drinking. But under that was the smell of her skin. I leaned closer.
“Are you smelling me?” she whispered.
“Yep,” I said, without embarrassment.
Mayor Gallup stood up behind the small lectern on the table in front. Beside him was Mrs. McCormick, acting as secretary and taking notes.
“Howdy everybody, good to see such a big crowd here tonight,” he began. “Now, we know what we’re all here to discuss. We want some fresh ideas to bring our once proud and unique festival back to its former glory. To that end, we’ll need to select a chairperson-”
“I nominate Harmony Calloway as chairperson,” Mrs. McCormick jumped in, using her best school teacher voice, which was still incredibly effective.
“Well,” Mayor Gallup said, his smile turning into a frown. “We should maybe discuss a potential list. I could also certainly add my name to the roster of candidates-”
“I second Harmony’s nomination,” someone in the back said. I couldn’t see through the crowd to be sure, but it sounded like Dr. Sandra Blackfeather.
“All those in favor?” Mrs. McCormick asked, and nearly the entire room lifted their hands.
I looked back at the crowd and so did Harmony. Everyone was smiling at her, looking at her with such faith and energy.
Our marriage might be fake, but the pride I felt for her in that moment was very real.
“Oh, my gosh,” Harmony breathed. She blinked away the tears that had sprung up in her eyes. “That was so fast…”
“Say thank you,” I breathed in her ear. “And get up there.”
She stood up with her notebook and headed over to the table with the lectern on it. She shook Mrs. McCormick’s hand and Mayor Gallup’s, who did not seem as excited by the events as our fifth-grade teacher.
Marion, the teenager from the front desk, slipped into the room and sat against the wall. I pointed at the seat Harmony had just left next to me, but she shook her head. She opened up her gigantic backpack and pulled out a laptop.
“Thank you,” Harmony said, standing behind the lectern. “Thank you, very much. That’s very kind of you and very unexpected. I appreciate it.” She opened up her notebook and cleared her throat. “I’ll cut right to the chase. I think it’s time we moved the Feud Day Festival away from the past and into the future.”
“Hold on a second,” Mayor Gallup interrupted. “The historic re-enactments are what the visitors love about our festival. Any town can have a dunk tank and a bake sale. We bring the past to life.”
“People will expect them,” said Ida Strunk.
