Page 88 of Just (Fake) Married
“People are bored of them,” Marion spoke up. “We need to shake it up. Do something different.”
“Well, I can announce that all the re-enactments this year will be performed by the actual Calloways and McGraws,” Harmony said. There was a ripple of excitement around the room. “As I am sure many of you in this room have heard, Ethan McGraw and I have gotten married.” She held out an arm towards me and I lifted my hand to wave at the crowd, who clapped.
Someone in the back cat-called, and I turned to see Mac standing in the back of the room. I waved. He gave me the finger. It felt like a sign of support.
“Okay, okay,” Harmony said, indulgently. “Calm down. Now, we had a private ceremony in Big Horn, but we would love to close out the Feud Day Festival with a new re-enactment followed by a reception, for the whole town.”
More excitement. Even Ida seemed excited by the idea. But this town always did love a party.
“You’re going to re-enact your wedding?” Marion asked, like the idea was lame. “But nobody dies.”
“Not yet,” I added, and everyone laughed.
Harmony glared at me.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Mrs. McCormick said. “I’d love to see you two get married, even if it’s not real.”
“And then a hosted reception for all those attending the festival,” Harmony said. “That should make people coming to the festival feel more like they’re part of the town than just visiting.”
“Who is going to pay for that?” Ida Stunk said, like she was going to be left holding the bill.
“The McGraws will pay for the beer,” I said, and that got a lot of cheers.
“There should be champagne,” Mrs. McCormick said.
“Ethan will pay for the champagne,” Mac said from the back, and I wished I could give him the finger again.
“I don’t like champagne,” Ida Strunk said, and I had to take deep calming breaths.
“What do you like, Ida?” I asked the woman.
“Peach Schnapps.”
I laughed, but she wasn’t joking. “I’ll…ah, I’ll see what we can do.”
“The high school will serve hot dogs and all proceeds will go towards getting a new curtain for the auditorium,” Marion volunteered.
“The clinic would like to serve something, too,” Dr. Blackfeather said. “Cookies and cupcakes? And the proceeds will go to the clinic.”
“These are amazing ideas,” Harmony said, scribbling everything down in her notebook. Mrs. McCormick was doing the same and they grinned at each other, delighted by the list-making.
“Well, now,” A big man with a mountain man white beard and a pair of overalls stood up. “I have something to say.”
“Oh, Chuck, give it a rest,” Irma Strunk said with affection in her voice, and the crowd laughed. She flicked her pink bangs away from her eyelashes.
“What would you like to say?” Harmony asked.
“I want the record to show that I think this whole feud day thing is nonsense,” Chuck said.
Harmony took a deep breath. “I know, Chuck. You say that every year.”
“The name itself is ridiculous. It’s too long. Can’t we make it Feud Days or Feud Festival?”
Harmony smiled. “And you ask that every year, too.”
“And I mean it every year!” Chuck cried, more passionate about this than I’d seen him about anything but ribs in my whole life.
“Okay, Mrs. McCormick, can you put that on the agenda for our next meeting?” Harmony asked.
