Page 115 of Don't Call Me Daddy
I should be relieved that they know it was all a ruse, but there’s a part of me that finds myself wishing it were true—that somehow, I could be part of this family I’ve grown so attached to. But it’s too late for that now. I’ve got a keg to track down and a festival to run.
I order the corn dogs and lemonade and make my way over to the stage to find Luka and Guy in a heated debate with all five members of the folk band … who are supposed to be performing right now.
“Hey, guys, what seems to be the problem?”
The next ten minutes are spent listening, and making promises to fix the warm beer situation.
“If you could excuse me for just one second, I need to make a quick call.” I pull out my phone and call the only person I know who’d have a backup keg in their possession.
Jett answers on the first ring, and I tell him everything and beg him to help, even promising to pay him double for his inconvenience if he can deliver it in the next half hour.
To my utter surprise, he agrees, and I have no doubt in my mind if Leo—or any of his brothers for that matter—would have asked him for the same thing, he would’ve insisted he didn’t have enough. It makes me curious what skeletons he’s got hiding in his closet. After hearing how Jett had to run home that night to get help for his injured brother, I can only imagine he’s got his own set of issues …
I hang up the call. “There. I promise we’ve got an ice-cold keg on the way. How about I grab you all some lemonades in the meantime?”
After a little grumbling, they finally agree, and I call for backup to make the delivery. My feet ache, my head is pounding, and the mental countdown in my mind is steadily growing louder … and it’s only midafternoon.
“Where’d my horrible liar of a brother run off to? I don’t think I’ve seen him all day. You’d think he’d at least try to look like he cares about this festival since he’s going to be the new head honcho around here,” Luka says more to Guy than to me.
“Didn’t he say he was going to track down the pony?” Guy says with a shrug.
This catches my attention because I specifically sent him to deal with the float whileIwent pony hunting. We had a whole conversation about it.
“Why do you say that, Guy? Leo’s dealing with the float trailer … isn’t he?” I swipe open the iPad, revealing the newest schedule, including everyone’s assignments, broken down in thirty-minute increments.
Guy just shrugs before sucking down the rest of his lemonade. “That’s what he told me when he asked me to wait with the float until Big Dan showed up with the replacement parts.”
I press my fingers to my temple as the beginning of a headache starts to form. “Wait. Are you saying Leo called Dan to fix the float? Dan isn’t even working the festival … so where is Leo then?”
Luka tosses back a mouthful of ice and crunches it between his teeth. “How am I supposed to know? I thought you were the one with the master plan, fake sister.”
I’m genuinely confused and worried about the scheduling. This event can only run smoothly if everyone’s in the correct place, and we’ve got a lot riding on this with the surprise parade event for Frank’s retirement.
Guy holds out his phone and dials Leo’s number. It goes straight to voice mail, and then Luka tries calling him on his.
Finally, I try to call him on the walkie, not expecting a different result. He always has his phone on him, and I know he charged it last night before we went to sleep.
Seconds of silence pass before someone pipes up. “I thought he went to get you the coffee you’d asked for?”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t ask him to get me a coffee.”
Someone else speaks up. “He told me he needed to help with an emergency with the dunking booth.”
“Uh … I’m at the dunking booth now. Everything’s running fine. I haven’t seen Leo though,” another voice says.
I drop the walkie-talkie and look at his brothers, and we all stare at each other in confusion.
Where would he have disappeared to? And why hasn’t anyone seen him since … I check the schedule, confirming his last known station.
“So, no one’s seen Leo in four hours?”
I pull out my phone and dial Frank’s number. He answers on the third ring. I can barely hear him over the noisy chatter around his sponsor booth.
“Frank—er, Mr. Kingsley,” I correct myself, suddenly feeling weird about addressing him by his first name. “Yeah, uh … I just wanted to check to see if you’ve heard from Leo recently. He isn’t answering on the walkie or his phone.”
“No … I … I haven’t heard from him.” He covers the phone with his hand as he asks Mary and whoever else is working the booth with them. “No one’s seen him since the gates opened. Do you think something’s wrong? Ivy? What’s going on? Is everything okay? Do you need us to help you look for him?”
I shake my head, feeling worry set in. “I … I’m not sure. But I’ll let you know. I just need to think …”
