Page 38 of A Secret Chance
Baxter saw a few of the people around him raise their eyebrows. He leaned into Barry, “Careful, everyone listens here.”
“Got it,” Barry nodded. “What is that delicious smell?” he asked.
Baxter pointed to the bright red food truck parked ahead, “I think it’s coming from there.”
“Hey, Nicole,” Barry shouted and pointed to the source of the sweet fried smell. “Pit stop.”
“We’ll see you at the carving contest,” Nicole pointed ahead, and Barry gave her the thumbs up.
“I hope those two behave themselves,” Baxter shook his head. “They don’t mean to be insulting. It’s just how they are.”
“They’ll be fine,” Barry said. “I hope.”
Baxter smiled and shook his head. The two of them stepped into the line up at one of the food trucks.
“Looks like a flat donut.” Barry was on his toes trying to see what was being handed down to the people in front of him.
“They are.” A lady in front of them turned and smiled. She had a baby in a sling wrapped around her body. “You can choose your toppings,” she pointed to the whiteboard in the window.
“What do you recommend?” Baxter asked.
The woman was bouncing up and down, her hand resting on the back of her baby. “They’re all good, but I go for the traditional, cinnamon and sugar. Sometimes I add a little lemon.”
“Sounds delicious,” Barry smiled. “How old is your baby?” he asked.
“He’s almost a year.”
“I loved that age.” Barry’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at the woman. “Although my wife was the one with the serious sleep deprivation.”
Baxter knew very well that Barry and his wife Carol had employed at least two nannies. He watched his lead barrister in action, pretending to be interested in this woman’s baby. Baxter couldn’t imagine his executive actually wanting to know about this small human’s sleeping patterns, but Barry was putting on a convincing show.
When they reached the window, the woman, who had introduced herself as Megan, smiled and received her plate of fried dough. “It was nice chatting with you,” she said.
“You too,” Barry replied.
The woman waved and disappeared into the crowd. The two-piece band, featuring an upright bass and acoustic guitar started playing and the familiar intro toBrown Eyed Girlrang out through the crowd. Most people around them started to sway to the music and Baxter found himself joining in.
“Want to check out the chainsaws?” Baxter asked. Barry was blowing out hot steam into the air and fanning his mouth. “Are they hot?” Baxter laughed.
Barry elbowed him as he continued to fan his mouth, and with their steaming cinnamon sugar treats balanced in hand, the two of them headed to find the chainsaw carving.
“Where do you think it is?” Barry asked.
“Oh, we’ll hear it,” Baxter smiled. His tree planting days were long behind him, but he still remembered just how ear-piercing a chainsaw could be. “We should probably find some earplugs—”
“Hi, Brock.” Baxter stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t been called Brock in years. The sound of the band slipped away as he turned, but it wasn’t Lauren who had shouted his name, it was the realtor’s little girl. He racked his brain to remember her name but was coming up with a blank. The only name that was coming to his mind was Garfield.
“Hi... you,” he said. The little girl was wearing a bright purple hat and holding one of the pastries on a plate in front of her. “Are these good?” He held up his own.
“They’re a gastronomic delight,” she shouted.
“Well then, I can’t wait to try it.” He took a bite and she did the same. “Mmm. A gastronomic delight,” he said after swallowing.
“Glad you liked it. Bye.” She waved and then turned and disappeared into the crowd.
“Bye,” Baxter waved with his pastry.
“A gastronomic delight,” Barry chuckled. “Someone’s got an advanced vocabulary for her age.”
