"I'd like to go," Crunch said. I glared at him, my eyes wide.
"What?" he asked. "I would. We've been lying low now, there's no sign of problems with the club. It's not like we're going to roll up there riding the bikes and wearing colors. We'll blend in, lie low."
"It's not a good idea." I cut off a bite of pork chop, popped it into my mouth.
"I think it would be fine," Crunch said. "Besides, I'm sure the whole town will be there. June too."
I took a deep breath. "Then you and dad go."
"Suit yourself," my dad said. "Crunch and I will go down tomorrow night, take the truck. Probably for the best anyway. No sense in you getting all riled up when you see June with someone else."
I sighed. My dad could be a manipulative asshole when he wanted to be. Still, I couldn't help but ask anyway. "With who?"
Dad shrugged, stood up. "I don't know," he said. "June's a smart lady, good catch. But I'm sure she doesn't like the idea of being with the town sheriff anyhow." He stood up, pushed away from the table. "I've got an apple pie in the oven if you want some. Anyone?"
"You know it," Crunch said, patting his belly. He smiled broadly at me, the shit.
"I want pie!" MacKenzie screamed. "And I want to go to the fair! Can we go, mommy?"
April nodded. "We definitely can go," she said, squeezing Crunch's arm. "It'll be good, spending time together as a family."
My dad was being completely manipulative, suggesting June would go to the town birthday with someone else, especially when it had been a town tradition for years. Which meant that it had been me and June's tradition too. It was a transparent attempt to make me jealous, incite me to go to the fair.
And it had worked.
The One Hundred and Forty Seventh West Bend Birthday Bash was nearly the same as the way I'd remembered the earlier versions, the main road through the middle of town blocked off to traffic and crowded with people. Lights were strung from one side of the road to the other, crisscrossing and anchored to the historic buildings, lending a romantic vibe to the historic town. Vendors lined the edges of the street, selling handmade crafts and local food. All of that was just like any other country fair. It was the huge white tent in the grassy lot beside the old Baptist church, housing the band and dance floor, that held the memories for me.
"Are there rides?" MacKenzie jumped up and down, pulling on the sleeve of April's shirt. "Can we do rides? Can we?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" April said, scooping Mac up in her arms. "But let's let Mr. Austin show us around a little bit first, okay? This is really nice, Stan."
"Cade used to love it, growing up," my dad said. "Of course, it didn't used to be crowded like this, either. Now you've got people from the bigger towns coming in, tourists too. Not just locals anymore."
When we were kids, the town celebration was all about the carnival rides. In high school, it was all about coming here to dance under the huge open tent, an excuse to hang out and flirt with girls. For me, though, it was always about being here with June, slow-dancing in the summer evening, her body pressed up against mine.
I had no desire to go inside. It wasn't the same, being here without June. I wanted to go tell her I'd been wrong, that more than anything, I wanted to be with her. But that wasn't good for her.
"No, I don't want to go dance," MacKenzie said, beside me, her nose wrinkled. "Where are the rides?"
"We should go on rides," I agreed. "I think there must be some around here somewhere."
It was a while before we'd exhausted MacKenzie enough on rides for my dad to pull us back toward the tent, where the adults tended to congregate. He craned his neck, trying to see around the crowds. "Cade," he said. "You remember Mr. Hendricks, your old shop teacher? He wants to say hi. I told him I'd bring you by. And a couple guys from down at the VFW want to say hello."
"Dad," I said. "No VFW stuff, no socializing. We're not meeting up with everyone in town. We're trying to stay low." It had been over the top when I'd come back here, after I'd gotten the Silver Star. I didn't need a big production being made again. Especially now, under these circumstances.
I knew it was a bad idea, coming here.
"It's a couple people. I'll find them, bring them over quietly," dad said. "I'll be back." He ducked inside the tent and disappeared.
"Mommy," MacKenzie whined. "I don't want to go in there. Just one more time in the bounce house?"
"Only if daddy says it's okay," April said.
"Please," Crunch said, turning toward me. "Please, don't make me do the bounce house again. Let me go where there's beer."
I sighed. "Fine. Let's go in."
"Oh, I see how it is," April protested. "Now I'm stuck with the bounce house and the screaming kids?"
"You mind, babe?" Crunch asked.
"No, you boys go," she said. "I'll just be outside with the hordes of children hopped up on cotton candy."
"Yay! We can have cotton candy, too!" MacKenzie grabbed April's hand and pulled her toward the rides.