His expression softens. “You have nothing to do with this, Starlee. I started this long before I met you.”
“But you got in that fight for me.”
“I got in that fight because I have a temper.” He looks down at me, a slow smile spread across his lips. “And a little bit because of you.”
I push him in the side and he throws his arm around my shoulder. “It’ll be fine. I have Sierra to testify for my good behavior, and my social worker. I’ve stayed out of trouble other than that one night. I’m not worried.”
“Is that why you didn’t tell me about it?”
He kisses my temple. “I should head back in. I don’t want them to fuck up my pies.”
I laugh because it’s true. “George will eat all the filling.”
He scowls. “He’s a pig.”
“And your friend.”
“You’re too nice for me, do you know that?” His grips my hand.
“We balance each other.” I look toward the shop. “All of us.”
My worry doesn’t end when he heads back to the shop. I don’t like his freedom being on the line for me. There has to be something I can do about it.
19
“Starlee! I need you to take this box of lights up to Katie while she’s up on the ladder.”
If I hear my name one more time… Setting up for the Lee Vines Fourth of July Festival makes me consider becoming a recluse again. Leelee is one of the organizers, which means I’ve become the de facto grunt worker. Right now, Katie and I are decorating the lawn between the lodge and the Epic Café for the band stage.
“I want twinkle lights everywhere,” my grandmother declares. “Hundreds of them! Oh, and take this extension cord to Charlie. He just called.”
I added it to the stack in my hands.
“Here are more lights,” I say to Katie, placing the box on the ladder steps.
“You’re effing kidding me,” she mumbles. “There is no room for more.”
I shrug. “Leelee wants more.”
“Your grandmother needs to retire.”
I laugh. “You and I both know that’s not going to happen.”
A string of curses comes from the stage. Charlie is bent behind a massive speaker, scowling. A pile of tools surrounds him.
“Hey,” I say, “I’ve got this cord for you.”
“Thanks, put it over there,” he snaps, then glances up guiltily. “Please? Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I think everyone is a little stressed out right now.”
“You should see the Wayward Sun. Pies to the ceiling. Everything smells like sugar.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He laughs and it’s nice to see. “You say that, but there’s a limit. I think fifty pies was it.”
“Fifty?” Wow. They really had been working hard.