it—”
“If there’s such a thing as global warming,” Bennett cut her off, “then why is there a wintry chill in the air on an August morning in Virginia? Tell me that!”
“Because a cool front has come in from the mountains. It’s supposed to rain all afternoon and into the evening,” Lucy informed her friends. “I watched the local news while Lindy was curling her hair.”
“Poor R. C.,” Lindy sympathized while checking to make sure that her thick, black hair was still held captive in its invisible coating of hairspray. “And all of the vendors counting on nice weather. Rain must really cut into their profits.”
James swallowed the last of his coffee and set the mug back onto the table with a firm thud. “I hope it does rain. I can come back here and take a nap. My roommate makes sounds that a freighter crashing into a cliff couldn’t match.”
“Must’ve been lyin’ on my back,” Bennett said with a smirk. “Just gimme a push so I roll to the side. Won’t make a peep then.”
“You could’ve advised me about that little detail before last night,” James replied sulkily as his friends laughed.
“Come on, sunshine.” Bennett nudged James in the side. “We don’t want to keep R. C. waitin’.”
Lucy checked her watch. “Gillian, are you going to hang out here for a bit or do you want a ride to the festival grounds now?” Then, before Gillian could answer, she said, “Or I could just leave you my car, and Lindy and I can ride over with James.” She quickly added, “And Bennett.”
Gillian folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes. “I’ve already been on a most restorative walk through the woods this morning. My soul has been so refreshed by the wise spirits of those old pines. Can you imagine all they must have witnessed?” Spreading her arms out as though embracing the air, she opened her eyes and cast a serene glance at Lucy. “I think I’ll join you at Hog Fest. I’m going to watch the dog show. Mr. Richter agreed to allow me to hand out Pet Palace brochures to the audience members. What a gracious spirit he has.”
“Well, since we’ll all be eating barbecue for lunch, you can meet us after we’re done judging.” Lindy held out a map to Gillian upon which she had drawn a circle. “I checked out the vendor list and there’s a Greek food booth near our judging area. You could get a salad and a few falafels and then join us for the announcement of the winner.”
Gillian clapped with delight. “Oh, thank you, Lindy! I’ve never met a chickpea I didn’t like!”
Bennett grimaced. “Let’s get out of here, James. All this talk of vegetables is gonna put me off my meat!”
R. C. paced inside the tent where the judges would assess all the food entries in each barbecue category. A series of industrial floor fans spun noisily in all four corners and the tent felt refreshingly cool. Despite the temperate weather both inside and outside the tent, R. C.’s cheeks were flushed. As the four supper club members settled themselves at the table set in the center of the room, R. C. pulled back the nearest tent flap and examined the gray sky.
“He must be worried sick over the chance of rain,” Lindy whispered to her friends.
“The festival grounds are packed, too.” Lucy shot R. C. a troubled look. “Maybe the rain will hold off.”
As the foursome exchanged weather predictions, a couple in their late sixties entered the tent and greeted R. C. He shook their hands and then led them to the two available seats at the judges’ table. Next, he cleared his throat and straightened his pink bow tie by a millimeter.
“Welcome, judges, and thank you for coming. I see you’re all wearing your name badges. That’s good.” R. C. proceeded with introductions. “Mr. and Mrs. Connelly are seated on Mr. Henry’s right. The Connellys own a four-star steak restaurant in Blacksburg. They’ve judged for us for the past five years.”
“We like to break free of the
“If there’s such a thing as global warming,” Bennett cut her off, “then why is there a wintry chill in the air on an August morning in Virginia? Tell me that!”
“Because a cool front has come in from the mountains. It’s supposed to rain all afternoon and into the evening,” Lucy informed her friends. “I watched the local news while Lindy was curling her hair.”
“Poor R. C.,” Lindy sympathized while checking to make sure that her thick, black hair was still held captive in its invisible coating of hairspray. “And all of the vendors counting on nice weather. Rain must really cut into their profits.”
James swallowed the last of his coffee and set the mug back onto the table with a firm thud. “I hope it does rain. I can come back here and take a nap. My roommate makes sounds that a freighter crashing into a cliff couldn’t match.”
“Must’ve been lyin’ on my back,” Bennett said with a smirk. “Just gimme a push so I roll to the side. Won’t make a peep then.”
“You could’ve advised me about that little detail before last night,” James replied sulkily as his friends laughed.
“Come on, sunshine.” Bennett nudged James in the side. “We don’t want to keep R. C. waitin’.”
Lucy checked her watch. “Gillian, are you going to hang out here for a bit or do you want a ride to the festival grounds now?” Then, before Gillian could answer, she said, “Or I could just leave you my car, and Lindy and I can ride over with James.” She quickly added, “And Bennett.”
Gillian folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes. “I’ve already been on a most restorative walk through the woods this morning. My soul has been so refreshed by the wise spirits of those old pines. Can you imagine all they must have witnessed?” Spreading her arms out as though embracing the air, she opened her eyes and cast a serene glance at Lucy. “I think I’ll join you at Hog Fest. I’m going to watch the dog show. Mr. Richter agreed to allow me to hand out Pet Palace brochures to the audience members. What a gracious spirit he has.”
“Well, since we’ll all be eating barbecue for lunch, you can meet us after we’re done judging.” Lindy held out a map to Gillian upon which she had drawn a circle. “I checked out the vendor list and there’s a Greek food booth near our judging area. You could get a salad and a few falafels and then join us for the announcement of the winner.”
Gillian clapped with delight. “Oh, thank you, Lindy! I’ve never met a chickpea I didn’t like!”
Bennett grimaced. “Let’s get out of here, James. All this talk of vegetables is gonna put me off my meat!”
R. C. paced inside the tent where the judges would assess all the food entries in each barbecue category. A series of industrial floor fans spun noisily in all four corners and the tent felt refreshingly cool. Despite the temperate weather both inside and outside the tent, R. C.’s cheeks were flushed. As the four supper club members settled themselves at the table set in the center of the room, R. C. pulled back the nearest tent flap and examined the gray sky.
“He must be worried sick over the chance of rain,” Lindy whispered to her friends.
“The festival grounds are packed, too.” Lucy shot R. C. a troubled look. “Maybe the rain will hold off.”
As the foursome exchanged weather predictions, a couple in their late sixties entered the tent and greeted R. C. He shook their hands and then led them to the two available seats at the judges’ table. Next, he cleared his throat and straightened his pink bow tie by a millimeter.
“Welcome, judges, and thank you for coming. I see you’re all wearing your name badges. That’s good.” R. C. proceeded with introductions. “Mr. and Mrs. Connelly are seated on Mr. Henry’s right. The Connellys own a four-star steak restaurant in Blacksburg. They’ve judged for us for the past five years.”
“We like to break free of the
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