Goose in the Pond - Earlene Fowler [75]
On the way out, I told the security guard that I would be back to finish up some work, so not to worry when he saw my truck later on tonight.
Angelo’s Big Top Pizza was wall-to-wall students, office workers, and noisy kids by the time I arrived. Knowing that Wednesday night was popular ever since Angelo started his “All-you-can-eat-pizza-and-spaghetti-feed” to attract more weekday business, I’d reserved the small back room they normally used for birthday parties. When I arrived, Roy was busy playing a pinball machine with Grace cheering him on, while the rest of the group had already finished two pitchers of beer and was starting a third.
“I called the order in from the museum,” I said, flopping down on the redwood bench next to Jillian. “Hope four large pizzas are enough. I ordered two thin, two thick crusts. Pepperoni, sausage, vegetarian, and black olive.”
“Sounds good,” Ash said. “Want a beer?”
“No, thanks.” I held up my Coke. “Sorry I’m late. Had a few last things to take care of down at the museum.” I deliberately avoided Evangeline’s smiling face, afraid I’d give away my silly and presumptuous escapade with her quilt.
“You’ve done a great job with the festival,” Jillian said, patting my hand. “I honestly don’t see how you pulled this all together.”
“Thanks,” I said. “But I didn’t do it alone. Believe me, it would not have been possible without all of you. We’ve collectively done a good job and now we can hopefully enjoy the fruits of our labor. So tonight, even though we still have a few strands of barbed wire to repair, I want us just to have fun and prepare ourselves psychologically for tomorrow.”
“Here, here,” Roy said, turning from the pinball machine and lifting up his mug of beer. “Let’s just all have a good time. That’s what storytelling is all about.”
“As well as teaching truth,” Peter said, speaking up for the first time. “And for passing on the survival wisdom the next generation is going to need to keep from having to live in a totally concrete, strip-mall world.”
“Ah, put a lid on it, Greenpeep,” Roy said. “The only reason you guys want to save the environment is so you rich kids will have something to play in while the rest of us poor working slobs who can’t even afford one of your expensive yuppie climbing ropes are working to pay the taxes that buy those greenbelts and open space you all want.”
Peter glared at him. “That’s not true. The greenbelts and open-space lands bought by the conservancy are for everyone—”
Roy interrupted. “Sure, everyone who isn’t working fifteen hours a day to make ends meet and can’t even afford to buy a condo in Santa Maria.”
“The pizzas are here,” I said brightly. “C’mon, eat up, everyone, before they get cold.” I gritted my teeth and wondered if there was anyplace in this town I could go where someone wasn’t fighting.
Roy and Peter glared at each other, then sat down at opposite ends of the long table. Grace gave me an apologetic look, turned and whispered sharply to Roy.
“Nice save,” Ash said, sitting down next to me. “Pepperoni?” He picked up my paper plate.
“Sure,” I said absently. He pulled off two slices and slipped them on my plate. I stared down at it, my appetite suddenly gone.
“Don’t worry, darlin’,” Ash said. “Those two aren’t going to ruin the festival. They’re just snappin’ at each other for the pure fun of it.”
I picked up a piece of pizza and bit off the tip. “It’s not fun to me. I’ve got enough to worry about without them sniping at each other.”
“Like finding Nora’s killer?”
I finished chewing my small bite, studying his face warily. “What do you mean by that?”
He shrugged. “Just that being the police chief’s wife, I figured you have the inside track on information.”
“You’re wrong there. Gabe and I agreed from the beginning of our marriage that his work life and home life are completely separate.” I looked back at my pizza, hoping