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After the parade, people scattered to other festival activities. I headed toward the park, hoping Ethan might still be there after his photo shoot. Alex had already posted the shot on Maplewood’s social media feed, so he’d finished with that.
People waved and called out congratulations as I walked along the sidewalk. I mustered peppy responses while my mind fixated on how I’d spoken to Ethan. So far, it didn’t seem like word had circulated about my behavior.
Near Harmonic Circus, Kirk was talking animatedly with his dad. When he saw me, his expression clouded over.
Strange. From what I’d witnessed, he’d played brilliantly as part of a group on the store’s float, though Oscar’s presence there had puzzled me since he’d been scheduled to be with the hockey players. It had been a nice addition, though, because Oscar had moved to the music the young musicians played.
“Mr. Thompson?” Kirk approached as if he thought I’d lash out at him, which hurt my heart. “I wanted to say I’m sorry if I messed up the parade or got Ethan in trouble. He was just trying to help me.” Kirk’s earnest explanation made my chest ache. “I don’t think I could’ve played if he hadn’t helped me with my anxiety attack.”
That was why Ethan was late.
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.
While I’d been going on about schedules and responsibility, Ethan had been helping a nervous kid find his courage.
God, I was such an idiot.
I swallowed hard. “You didn’t get him in trouble. I’m glad he was there for you. You played great by the way.”
Kirk nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. “Thanks, Mr. Thompson. It was a lot of fun once it got going. And I’m glad I didn’t cause a problem.”
“It’s all good.” I forced confidence into my voice.
“See you at the concert tonight?”
I nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it. The show and the fireworks will be a great end to the weekend.”
“It’s been epic.” Kirk’s smile returned. “I’ll see you around.”
As he returned to his dad, I wanted to crawl into a hole and pull it in after me. How could I apologize enough, not only for my behavior but for refusing to listen to his explanation?
I passed a couple of hours helping volunteers, moving on autopilot, checking items off my dwindling list. The more time that passed, the more concerned looks I received, making it painfully clear that word had spread about the altercation.
Finally, I arrived at the library for the last story time of the festival. “Are you sure you’re okay for this?” Clara asked as she joined me near the children’s area. “We can cover it.”
I sighed.
“Sorry.” Her sympathetic look pierced straight to my heart. “You know how this town works.”
“Yeah.” I scrubbed my hand across my face and over my head. “I appreciate your concern. Hanging out with the kids for a while should be a pleasant distraction, though.”
As the previous storyteller thanked their audience, I stepped in. A few kids headed back toward their parents but most stayed seated.
“Have you all liked the extra stories over the past few days?” I sat on the floor, forgoing the chair.
The couple dozen kids sounded off together.
“It’s great!”
“Loved it!”
“It should be like this all the time,” five-year-old Leslie declared at the end of the cacophony.
“We’ll see what we can do about that.” Their energy lifted my spirits. “So, who wants to pick what I read?”
A few hands shot up, and I picked Daphne, who’d raised her hand first. She went to the new books section and returned with Finding My Rainbow.
All the energy drained from my body. Of course it would be the book Ethan had read a few days ago.