“What?” Jen asked. She was trying to collect errant burrito wrappers into an empty doughnut box and the wind kept blowing them away.
Jen had purposefully set their blanket down as far away from the stage as possible, but even so, Fall Fest was a sensory explosion. A tiny child had wandered over to the Kingdom School picnic blanket to repeatedly slam the tambourine Colin had brought, and there was a line of kids patiently waiting for a turn with his guitar. And from the gazebo there were the chants of the second graders and the feedback of a PA system that was circa 1952.
People were shouting and cheering and despite it all, Abe had neither melted down nor insisted they leave.
“She fell down again,” Abe said with a snicker. Colin and Jen both turned in the direction of his pointed finger.
About twenty feet away, a teenaged girl lay on her back, singing loudly, her arms raised upward in an attempt to conduct the clouds.
One of her friends filmed her with a camera phone, while another tried repeatedly to get her up on her feet.
“Is that Laurel Perley?” Jen said.
“What is she on?” Abe said.
Laurel was now upright and sashaying in their direction. She stopped along the way, extended her hand to an older couple sitting in camping chairs. “Madame and Monsieur, voulez-vous enjoy Les Fall Fest Dancers?” she shouted.
“Oh dear,” Jen said. She stepped in Laurel’s path, and was hit by the sour smell of alcohol. Colin appeared on the other side of Laurel, and together they coaxed her over to their blanket.
“Laurel, I’m Jen, a friend of your mom, from the neighborhood.”
“Lucky for you,” Laurel said. “She’s a blast.”
“Here,” Colin said. He handed Laurel a water bottle. “Take a sip.”
Laurel held up hers. “I’vealreadygot.”
“This one is water, though. Good to hydrate.”
“Excellentidea,” Laurel said. “Big French test on Monday. De l’eau!”
“Right,” he said.
She sipped and closed her eyes and then leaned over and got sick on their blanket. Jen awkwardly patted her back.
“Gross,” Abe said. “Colin, it’s on your pants.”
Jen hadn’t noticed Annie run up, but suddenly she was on their blanket, too. She yanked away Laurel’s pink water bottle and unscrewed the top, sniffed and gagged.
“Where did you get this?” Her voice was a hiss.
“L.L. Bean,” Laurel said. “It’s right on the bottle.” Her laughter turned into ungainly hiccups.
“She’s going to puke again,” Abe said in a warning tone, “and it’s still on Colin’s pants.”
“I’m so sorry,” Annie whispered to Jen.
There were pink spots of humiliation on Annie’s cheeks and her eyes were mortified. Jen felt a complex mixture of empathy and relief that this time, at least, it wasn’t her kid everyone would be talking about.
“Don’t even worry about it,” Colin said. “It happens.”
Jen nodded lamely, wished she’d thought to provide reassurance before judgment.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Annie said to Laurel. She sounded bewildered as she wrapped her arm around Laurel’s waist and led her away.
“How old is she?” Colin said.
“Eighth grade I think,” Jen said.
“Yikes.” Colin shivered. “That’s messed up.” He’d removed his plaid shirt to dab at the sick stain on his jeans. In his thin white T-shirt, he looked skinny as a teenager. “I had an interview in twenty minutes at Breadman’s Market. Probably better to just bail?”
“Would it help if I go and explain that you were doused in the name of Good Samaritanism?” Jen said. “They know me. I shop there all the time.”
“Why are you interviewing?” Abe’s mouth was an accusing straight line. “Are you quitting school?”
“Never,” Colin said. “Assistant teachers don’t get paid a lot is all. It would just be an after-school job.”
It was becoming clearer by the day that Colin was good for Abe, and it hit Jen that they could be good for Colin, too.
“Wait,” Jen said. “What if we hired you from time to time?”
“You own a market?” Colin said. He and Abe shared a goofy smile.
“No, but I could use help with pickups and drop-offs and Abe would probably benefit from some help with his independent project—”
“We could pay Colin to compose music for my game,” Abe said. “He’s actually a decent musician.”