“Oh. That's too bad. I heard he was going to,” Kate said. What? It was for a
good cause.
The girl's eyes grew round. “That would be awesome if he did.”
Kate smiled. “Let me see what I can do.”
The cotton candy booth was calling her name, and she obeyed, getting a large purple spool of it fresh from the drum. She hadn't had cotton candy in years.
“Cotton candy, your favorite,” Peter said.
She turned, choking on a huge wad she'd just stuffed in her mouth. He was
standing to her side, eyes glinting.
“Oh,” she said in a muffled voice. “Want some?”
He shook his head. “No, thanks. More of a caramel apple guy, myself. One,
please? No sprinkles?” he said to the high school girl behind the next table.
Kate nodded, swallowing a mouthful of spun sugar. So, now that he thinks I'm a pig… “How's the booth going?” she asked.
He took the apple from the girl, passing over two dollars. Kate couldn't help
notice the lingering look she gave Peter. Back off, girly, she thought.
“Booth is going well. I'm taking a break to help set up the dunk tank.”
Wait, dunk tank? This was going to be easy. “Oh. Are you, uh, the guest of
honor?” she asked.
He pointed at his chest? “Me? No way. My students would destroy me.”
“Yeah, but, it's for charity, remember?”
A boy, a student, bopped up. “Mr. C, someone said you were getting in?”
Peter narrowed his eyes at Kate. Now it was her turn to point at her chest. “It wasn't me,” she said, laughing. “But I think it's a great idea, don't you?” She directed this to the boy, who grinned and nodded.
“C'mon, Mr. C. It's only a little water,” he coaxed.
A new set of students showed up.
“Yeah, c'mon, Mr. C,” Kate said. “Mis-ter C, Mis-ter C,” she began
chanting, making sure not to make eye contact with Peter.
The students picked up the chant. “Mis-ter C! Mis-ter C! Mis-ter C!”
Peter opened his mouth, then stepped back, bringing his hands up in
surrender. “Okay, okay, you hooligans, I'll do it.”
A cheer went up. There was that schoolboy look of his, and her heart did a
little jig.
“Geez, it's not enough I have to make sure you don't blow up the lab, you want to drown me, too?”
The students laughed, then jostled around him, moving him towards the
booth.
Kate followed. “Oh, Peter, I'm so proud of you,” she said in her best fawning
frontier woman voice.
“Save it, sister. And don't you get any ideas.”
“Me?” she said.
“Yeah, you. You've got a mean streak.”
“Well, now that you mention it, I have been working on my curve ball lately.”
“You probably couldn't even get it to the target, much less hit it.”
