Dreaming of His Pen Pal's Kiss - Jessie Gussman Page 0,34
event, announced the competitors and stated the rules.
Dante leaned down. “Too bad we couldn’t have entered this one. I think I’m much better at dancing than I am at going down chimneys.”
She stretched up, still not tall enough to reach his ear. He had to bend over.
“So you’ve gone down a chimney before?” She allowed there to be a lot of hope in her voice.
He gave a cheesy smile. “No?”
“Man, that was going to be such an asset. I was really feeling hopeful.”
“I could tell. The pie thing really scares you, doesn’t it?”
“It does. It’s embarrassing, not to mention it hurts if the edge of the pie plate hits you in the face. You know, what you see on TV where somebody throws a pie and it hits them perfectly in the face with the top of the pie. That’s great. But what about people who don’t throw very well? The pies that hit you with the rim of the pie plate. I’m telling you, it hurts. And you’re not allowed to lift your hand up and keep it from hitting. Not only that but something else that people never think about is whenever you get hit in the face with a pie, you can’t breathe.”
“You’re right. I never thought about that.”
“Maybe this makes me weird, but I kind of like to breathe. It bothers me when I can’t.”
“No. I think that’s pretty normal. I feel the same way anyway.”
“So, yeah, of course it’s embarrassing to get a pie in the face in front of people, but there are other factors to take into consideration.”
“Well, shouldn’t we lose just to save anyone else from going through that kind of suffering?”
She stopped, her jaw dropping, and she stared him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Someone has to do it. It might as well be us.”
“I think I’m going to see if I can get a different partner.”
“Maybe that’s my strategy. If I get fired as your partner, I definitely won’t get a pie thrown at me, right?”
“If you get fired as my partner...I have a little bit of clout in this town, and I will make sure that you are on that stage getting a pie thrown at you. Somehow.”
“Clout? You have clout?”
“I do. I happen to be related to the organizer of the festival. And I think I can approach it from the angle of you’re some kind of big-name football player. People should recognize you and enjoy the chance to throw a pie at you. Especially the visitors to the town.” She let her eyes sweep over the crowded field in front of the stage where the dancing contest was to take place. “Surely some of these people know you. And since we have speakers that can reach the entire town, it will be a simple matter of announcing that anyone who wants to throw pie at the big-name football player can do so. Actually, I think there are people who would pay for the privilege. This could be a big moneymaker.”
“I feel like I’m being blackmailed.”
“For a big guy, you’re pretty in touch with your feelings.” Both of them had been walking with smiles on their faces, and kind of by mutual agreement, they’d stopped in the middle of the back of the crowd of people, just keeping an eye on the stage as Mrs. Densmore finished up the rules and the introductions.
“I think we have time to watch one of these, if you want to.” His brows lifted, as though it were all up to her.
“I don’t know where Crew and Mrs. Scholz are in the program, but I hope they’re first. Because I’d really like to see them.”
As they spoke, Mrs. Densmore announced the first competitors. Journee and he exchanged glances as she called out Crew and Mrs. Scholz’s names.
“Looks like we get to have everything,” Dante said low.
“I’ll agree with you after we don’t lose the Not Such an Ironman Ironman contest. And not one second before.”
“Wow. She drives a hard bargain.” He didn’t say any more as the strains of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” came over the speakers.
Crew, dressed in a Santa outfit, shuffled on the stage with Mrs. Scholz. Her orthopedic shoes clumped right next to the boots he wore, and her movements were endearingly jerky, while Crew seemed to be too nervous to relax and enjoy his performance.
“This is one of those things you just can’t take your eyes away for a second,” Dante said, leaning down but, as he said, not taking