Sapphire
The Spring Fair unfolded on a remarkably beautiful day. The cold winds of early spring had disappeared, and following a week of rain that led vendors and ride operators to question if the fair would proceed, we were blessed with one of the warmest April days so far.
Birds sang, and flowers blossomed in every corner. Spirits soared, matched by high expectations for the day's unfolding events.
We had deliberated extensively on whether to sell entry tickets, ultimately deciding against it to avoid discouraging participation in activities and food.
By our treasury count, we were slightly over twenty-five percent toward our goal. Projections from ride and food sales brought that figure closer to fifty percent. Every cent collected in sales and pledges today was crucial.
Stacey's idea to contact alumni proved fruitful, gathering pledges from worldwide transfers and promises of in-person support. One particular response lingered in my thoughts as I headed to the school field for the fair.
"I'll be there."
Even now, my heart skipped at the memory of sending the email, nervously awaiting Zade's response. Randy responded promptly, seemingly pleased to help, but there was silence from Zade. By midnight, I almost ignored my phone until morning but decided to check. His unexpected response echoed in my mind.
"I'll be there."
The three words left an indelible mark, stirring nerves.
"He's just another alum, Sav. No big deal."
"Ha! But I gave this 'just another alum' my freaking virginity, planned to have a bunch of babies, and be with him for the rest of my life."
Suppressing thoughts of Zade, I focused on the tasks at hand.
Returning to the school field, I was all business. The morning sun illuminated the Ferris wheel, tents dotted the field, and trailers brought last-minute rides. I chose low boots for the softened ground and wore a black t-shirt tucked into jeans. My hair, usually in a bun, cascaded behind me.
In the staff tent, committee members prepared for the day. We color-coded volunteer shirts based on their roles. Committee members, including me, wore black with 'STAFF' printed on the back.
"Good morning, boss. Looking good!" Dayton greeted me, and I responded with a smile, donning a cap with a pulled-down visor.
"Are we ready to kick ass today?"
Affirmative cheers followed as we prepared with donuts and coffee. The cotton candy merchant set up her booth, marking the beginning of a steady stream of vendors and volunteers.
Before the gates opened, a lineup of children, parents, and patrons formed. I explained the cause to potential donors, collected checks, and ensured smooth proceedings.
Midday offered a brief respite, and I seized it with a hot dog and soda in my car. By my calculations, we were almost sixty-five percent toward our goal. The continuous flow of donations and our share from ride and food sales promised success.
Returning to the action, I observed the proceedings, identified gaps, and planned for next year's fair to be more organized. Fatigue loomed, but the committee's hard work was paying off.
Taking a break close to closing time, I approached the Ferris wheel and tapped Monica on the shoulder.
"Have you had a break yet?"
"Thanks, Sav. A breather would be great."
Taking the bag of ticket stubs, I stepped in to supervise the ticket collection while the ride operator continued.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen. We're wrapping up. Who wants one last ride on the Ferris wheel today? I've got space for twenty."
With a friendly smile, I gathered tickets from eager patrons. About to turn back to the Ferris wheel, I looked up and did a double-take. Suddenly, it felt like I was losing control.
There, standing a few feet away from me, was Zade!
Oh My God!
Throughout the day, I had consciously kept him out of my thoughts. Meeting people I had emailed, I resisted the hope that Zade would honor his commitment to be there. Any inkling of wondering if he had arrived, I quashed, reminding myself of his unreliable history in showing up. His promises felt like shifting sand.
Gladly, my visor and sunglasses concealed any expression. If he only knew how desperately I drank in the sight of him, looking at me with his eyes shielded. Unsure if his blue gaze was scanning me as mine did him.
Dear God, he was stunning.
In a soft yellow button-down shirt, my eyes surreptitiously traveled to dark blue jeans hugging his lean hips. Shocked, I realized my body warmed just from looking at him. What was I doing?
Suddenly, the hurt, rage, anguish, and hate that had become second nature to me vanished like hot breath on a freezing night. I struggled to recall how furious I was. All I wanted was to be close to him again, feel his hard body against mine, his skin like raw silk…
NO! The word echoed in my head like a scream.
Forcing myself to remember the familiar anger, hurt, pain, anguish, grieving, his revolting betrayal. I forcefully brought back the intolerable image of him with the other woman. Yes, he was visually appealing, but he was a disgusting human being who tried to steal from his best friend—Randy, a kind man who took a chance on him. Zade's repayment was stealing from Randy.
Ugh!
The desire evaporated, and I set my jaw defiantly.
Taking a deep breath, I watched him approach with long strides. Wearing sunglasses, his eyes hidden, the evening sun highlighting his cheekbones made him look stunning. Once he was mine, now a stranger. Tears burned the backs of my eyes, realizing I'd never feel his lips on mine again. I couldn't face him yet. I needed more time.
To prepare myself.
Turning on my heel, I almost ran to another part of the field. I dared not look over my shoulder until I felt safely distant. Thankfully, enough patrons and tasks kept me occupied.
Discreetly searching for his black head, the tallest man in a crowd, I spotted him chatting with sponsors. Why hadn't he come earlier when distractions were plenty? It felt like he deliberately waited for minimal crowds. Though I assumed he just arrived; he didn't have the look of someone at the fair all day.
Leaning against a tent, I scanned the field. I had to avoid him for the next ten minutes before the fair closed. How hard could it be to stay out of his way for the next six hundred seconds?