Grandma Pat was Robbie’s mother-in-law and Jasmine’s maternal grandmother. “Tell her thank you, but I’m staying in Fool’s Gold.” She had work and a wedding to plan. There was also the slight chance she might be caught under some mistletoe with a very handsome Jonny Blaze.
* * *
Around noon on Thanksgiving, Jonny drove into town for the parade. He was curious to see the festivities, not to mention cheer on his car. He wasn’t sure Mayor Marsha was a 1956 El Dorado kind of gal, but who was he to judge?
He was surprised by the number of people already lining the streets. It took him a while to find parking and then he had to walk nearly a mile back to the parade route. He passed lots of families. Parents with kids in strollers and even parents with teenagers. He would have expected the older kids to head off to be with their friends, but from what he could see, they were pretty willing to stay with the old folks. A few people smiled and called out a greeting. He had a feeling that was about the day and not him, which he liked.
The temperature was brisk—probably the midthirties. Cold but not unbearable. The sky was clear, but he would swear he could smell the promise of snow. On the corner, Brew-haha had set up a kiosk with mugs of cocoa and coffee. Next to that was a food cart that sold all kinds of Thanksgiving-shaped cookies. Turkeys and pumpkins and Pilgrim hats. He got a coffee and a couple of cookies, then strolled around in the crowd.
There was plenty of conversation. He heard snippets of different discussions on everything from the favorite part of the parade to what side dishes a certain mother-in-law expected her new daughter-in-law to make. When the faint notes of music drifted toward them, the crowd went quiet, then began to cheer.
He turned with everyone else, eager to catch his first glimpse of this small-town parade.
“Oh. My. God. You’re Jonny Blaze. I can’t believe it. What are you doing here? Do you live here? Is it really you? Can I have an autograph and take a picture?”
It took a second for the frantic words to register. Jonny turned and saw a woman in her thirties staring at him. She was holding a toddler and there was a slightly older girl hanging on to her free hand. He knew he’d never seen her before and guessed she was a tourist in town for the long weekend.
The woman stared at him, then nodded. “It’s you. I can’t believe it. Mike, hurry. It’s Jonny Blaze. You need to take our picture. This is amazing. Can we kiss, because wow, would I like to kiss you.”
This happened all the time. He knew exactly what to do, how to establish boundaries. He’d been doing it for years. Only in the past few weeks, he’d forgotten what it was like to have the public intruding into his life. So he wasn’t prepared and in the seconds it took him to figure out what he was supposed to say—beyond “Hell, no, we can’t kiss”—the woman was moving in for her picture.
“You’re going to feel really foolish in a minute.”
The voice came from behind him, then a woman who had to be in her seventies pushed in front of him.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she continued cheerfully. “That he’s that movie star Jonny something, right? Happens all the time.” The old lady slapped him on his upper arm. “This is my no-good grandson. He can’t hold a job to save his soul. My daughter is pulling her hair out, let me tell you. Now he’s not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but he’s learned how to clean out gutters. You have some work he could do? He’s honest and he’s cheap.”
The woman holding the baby took a giant step back. “You’re not Jonny Blaze? And you were going to kiss me? I don’t think so. Yuck.” She rolled her eyes. “Why would I want to kiss a stranger?”
My point exactly, Jonny thought as the woman and her family hurried away.
He turned to the old lady. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I saw them moving in for the kill and figured you could use some help.”
“I’m usually better than that.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. Everyone gets to have an off day. I’m Gladys, by the way.”
“Jonny Blaze.”
She grinned. “Like I don’t know that. Nice to meet you officially. You’re very handsome.”
He laughed. “Okay, don’t get scary.”
She winked. “I know things. You’d be amazed.”
“I probably would be. And then you’d dump me and break my heart.”
“Very possibly.” She eyed him speculatively. “I do have a great-niece who’s single. Actually, Nancee’s in a relationship with a no-good jerk, but does she listen?”
“They never do.”
She motioned to someone he couldn’t see. “I’m leaving you with protection, seeing as you’re woefully unprepared to take care of yourself.”
He turned and saw Madeline walking toward them. Gladys quickly explained what had happened.
Madeline turned to him. “Are you okay?”
She was genuinely concerned. He could read it in her blue eyes. Talk about strange—people didn’t look out for him, they took from him. He was expected to be the one to provide. If he needed help, he hired security.
She was dressed in a bright red coat that matched her lip gloss. A matching scarf was wrapped around her neck and she had on mittens. Nothing overtly sexy, yet he found the outfit appealing. And very Fool’s Gold.
“I’m fine,” he told her. “Just an overly zealous tourist. Gladys shut her down.”
“Gladys is good at doing that. But brace yourself. She’s going to want payback.”
“She already mentioned us sleeping together,” he said, telling himself she really had been joking.
“If only it would stop there.” Madeline glanced around. “You’re a sitting duck out like this. Come on.” She pointed down the street. “You can hang out with my family. We’re small in number, but mighty in spirit.”
He wanted to say he could take care of himself—that he wasn’t some dweeb who needed protecting. Only he liked her looking out for him. It was strange, but kind of nice. Like the town, he thought as he walked with her.
Madeline stopped in front of an older couple. Jonny remembered what she’d said about being a late-in-life surprise for her parents.
“Mom, Dad, this is Jonny Blaze. Jonny, my parents, Joseph and Loretta Krug.”
If the older Krugs were surprised, they didn’t let on. They both greeted him, then shook his hand.
“No relationship to the French Krugs,” her father said with a wink.
It took Jonny a second to make the connection. “The champagne guy,” he said.
“That’s the one.”
“I wouldn’t mind being related to a champagne baron,” a tall, younger man said.
Jonny took in the similarities between Joseph and the man standing next to him, then held out his hand. “You must be Madeline’s brother.”
“Robbie. Nice to meet you. And this is my daughter, Jasmine.”
“Hi,” the young woman said with a smile. “Wow, you really are Jonny Blaze.”
“It’s just a rumor,” he told her.
The music got louder and everyone turned toward the street. He could see a banner carried by members of the high school drill team. Behind them was his car with Mayor Marsha sitting on the open back, her feet firmly planted on the rear seat.
“She’s