Anytime I want

The catfish festival

Growing up, the day of the Catfish Festival had always been Clarke's favorite day of the year. Not her birthday, not Christmas, not even Halloween. No. The Catfish Festival was her favorite day. It somehow managed to always fall on the best Saturday of the summer. It was never too muggy, it was never too hot. It was just sunny enough without being overwhelming.

There had never been a year where Clarke hadn't thought that the Saturday of the Catfish Festival was the best day of the year. That included the year she and Lexa were married. She had a feeling though that this would be the first year where she would be attending the festival and it wouldn't be her favorite day of the year.

Nevertheless, Clarke decided that if she was going to go to the festival, then she'd at least enjoy it. She'd enjoy the ferris wheel, all the different fair foods, line dancing and drunken debauchery.

Going all in also meant dressing for the part, blending in with everyone else, and that was something that she was struggling with. It was already nearly noon and the festival was in full swing and Clarke was still in her childhood bedroom, tearing apart her closet trying to find something to wear.

She managed to find a pair of cutoff jean shorts that fit her, along with an old white tank and a red flannel that she would throw over it once it got cooler in the evening. Shoes, however, were a problem. Everyone wore cowboy books to the Catfish Festival and her nice pair of Frye's were in New York. Not that she'd ever worn them up north.

"Mom!" Clarke yelled out, sticking her head out her door. "Do you have boots I can borrow?"

Clarke stood there waiting, listening as Abby rummaged around her closet making loud noises. A minute later, she walked into the hall holding up a pair of boots. Clarke mentally face palmed herself at the sight of the boots.

"I've only worn them a few times since you left, but that's why they weren't in your room," Abby explained as she handed the boots to Clarke. The cowboy boots were brown on the feet but had the pattern of the American flag on the upper sides of boots.

Clarke offered her mother a fake smile and took the boots from her. As far as Abby knew, they were just boots she'd left at home. She didn't realize the significance of them. Though now, she wasn't sure they had any significance.

Shaking off the residual memory, Clarke thanked her mother and put on the shoes.

"You riding with me and Dad to the festival?" Abby asked before she turned to leave.

Clarke contemplated for a moment, remembering her resolve to not leave any bridges burnt before she left to return to New York. "Yeah, sure," she nodded.

"Help me load the pies into the car, then we'll go."

"Great, I'm ready," Clarke nodded as she followed her mom down the hallway to the kitchen.

Less than twenty minutes later, Clarke and her parents had arrived at the fairgrounds. Clarke spotted the food tables and helped her mom bring over her famous pies. She made small talk with her mother's friends, friends who had once condemned her as doing the devil's work.

"Your momma was just telling us yesterday at book club about your engagement," Vera Kane spoke.

"She even showed us the article in the New Yorker," another friend confirmed. "Good to see that you've finally found yourself a good man and turned your life around. Left the devil behind you. You know, I always thought you were just as bad as the Woods girl, but I guess she was just influencing you all along."

Clarke bit her tongue. She was used to the remarks from her mother's friends, but in the past she'd always lashed back at them. This time, however, she stayed quiet. The last thing she wanted to talk about was Lexa. Ever since mailing the papers to her lawyer, she'd been avoiding thinking about her ex. The finality of placing the papers in the mailbox had hit her much harder than she had expected it to and she didn't want to think about what that meant.