26. The Final Showdown

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August had rolled into High Valley like the lingering forest fire smoke, slow and scorching, but now suddenly it seemed like the end of the summer was just around the corner. The Festival of Peaches and the awarding of the Best Vendor Prize were less than two weeks away.

With no clear frontrunner for the prize, even the market vendors who hadn't previously put in much effort were now throwing everything they had into the competition. Valley Girl Ice Cream introduced a brand new product line, fresh fruit sorbets made entirely with local fruit and advertised by a friendly apple-headed mascot who was a hit with the kids. Sabina felt sorry for the person wearing that costume in the heat. In the next lane, Clear Spring Beauty offered "no filter" makeovers and samples of their sunscreen for sensitive skin, which Sabina took three of. Next door to her own stall, Blue Moon Kombucha laid out ornate gift baskets in collaboration with a local cannabis company: bottles of kombucha nestled next to gummies and bars of marijuana chocolate in the baskets. The price list for orders made Sabina's eyes pop but the tourists found them irresistible.

The energy of this collective effort buzzed through the whole market. And it worked: the customers loved it. Despite the forest fire smoke still hazing the air, they turned out in droves to experience the mini Oktoberfest at Gretel's Pretzels (now with a full oompah band in the afternoons) and take part in Ambrosia Bakery's cake decorating classes, every day at eleven and one, right there at a table in the market.

Mr. Chibana bustled around his busy domain with his clipboard clutched to his chest in delight, an irrepressible smile bursting out whenever he thought anyone wasn't looking. When he stopped to survey the tourists chattering over Blue Moon's gift baskets, Sabina even saw him give a little fist pump.

"Take that, Lakeshore Market," he muttered.

If Sabina wanted that prize, it was now or never. She needed all her products on deck, and for that, she needed to suck it up and ask cousin Wyatt to join her at the stall.

Unfortunately, he was thrilled. He grabbed her by the hand and shook vigorously like they'd just made a business deal. "You won't regret this. Your customers are going to be so excited to hear my pitch," he said. "Think of me as your business partner."

With inhuman strength of will, Sabina stopped herself from rolling her eyes.

She put out a small table for him at the end of the stall, so far down that he was only half under the shade of the canopy and could have been mistaken for not being associated with High Valley Honey at all. Far enough that Sabina didn't have to look at his glossy nonsense posters or hear him every time he managed to trick a customer into listening to him talk about the magic of the blockchain.

Her suffering was worth it, though: with Wyatt there, Mr. Chibana gave her the thumbs up to put out the mead. Now all she had to do was finish the big project, which meant she had to tear herself away from Mel long enough to focus on the research.

This was even more difficult than spending the long morning drives listening to cousin Wyatt's endless chatter and not telling him to shut up. She blamed the unspoken understanding that their time was limited. Mel didn't talk about the end of the summer, so Sabina didn't either, but it loomed over them anyway. Surely, if they'd met under any other circumstances, they wouldn't have felt compelled to spend every free moment together. There wouldn't have been such weight to every silly conversation, she was certain, and that intensity in Mel's eyes when she looked at Sabina definitely wouldn't have been so impossibly addictive.

In fact, if it wasn't for the deal they'd made, Sabina might have thought Mel was trying to sabotage her by distracting her from the remains of her plan. Especially when she saw what Otis, who didn't know about the deal, was doing in his final push for the prize: armed with a juicer he'd found at the church yard sale and an industrial-sized blender, he was turning overripe fruit and a whole truck full of ice into fresh-pressed juice and smoothies.

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