that. Please listen to me.”
“Okay, okay. I’m going back to Shirley and Eleanor right this minute. I’ll see you around 6:30.”
“Cara, remember, this is not your concern. Cousin Edie is not our concern.”
“Yes, I know. I’m walking back to Shirley’s booth.” She hesitated, then said, “I love you. Thanks for caring about me.”
“You know I really do, and I’ve got to hang up. Two women just came in the shop and Jason’s busy with people already here. See you at home.” The phone went dead.
After one more glance at the RV, Carrie headed back toward Critter Quilts and Baby Cuddlys. But she changed course long enough to learn that no one was minding the wooden toys.
Chapter Six MILTON SALES
During her mid-afternoon break Carrie walked around to check on the wooden toy booth. No one was working there. She turned to the man next door, admired his bird feeders and houses, then asked, “Has the guy who makes these wooden toys come back?”
“Yeah, he’s been in and out. I watch his things best I can when he’s gone, but he takes his money box with him so I can’t sell anything. You know Milton?”
“Uh, he’s a friend of my cousin’s but I don’t know him myself. I did see him go to one of the RV’s in the parking lot mid-morning.”
“It’s his RV. I don’t think he’s feeling too good. We’ve known each other, let’s see, twelve years now, because we’ve had booths next to each other that long. He knows he can trust me to keep an eye on things if he steps out for a while, and Betty on the other side does too. The three of us have been working this fair side-by-side for a dozen years, and Betty’s been an exhibitor here for twenty-five. It’s too bad he isn’t here all the time, though. Lots of folks like those wooden toys and he’s missing sales.”
“You think he goes out to smoke?”
“Nah, doesn’t smoke. Milton’s kind of a queer duck, though. Other years he’s left his booth for a time, and I never knew why. I think he’s pretty restless.”
“Milton?”
“Milton Sales.” The man laughed, turned away to take money for a bird feeder and wrap it, then continued, “Milton Sales. Nice name for a salesman, right? He doesn’t seem to need the money he makes here, though. Close-mouthed about it, but I get the idea he retired early from some pretty high-flying job. That’s not to take away from the quality of what he shows here, as you can tell. I saw you earlier, buying one of his cars.”
The man stopped talking long enough to sell a birdhouse, then he asked her, “So, is your cousin at the fair? Milton’s not married, and . . .”
“She was here earlier—maybe you remember a lady wearing a rust-colored scarf talking to him.”
“Oh yes, I think I remember. Well, tell her maybe she should go to the RV and check on Milton, if she knows him well enough to do that.”
“I’ll tell her when I see her. If he comes back, you might ask him to come say hello to me—to ease my mind, you know. I’m helping out in the booth selling baby quilts, fourth from the front in the next row.”
“Okay. Take care now.” He went back to helping customers.
Milton Sales hadn’t shown up to say hello by 5:00, so Carrie hurried around to his booth while Eleanor and Shirley were starting to close down. “Milton ever come back?” she asked the birdhouse man.
“Yeah, he was here for a couple of hours, but left a few minutes before 5:00. Said he didn’t have time to go see you.”
“I just wanted to be sure he was okay,” Carrie said. “Thanks.” She walked back to the quilt booth and helped Eleanor cover the displays while Shirley put lids on boxes of extra merchandise. Time to forget about Milton Sales. He was okay, that was enough.
And, after all, Henry had insisted none of this was their concern.
The three women left everything except money and receipts for sales under the watchful eyes of night guards and pulled out of the parking lot at 5:40.
“Okay, okay. I’m going back to Shirley and Eleanor right this minute. I’ll see you around 6:30.”
“Cara, remember, this is not your concern. Cousin Edie is not our concern.”
“Yes, I know. I’m walking back to Shirley’s booth.” She hesitated, then said, “I love you. Thanks for caring about me.”
“You know I really do, and I’ve got to hang up. Two women just came in the shop and Jason’s busy with people already here. See you at home.” The phone went dead.
After one more glance at the RV, Carrie headed back toward Critter Quilts and Baby Cuddlys. But she changed course long enough to learn that no one was minding the wooden toys.
Chapter Six MILTON SALES
During her mid-afternoon break Carrie walked around to check on the wooden toy booth. No one was working there. She turned to the man next door, admired his bird feeders and houses, then asked, “Has the guy who makes these wooden toys come back?”
“Yeah, he’s been in and out. I watch his things best I can when he’s gone, but he takes his money box with him so I can’t sell anything. You know Milton?”
“Uh, he’s a friend of my cousin’s but I don’t know him myself. I did see him go to one of the RV’s in the parking lot mid-morning.”
“It’s his RV. I don’t think he’s feeling too good. We’ve known each other, let’s see, twelve years now, because we’ve had booths next to each other that long. He knows he can trust me to keep an eye on things if he steps out for a while, and Betty on the other side does too. The three of us have been working this fair side-by-side for a dozen years, and Betty’s been an exhibitor here for twenty-five. It’s too bad he isn’t here all the time, though. Lots of folks like those wooden toys and he’s missing sales.”
“You think he goes out to smoke?”
“Nah, doesn’t smoke. Milton’s kind of a queer duck, though. Other years he’s left his booth for a time, and I never knew why. I think he’s pretty restless.”
“Milton?”
“Milton Sales.” The man laughed, turned away to take money for a bird feeder and wrap it, then continued, “Milton Sales. Nice name for a salesman, right? He doesn’t seem to need the money he makes here, though. Close-mouthed about it, but I get the idea he retired early from some pretty high-flying job. That’s not to take away from the quality of what he shows here, as you can tell. I saw you earlier, buying one of his cars.”
The man stopped talking long enough to sell a birdhouse, then he asked her, “So, is your cousin at the fair? Milton’s not married, and . . .”
“She was here earlier—maybe you remember a lady wearing a rust-colored scarf talking to him.”
“Oh yes, I think I remember. Well, tell her maybe she should go to the RV and check on Milton, if she knows him well enough to do that.”
“I’ll tell her when I see her. If he comes back, you might ask him to come say hello to me—to ease my mind, you know. I’m helping out in the booth selling baby quilts, fourth from the front in the next row.”
“Okay. Take care now.” He went back to helping customers.
Milton Sales hadn’t shown up to say hello by 5:00, so Carrie hurried around to his booth while Eleanor and Shirley were starting to close down. “Milton ever come back?” she asked the birdhouse man.
“Yeah, he was here for a couple of hours, but left a few minutes before 5:00. Said he didn’t have time to go see you.”
“I just wanted to be sure he was okay,” Carrie said. “Thanks.” She walked back to the quilt booth and helped Eleanor cover the displays while Shirley put lids on boxes of extra merchandise. Time to forget about Milton Sales. He was okay, that was enough.
And, after all, Henry had insisted none of this was their concern.
The three women left everything except money and receipts for sales under the watchful eyes of night guards and pulled out of the parking lot at 5:40.
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