“God, are we stuck?” she squealed.
Her words turned into a scream when their rotating chairs of death plummeted toward the earth. If that wasn’t stomach turning enough, they were flipped and twirled through the air, and by the time all of it had ended, Retta was grateful they hadn’t eaten more than they had.
Once they returned to solid ground, they sat there until their seatbelts were released with a loud whoosh. They looked at each other, grinning. This feeling made the turbulence worth it.
Their hands remained intertwined as they got up, and all of Retta’s senses and attention migrated there. It took stepping off the podium, collecting their belongings, and returning to the fairgrounds for them to separate.
“Do you want to try another one or do something else?” Duncan asked.
“I kinda want to know what’s happening over there,” she said as she pointed to an area where people gathered around a slightly raised stage.
A sign said a show would start in five minutes.
“Very informative,” Duncan said of the cryptic message.
While they waited amongst the audience for their curiosity to be satisfied, Retta’s initial anxieties about being at the fair were realized when someone said, “Oh, my God, Retta?”
She turned and quickly put a foot between her and Duncan. “Claire!”
Retta’s unease at seeing her fellow baker and friend had nothing to do with the woman herself but rather how unprepared she was to debut Duncan as her boyfriend. She and Claire were two Black women in the same industry, and they’d always been friendly and supportive of each other’s careers. To the extent that Claire had been one of the handful of people who’d reached out when Retta dealt with her professional setback.
“Hold on, I need to give you a hug,” her friend said as she got closer. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I know. I thought you were out east,” Retta said.
“We moved back late last year. Louis,” she pointed to her husband whom Retta had met a few times before, “got a job here.”
Her husband was preoccupied with talking to a small group of people.
“That’s great. We’ll have to grab coffee soon and catch up,” Retta said.
“Yes, of course,” Claire said, eyeing Duncan who still stood near her.
Well, now she had no other choice but to make introductions. “Duncan, this is my friend, Claire. Claire, this is Duncan. My…”
The word “boyfriend” lodged in Retta’s throat. She pressed her lips together to make the sound of the first consonant, but all that came out was a pathetic whistle.
Thankfully, Duncan stepped forward and said, “Hey, nice to meet you.”
“Same here,” Claire said.
They all stood there nodding and looking at one another, and Retta made no effort to foster a conversation between the two because that would undoubtedly lead to questions.
“By the way, your T-shirt’s dope,” Duncan said.
Claire’s eyes widened. “You’re a fan?”
“Since day one.”
“Really? Oh, my God. My husband and I host viewing parties. If you’re ever interested, let me know. Retta, you have my email, right?”
She nodded, but they didn’t seem to notice her response because the two of them were already engaging in a rapid conversation about some sci-fi TV show. They didn’t let up for several minutes.
“Wow, it was really nice meeting you,” Claire said to Duncan, smiling.
“Yeah, and I’ll definitely check out that podcast.”
Claire and Retta hugged once again before she left to rejoin Louis.
