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I notice that there are a number of people standing around on the sidewalk.
It’s mostly men in suits and ties, though there are a few contractors in jeans and tool belts, and a couple of women in business wear.
The man next to the mayor reaches out as well. "Abi. It’s great to see you again. Thank you for everything you've done here.”
And I’m suddenly facing Brady Schuster.
My number one bully. The guy who made me feel like a silly, stupid little girl who didn’t belong in the same rooms with him. Ever.
He is now the city council member from this district. He’s in his mid-twenties. He’s an engineer. He’s married with a little girl. We’re both adults.
But the little girl who is still inside of me doesn’t care. My stomach still knots, and I feel a wave of nausea.
I’ve more than proven that I did belong in those rooms with him. Hell, I belong in even better rooms. But I’m standing just across the street from the school where Brady would whisper and laugh when I stood in front of the class to present, and while he’s taller and broader than he was back then, his eyes are the same.
I definitely feel sick.
I swallow. “Brady,” I say, tightly.
His smile wavers. Clearly, I’m not feeling very friendly.
“This is all so amazing,” he says, and his tone is sincere. "Thank you so much for choosing to put the farm here."
“Well, I?—”
“You have to see how much we’ve gotten done,” Johnny says, ushering me toward the front doors. “We’re very proud of the progress and the prince insisted a tour be the first thing on the agenda.”
My feet suddenly feel stuck to the sidewalk. I stop and stare at the mayor. “The prince?”
He laughs. “Yes. He was adamant. He’s been pushing hard to get things done, kind of riding our asses, just between you and me.” He grins and gives me a wink. “But we have to admit that it’s all impressive and the neighborhood—hell, the whole city—is so excited to see it come to fruition. His passion and”—Johnny grins and lowers his voice—“his money and influence with some pretty impressive people, have made this project really come together and we couldn’t be more thrilled.”
“But he’s been singing your praises since the first minute,” Brady adds, stepping past my other side to pull the door open. “I was initially surprised to hear a name I know from the past, but when I thought about it for even thirty seconds, I realized I shouldn’t be surprised the smartest girl to ever come out of Shreveport is the one giving back to us like this.”
I look at him, my brow lifting. “Smartest? I don’t remember you ever using that word to describe me.”
I can’t believe I said that out loud.
Brady can’t either. He stares at me for a few seconds, then has the grace to get a little red in the face. “I’d like to think that I’ve gotten a little smarter over the years. That I’ve learned how to treat people a little better.”
I lift my chin.
“I’m sorry, Abigail,” he says, and he sounds sincere. “I was terrible to you in school, and you didn’t deserve that. The fact that you’ve come back to do all of this for our old neighborhood in spite of the fact that there are probably some not very good memories here for you, says a lot about how much better a person you are.”
I swallow hard. I didn’t expect to get an apology from Brady. Ever. Certainly not when I woke up this morning, or even when I got on the plane to Shreveport. But…it does help.
“Thank you for saying that,” I tell him.
“Of course. And I should have done it before now. I hope you don’t think it’s only because of the farming program you convinced the prince to facilitate here.”
“No, I believe you,” I say, trying to be gracious. Then because when Torin is on my mind, I can’t concentrate well on anything else, not even a long-time-coming apology from my childhood nemesis, I look at the mayor. “Torin told you this was my idea?”
“Of course. He had us all read about your plan to bring farms like this to neighborhoods like ours. To involve the schools, various neighborhood groups, including medical clinics.” He motions to two women standing next to the building. “This is Dr. Felicity Wilson, she’s the superintendent of schools. And this is Dr. Amanda Connor. She’s the physician at the local clinic. They’re both very excited about the program and look forward to being involved. We’ve also got scout leaders, church groups, child advocates, food pantries, and others asking how they can help.”
I feel tears well up suddenly and I have to blink rapidly.
Torin did all of this.
I haven’t even stepped inside the building yet and I’m already overwhelmed.
