I shove him off, give my parents and other brothers hugs, and then wave them off, too.
And then, because I’m not ready to go home yet—I wander back into the bar.
There’s a different feel to it in the morning, with sun streaming through the windows. Cheyenne is clearing the tables from our breakfast, so I chip in.
“You don’t need to do that, hon,” Cheyenne says, accent thicker than molasses.
“I don’t mind,” I say.
Danny’s in the kitchen washing dishes, and I stand beside him. “What can I do to help?”
He tosses me a dishrag. “You any good at drying?”
“I can handle it.”
Cheyenne puts the dishes away when I hand them to her, and soon, we’ve cleaned up from breakfast just in time for the kitchen staff to come in to start lunch.
A text from Scottie comes in.
SCOTTIE
Are you coming to Palmetto Park? Today’s the big cleanup to prepare for the 4th, remember?
KAYLA
Do I really have to come? We sent the team today, right?
SCOTTIE
You *should* come, but you don’t *have* to. It just depends on what you want the town to think: that you’re too stuck up and important to get your hands dirty or that you actually care.
KAYLA
Well, then.
I’m not sure if I pay you too much or not nearly enough.
SCOTTIE
Definitely not enough. I’ll be waiting at the north entrance with gloves and a grabber for you.
“I’m sorry to leave so quickly, but apparently there’s a cleanup at Palmetto Park today.”
“You don’t look excited,” Cheyenne says.
I bite the inside of my cheek. I haven’t been to a community event without Sean in months. The idea of going to one now, offacing comments and side-eyes without him, leaves me feeling as wrung out as Danny’s washrag.
“I don’t know,” I say. “The town hasn’t exactly warmed up to me yet.”
Danny wheels closer to me and pats my arm. “They’re testing you. They want to know you care about the town, not just the team.”
“How do I show them that? Everyone acts like I’m faking it.”
“It’s all about stayin’ power,” Cheyenne says, a half-smile on her face that speaks of years of regret and hard-earned wisdom. “Pretending’s easy. Showing up takes work.”
Palmetto Park is already buzzing by the time I arrive. Scottie’s waiting with gloves and trash grabbers.
Lucas is leaning against the fence, shirtless, of course, clearly trying to flirt with Scottie. He’s wearing athletic shorts and muddy sneakers, arms folded to maximize the view of his biceps. Scottie looks at him like he’s an obnoxiously chattering squirrel and keeps walking. Logan and Rivers are manning a water cooler station. And Fletch—poor Oliver Fletcher—is stuck between Eunice and Loretta, each one with an arm looped through his, making it physically impossible for him to pick up trash. He mouths something like “help me” as we walk by.
