One game of Ping-Pong turned into two when Ben beat Sammy and Sammy immediately challenged him to a rematch. When Ben got up on him by five points, Sammy laughed and surrendered. He handed his paddle over to Tiago, who was waiting for a turn.
Vivien walked over to him, her arm around Boone. Boone kissed the top of her head. “I’m going to go grab us a Coke,” he said. “Sam, do you want one?” Sammy shook his head.
“Everyone’s having a great time,” Sammy said after Boone left. “This was unnecessary, but thank you for doing it.”
“You deserve it,” she said. “Everyone wants to celebrate you. I think you underestimate how much this town relies on you.”
“You’ve got that backward. I rely on them.” Sammy stood taller.
“Boone tells me you helped out on the snowplow after last week’s storm.”
“He told you right.” Sammy’s white-knuckled driving had soon turned to a loose-gripped enjoyment as he remembered why he loved being in the cab of a snowplow so much. High above the street, white snow draped over all the winter grime, helping his neighbors—it just felt right.
“I’m glad to hear you’re claiming your life back.”
“Just trying to move forward in courage and not in fear.”
Vivien gestured to the groups of young people all around the room. “The kids obviously love you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” Sammy smiled at Tiago, who was jumping up and down and cheering. The kid must have beaten Ben at Ping-Pong.
“That other grant came in for paying your position for the next few years. There won’t be much left over for extras though.” Vivien tossed her black ponytail over her shoulder. “I’m sorry that we’re starting you on such a shoestring budget.”
“About that. I have some ideas to bring to the next board meeting.” He had to restrain himself from word-vomiting all his ideas at her right now. “Some fundraisers I think could bring in enough money to buy matching furniture. The kind that can take a licking and not disintegrate.”
“Sounds good. I’ll set it up.” Sammy had agreed to be the youth center director on the condition that Vivien continue to be chairman of the board.
Boone came back carrying two cans of Coke and handed one to Vivien. When their fingers brushed, Vivien smiled up into Boone’s eyes. The love between them almost sizzled. They walked away, Boone’s arm wrapped around Vivien’s waist.
Sammy felt a pull in his gut. Envy, or something close to it. If he closed his eyes, he could almost smell the shampoo Robin used. Just because he’d decided to step aside and let her pursue her own path didn’t mean it would be easy to let her go.
Near the front of the room, Peter Dahlquist rapped on the food table, getting everyone’s attention.
“I’d like to propose a toast,” he said. “Sammy, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been selfless. From your time as a linebacker on the football field to your recent days serving this town. I’m glad we can all be here tonight to celebrate you and to wish you well in your new endeavor. To Sammy!” Peter raised his can of soda and took a long swallow.
“To Sammy!” rang out from around the room.
He felt his face warm. A tingling, electric sensation started in his chest and spread to his whole torso.
“Speech!” Seth called out. Soon the whole room called for a speech.
Sammy made his way to the food table. He hadn’t eaten yet, but he would have to check out his options once this speech was over. “You all know me,” he said. “And you know I’m a guy of few words.”
“Since when?” someone near the back of the room called out. A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd.
“Okay, so I’m a guy of lots of words, but not profound ones.” His eye caught on an item displayed at the end of the table. Was that a cake or just another pan of bars? He edged nearer to it. “Some of you know that at the beginning of this year, I was at a crossroads.” His attention split between what he was saying and the cake, he almost missed the flash of an auburn head ducking through the gathered crowd. Was that—Could Robin really be here? His heart rate picked up as he attempted to focus on his speech. “My legs are fully healed, and I started itching for more than being a courier and handyman.”
“You’ll still come and help me paint my front room, though, won’t you?” Edith Draper hollered from her place in the front of the group.
“Anything for you, Edith. You’re my number one customer.” The party chuckled in appreciation. He must have imagined the familiar curly hair. Rats. He was probably just willing it into life. “After talking to some of you, and hearing some hard truths, I came to realize that I could never leave Deep Haven. This place means too much to me. Anyway, thank you for this party, and thank you for your support now and always.”
The crowd erupted in cheers. Sammy’s face heated, and he quickly turned and reached for a plate. After piling it high with a ham sandwich, chips, pickles, and Jell-O salad, he made his way toward the cake.
The two-tier confection was ringed with red, orange, and blue-green illustrations. A fox chased a peacock, an agate swirled near a tiny bakery, a pair of bicycles rested together alongside a lake. He took a slice and then swiped a piece of frosting. A hint of almond lingered on his tongue.
His breath caught. There was only one person who would have baked this. He set down his plate and scanned the room. There! Another flash of auburn hair almost to the door.
“Robin!”
