The second thing I notice is the smell.
Oh my God. Barbecue. Real barbecue.
Huge trays hold hamburgers, hot dogs, and piles of pulled pork. There are bowls of toppings and fixings everywhere.
Potato salad.
Baked beans.
Coleslaw.
Potato chips.
Pickles.
Onions.
Tomatoes.
And in the middle of it all sits a giant crock of what I already know must be Evelyn Storm’s famous secret barbecue sauce.
“Let’s grab a table before they’re all gone,” Seth says.
We manage to claim one near the front before every available seat disappears.
Deciding to let the line die down a bit, I wander toward the beverage station.
The moment I get close, a familiar voice booms, “Well, if it isn’t my favorite future doctor!”
I laugh. “Imma Jean!”
She sweeps me into a hug before I can even set down the tray I’m carrying.
Imma Jean Ryse owns the Ryse & Shine Café in downtown Wildhaven. Cabe and I spent every afternoon after school at her counter, doing our homework and scoffing down her famous cinnamon rolls.
I squeeze her back. She smells like vanilla, cinnamon, and joy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without a smile on her face.
“Look at you!” she declares. “All grown up. Just yesterday, you were a little pigtailed pixie.”
“You say that every time you see me.”
“Because every time I see you, you’ve somehow grown up more.”
I grin.
When she’s back behind the table, she fills mason jars with ice and drinks.
“What can I get you? Water, lemonade, or sweet tea?” she asks.
The holy trinity of summer beverages.
“Tea, please,” I answer as another familiar voice sounds behind me.
“There’s my Jojo.”
I turn just in time for Irene Trust to wrap me in a hug.
“Hi, Momma Trust!”
