“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I do, I just hope I do the theater and town justice. Maybe I took on too much.”
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself,” I tell him. “You have a vision and the ideas you have, the work you’ve already done, it’s great. You just have to have the confidence in yourself that I have in you.”
“I can be hard on myself, you’re right. I need to trust my gut and keep pushing through.” He glances around again. “Some things I want to keep, though.” He gestures toward the old ticket booth. “That stays, and the original marquee. I want it to feel modern, but still like the old theater everyone remembers.”
I nod. “I like that.”
“So,” he says. “The fundraiser.”
We spend the next half hour tossing ideas back and forth.
A movie marathon, games for kids, live music.
“And the petting zoo,” I remind him.
Everett laughs. “You’re really excited about that.”
“Who wouldn’t be?” I ask, laughing.
“Maple Meadow Farm is bringing the animals, I have confirmed that. Goats, lambs, chickens, miniature ponies, even the donkeys if they behave,” he confirms.
“That will be so much fun,” I say.
“I have started asking some business owners if they would like to participate in the silent auction, and so far we have four stores. The Hardware Store, The General Store, The Diner, and of course, my café!” I tell him
“That’s awesome!” Everett replies. “Thanks for doing that.”
There is an easy rhythm to the conversation. Like we have known how to talk to each other our whole lives.
The conversation slows. And I glance at him.
“So,” I say carefully. “How are things with your family?”
He looks a little surprised by the question. But he doesn’t avoid it.
“Better,” he says. “Still complicated though.” He shrugs. “Henry helps.”
I smile. “Henry seems great.”
“Yeah, he is,” Everett says.
He changes the subject, and I don’t push. “You know, us working together, I think it might work out.”
“Lily will be happy to hear that, she loves being right,” I say.
He laughs. “Good thing she was right about this.”
I smile and look around the theater, at the dust, the peeling paint. The potential hiding underneath all of it. I’m not just thinking about the theater, but also the potential of this growing into something more than a friendship.
“You’re going to make this place amazing,” I say.
Everet looks at me for a moment. And something soft settles in his expression.
“I hope so,” he says.
For a second, the world feels very small. Just the two of us standing in a quiet theater.
Then Everett checks his watch.
