“With women?”
“With life.”
That makes me smile. We stand there for a moment longer before Everett gestures toward the stack of chairs.
“So,” he says lightly. “Should we put these by the food tables?”
I exhale slowly.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
Sometimes the best thing someone can do after a heavy conversation is let the moment breathe. And Everett does exactly that.
16
Everett
It’s early morning, the day of the fundraiser. Standing in the center of the theater, looking at everything I have accomplished up to now, I notice the room is quiet in anticipation of the big event. String lights stretch across the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the freshly cleaned floors.
When I first walked into this place, it felt like a gamble. An old building with peeling paint, worn carpets, and more problems than solutions. But something about it stuck with me from the moment I stepped inside.
Back then, I couldn’t explain it. Now I can.
This theater wasn’t just a project. It wasn’t just a business venture or a way to prove to myself that leaving Lavender Creek all those years ago hadn’t been a mistake.
It is my future.
Not just the building itself, the late nights spent planning renovations, the endless lists of things that still needed fixing, or the risk of putting everything I had into something uncertain.
It was what the theater could become.
I imagined the seats filled with families on Friday nights, kids laughing during their first movie on the big screen. Teenagers sitting in the back row pretending they weren’t holding hands. Couples coming here on first dates, sharing popcorn and nervous smiles in the dim glow of the screen.
For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel like something I had to chase. It felt like something I was building.
Main Street is full of the sound of kids laughing and music playing. The Flowerpot Café has set up a small stand outside. Violet is bustling around with her usual energy, handing out pastries and greeting neighbors. The scent of fresh popcorn has mingled with cotton candy, the faint aroma of Violet’s pastries, and a hint of hay from the petting zoo set up in the back corner of the square.
As I am looking around, I see two figures walking slowly toward the fundraiser.
Mom and Dad.
Mom spots me first, her face lights up instantly, the same way it always had when I was a kid running in from the fields after a long day.
Dad is looking around, taking everything in. The food trucks, the kids running around with cotton candy, the music drifting throughout the square, the petting zoo, and finally the theater standing behind me.
I wipe my hands on my jeans and walk toward them.
“Thanks for coming, guys. It’s a great turnout so far,” I say.
Mom steps forward and wraps me up in a hug. “Oh, honey, look at all of this, it’s amazing.”
I laugh quietly, pulling back. She keeps her hands on my shoulders as she glances around again.
“I didn’t know what I was expecting, but this is beyond my expectations. All those long hours you and Violet have put in have paid off,” she says.
Dad is still examining the fundraiser. Finally, his gaze settles on me. “You put this all together?” he asks.
I shrug slightly. “Not alone, Violet helped a lot, the local businesses put together some booths and items for the silent auction. It was a joint effort,” I reply.
