“Remember the guy who tried to keep a raccoon as a pet?” asks Rose. “Now that was some stupid shit.”
“Oh my gosh, yes,” says Molly. “His aura was so green. Such a nature lover. But maybe not always making the best choices. Didn’t he also try to hug a bear?”
“Yeah. When he was high once,” confirms Rose.
“And we as a community chose not to judge him.” Molly sighs. “Well…I mean, not much. He was the main topic of conversation for a while there. In the bar and the bakery, the diner and the coffee shop. There was also a heated debate about him one time in the laundromat. My point here is—we didn’t try to run him out of town.”
“How about the swingers club they used to have in the eighties?” asks Isa with a smile. “There are people here who have done things. This isn’t the first scandal we’ve survived.”
Carmen nods. “And they weren’t asked to leave town either. Used to hold it after the weekly bowling tournament. Mom would joke it was the only way they could tell whose clothes belonged to who. Because their names were on the shirts.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” says Bernie piously. “It sounds positively shocking.”
“She doth protest too much,” whispers Nash.
And I choke down a laugh. This is serious business after all.
“You wouldn’t believe how much money me and my friends made babysitting those nights,” says a lady from the local grocery store. And various people smile and laugh, which has to be a positive sign. “We got together, unionized, and charged them premium rates.”
“My favorite one is the guy who kept getting himself arrested back in the seventies because he enjoyed the sheriff’s wife’s cooking so much,” says Wade.
“That was my grandaddy,” shouts someone nearby.
“Didn’t they wind up running off to Florida together?” asks Rose. “Him and the sheriff’s wife?”
Molly grins. “He was alsomygrandpa, and they certainly did. Not that Grandma minded. She moved in with the widow of the funeral home director from the next town over and lived her best life.”
“They were very happy together,” says Bernadette. “My second husband was buried by Veronica and Shirley.”
Then some white man gets to his feet. “Are we going to talk about the proposed data center build on the edge of town?”
“Fuck you and your data center, Phil. We need our water, not your AI slop,” says Molly, to a robust round of applause. “Now to ease us gently back into what we were discussing. So June and Nash lied to each and every one of us. Told us a tangled web of falsehoods about who they were and made us believe deep in our hearts that they were our new true and beloved friends.”
“It actually sounds way worse when you put it that way,” says Carmen.
“I’m just trying to be honest and present a balanced point of view.” Molly smiles benevolently at the crowd. “We thought that they were bright and kindred spirits here to join our community. And I know we welcomed them with open arms and cherished them against our bosom.”
“Not my bosom,” says Bernadette with great conviction.
“The betrayal cuts, I know. And we need to leave space for those feelings. But I would ask, who here among us has never told a lie?”
Father Frank puts up his hand.
This emergency town meeting feels a lot like being put on trial. There’s a good chance we should have stayed away. Far away.
Which is when the young barista gets to his feet. “So does this mean June’s single or what?”
“No, she is not,” shouts Nash. “Sit your ass back down, you clown.”
“Oh,” says Mayor Molly in surprise. “You’re here.”
And every head in the hall turns toward us. Their expressions run the gamut from bored to hurt. And the way my conscience kicks in is no joke.
Sabrina stares at us for a moment and then says, “You just really disappointed me. I don’t know what else to say.”
“I thought we were friends,” says Carter, to the man at my side.
Nash frowns. “Wearefriends.”
