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And I started to read.
It was pretty funny. Pete got some new kicks, but they kept getting messed up and turned to different colors. There was a little song he sang when his shoes changed colors, but the first time I sang it, Priscilla put her hand in the seam of the book and told me I was doing it wrong.
Once corrected, we continued.
At one point, I glanced up to find Presley with a look on her face, the look girls got when they saw a puppy. Feeling more eyes on me, I looked toward the window to see all the Blum women and Presley’s mom wearing the same expression as I tried not to laugh. The voyeurs scattered on getting caught.
When the book was finished, she slapped it closed, proclaiming, “The end! Now I read to you.”
For a minute, I listened to her retelling the story on memory, since she couldn’t read, but I had to admit, her rendition was better.
Pete’s shoes were red when the Blum sisters burst into the courtyard with red faces. Poppy’s phone was in her hand.
Presley frowned. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m real sorry to interrupt,” Poppy started, but nibbled her lip, eyeing Priscilla. “Can I borrow you two for a second? Inside?”
Presley frowned. “Poppy, this isn’t really a good time—”
“I know. It’s important.”
Now I was frowning too. “What happened?”
“Mayor Mitchell is trying to bring a Goody’s to town,” Jo answered darkly.
“What?” I shot. “Goody’s? There’s no way this town would let those big-box thieves ruin Main Street.”
Daisy shook her head. “Mitchell’s already agreed to it. There’s a town hall meeting in a couple hours.”
My mind reeled. Goody’s would decimate this town. Blankeship’s hardware store had been in business nearly a hundred years. Mariel’s grocery store would go under, and what would Mariel’s great grandchildren do? And that was just the beginning. We’d lose a dozen businesses within half a year.
I could already hear Mitchell spouting the same old bullshit everybody gave for letting Goody’s into their towns. It would create jobs! It would bring more affordable goods to town! But what Mitchell was looking for was the revenue. He wanted the tax money, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gotten a kickback on the handshake and hat tip.
A Stetson-wearing, pressed-Wrangler Mitchell male had been the mayor of this town for seventy years, the legacy passed down from one son to the next for seven decades. Sure, there were elections. But the Mitchell family was too powerful and had made too much money off Lindenbach to ever be beaten in an election. They were genetically predisposed to entitlement, and I should know.
I married his daughter. Which was where that legacy might end.
And good riddance, if he was going to put us all in the ground by opening the door for Goody’s.
“What are we gonna do?” Daisy asked no one.
“We’re gonna fight,” I said without hesitation.
And we put our heads together to figure out how.
10
Kiss Me Quick
SEBASTIAN
Town hall was filled with unintelligible, angry voices.
Mine was one of them.
Mike Stoffel, council head, pounded his gavel block, his face red and the vein in his forehead so pronounced, they could see it pulsing all the way in the back.
“Quiet! I’ll have order, or we will adjourn this meeting right now.”
That was enough to quiet it down to a murmur. Slowly, we took our seats.
“Now, I understand many of you have things to say, and we’ll get to you when we can, but it will be in an orderly fashion. Chad, if you’ll continue.”
Chad Kuster adjusted his glasses and leaned into his mic. “I’ll ask y’all to give this a chance. Not only would bringing Goody’s here create hundreds of jobs through construction and opening, but it’ll bring folks from other smaller towns to Lindenbach to shop. Goody’s will be contributing to the community through various projects, not to mention the tax revenue we’ll be able to put back into the town. This is a good thing, not a bad one. And then there’s the selection and low prices—”
“They’ll put us under, and you know it,” Brian Buchanan, who ran our sporting goods store, shouted.
Chad gave Brian a look. “Come on now, Buchanan. Let’s not be dramatic.”
“Nobody’s gonna pay my prices when you get discounts that deep somewhere else. I can’t compete with that store’s buying power. And if you call me dramatic again, I’m coming up there and—”
Rich Harris, the pharmacist, saved Brian by interrupting. “He’s not wrong. They’ll undercut every single one of us and turn Main Street into a ghost town. Is that really what you want?”
Chad pulled off his glasses. “With the tax revenue, we can put the money right back into Main Street.”
“Except there won’t be anybody there to enjoy it,” Rich added.
I stood, my eyes narrowed at the row of Mitchell’s toadies. “Y’all have seen this happen to towns all over the country—shopping malls and big box stores come through, and in ten years, there’s no one left to shop there either. Main Street is the heart of this town, and bringing Goody’s into our city will put a stake in it.”
