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“Son,” Mike started, that condescending fuck, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Main Street isn’t what it used to be. Without more revenue, it’s gonna die anyway.”
“Then maybe our budget needs to be reviewed. There’s money there, it’s just not being used where it should be.”
A hum of approval rolled over the crowd.
“Well, you’re welcome to come to our next budget meeting so you can see that it’s not that simple. Who’re you gonna take money from, the schools? The parks? How about the fire department? Or the police department? You wanna be the one to tell Sheriff Baker he can’t get the equipment he needs?”
“I didn’t say it’d be easy. But there’s a solution that doesn’t involve gutting nearly every business in town.”
Mike broke eye contact to sweep his gaze across the room. “Your opinions are important to us, to Mayor Mitchell, and to this town, and we will do our best to honor them while doing what’s best for Lindenbach.”
I took my seat, unhappy at the dismissal. Mom sat on one side of me, Presley and the Blums on the other, looking worried. Well, except for Jo. She was so mad and wound so tight, a gentle breeze would have set loose a tiger on the whole council.
Shoulda nudged her and enjoyed the carnage. But instead, I listened as the people of the town let their voices be heard. They weren’t all against, either—plenty of people thought it was a ringer and couldn’t connect the dots on how it’d effect the town long term.
It took three hours for the conversation to die, likely from sheer exhaustion rather than a lack of things to say. But we stood. Talked among ourselves. Well, we talked. Jo ranted. Together with a few other business owners, we decided to meet early at Abuelita’s tomorrow to come up with a plan.
The summer sun was still high, even though it was close to dinner, and when we made it outside, we stopped before dispersing, the Blum’s chatting as Mom turned to me.
She touched my arm and tried to smile. “I’m heading to the restaurant to check in, or Mama won’t let me into her hospital room.”
“Can she really stop you with a busted hip?”
She gave me a look. “As long as she has full use of her mouth, she can stop anyone from doing anything. She’s probably extra grumpy knowing she’s going into surgery tomorrow. If I don’t have a full report on the restaurant, I’m gonna be in big trouble.”
“Want me to come with you?”
“Maybe come by the hospital later, but I’ll text you after I see how she’s feeling.”
I nodded. “Are you gonna tell her?”
She heard the unspoken part of that question—about Priscilla. “I think we should wait until after surgery. Presley, do you think Priscilla would like to come meet her Abuelita at the hospital? I don’t want to scare her—we can wait if you think it’s best.”
Presley laughed. “Nothing can scare that child. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
“Then she’ll fit in great with Mama.”
“When do you want to meet her?” Presley asked. I wondered if anyone else would note the uncertainty in her voice or if I just knew her that well.
“As soon as y’all are ready,” Mom answered, barely concealing her joy. “We’ve prayed for this, for her. So you just say the word, Presley.”
“We don’t have anything going on, but you’ve got your hands full. So you tell me.”
“Can we text tomorrow? I have a feeling Mama’s gonna be asleep most of the day, but I won’t know until the last minute. Maybe I can sneak away for a little bit.”
“Of course.”
Mom nodded. I thought she was going to say goodbye, but instead, she launched herself at Presley to wrap her up in a hug.
“I’m just so happy. Thank you for giving us a dream we didn’t believe we’d ever see come true.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” she said softly.
“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” With a final squeeze, Mom let her go. She sniffled and pressed her finger to the corner of her eye. “Okay, y’all go. I’ll text you later, Bastian. Bye, girls.” She twiddled her fingers at the Blums, who waved back.
Everybody had those schmoopy looks on their faces. I probably had one on too and didn’t know it.
Presley smiled up at me.
“Wanna get out of here?” I asked.
“I really do.”
“Is Priscilla okay with your mom? I want to take you somewhere.”
“She prefers Mom to me. Nonnies are lawless creatures with a never-ending supply of sweets. Trust me, she’s good. So where to?”
I took her hand. “Come on, and I’ll show you.”
When we started for my truck, she waved over her shoulder at her cousins. A cursory glance back revealed that their schmoopy faces had devolved into salacious ones.
“Don’t mind us,” Poppy sang. “You two have a good time now, you hear?”
