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“I guess,” she says. Then hesitates. “I told a friend at school that he was my brother. She didn’t believe me.”
“That’s a funny thing about famous people. Lots of people think they know them. But they don’t believe anyone actually does.”
I carefully maneuver down Oak Grove’s main street, then successfully manage to parallel park in front of a bank. “So…cowboy boots?”
Bailey nods eagerly.
And thankfully, that’s one item of clothing that Oak Grove stocks plenty of. The first store we step into has them in stock. So does the second. And the third. That’s where Bailey finds a pink pair that she loves enough to wear out of the store, her sneakers tucked in the square box that she carries around as we continue exploring the small town. It’s a little larger than I realized, the main downtown section stretching almost four blocks. The trips to Wagon Wheel and the fair were both at night. Plus, I was distracted by Kyle.
The last store we go into contains a surprise.
“Piper!”
“Julia! Hi!”
I’m slow to return the hug, caught off guard by the exuberant greeting. By the realization Iknow someoneto run into here.
“I wish we’d had more time to hang out last night,” Julia says. “But you had fun, right?”
“Yeah, I did.” I know she’s talking about the fair, but I’m not. “I didn’t know you had a store.”
“My aunt’s technically, but I work here some days. Most days. Are you guys looking for anything in particular?”
“We were looking for cowboy boots, but we already found some.” I nod toward Bailey’s feet.
Julia’s eyes widen. “Wow.Lovethose.”
Bailey beams, and I smile too.
“Bailey, this is Julia. Julia, Bailey.”
Julia’s smile tightens a little, the subtle shift letting me know the name is familiar. And reminding me this town is a small one.
I’m not entirely clear on the dynamics among Kyle’s group of friends, but I know they all grew up here. All attended elementary school and high school together.
I’m guessing Julia knows just as much of the story about Kyle’s family as I do now, if not more.
“Nice to meet you, Bailey.”
“Well, we should get goin—”
“You know what you need?” Julia asks me.
I hesitate. “What?”
Julia’s grin grows. “Cowboy boots.”
* * *
Spareribs, beef brisket, pulled pork, country-roasted chicken.
Based on my first scan of the menu at Acre 85, my only option for lunch is the simple salad with vinaigrette. Even that comes with a grilled chicken breast I’ll have to request be left off.
“Do you know what you want?” I ask Bailey, taking the opportunity to scan the half-empty restaurant.
The interior is nicer than I expected. A mix of metal and distressed wood that’s both industrial and cozy. Picnic tables serve as the seating.
No sign of Kyle.
