“Back to the issue at hand,” Laurel interrupted. “Without the volunteers, we don’t really have enough people.”
“What about the shop owners?” I asked. “There must be plenty of people.”
Gladys shook her head. “They’re our vendors.”
“I’m still thinking we should pursue legal action.”
Everybody shot Sheryl a dirty look. She folded her arms across her chest and sat back, defeated. It seemed the small-town environment that made Firefly special would also be the biggest issue. It was hard to run a labor-intensive event when the laborers were the very people you wanted enjoying it. We had reached a chicken and egg situation.
“What do we do?” Laurel asked. “Maybe we should cancel?”
Harvey and Walter paced back and forth, their steps in time. Gladys studied her clipboard as if the answer might magically appear. I have to admit, while I had been reluctant to join this ragtag committee, it had been fun watching them get excited about the carnival.
I had hidden the success of the calendar from everybody, biding my time until the carnival. Underneath the fireworks, I’d casually lean over, kissing Tyler, reliving the moment that shook both our worlds. Except, this time, I’d pull back and say the number as if it meant nothing. When he raised an eyebrow, I’d say Firefly had done what it does best: protect its own. We’d hug, then kiss, and then I’d make a comment about going back to his place. Then we’d finally have sex… in a bed.
“It’s not canceled.” I spoke without room for debate. “We’re not canceling the fireworks.”
Walter raised an eyebrow. “The carnival, you mean?”
“Yeah. The carnival.” Without a carnival, I wouldn’t have fireworks. Did they not understand that my grand gesture depended on booming lights in the sky? “I’ll find volunteers.”
“Who?” asked Sheryl.
“I know people.” Don’t question me, Sheryl. “Consider it a done deal.” Could Jason, Amanda, and Evie run everything? My list of friends in Firefly wasn’t lengthy. Maybe I could speak with somebody in Merryville? It didn’t matter,somehowI would find people. I had a week to make it happen.
Laurel leaned close, whispering in my ear. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. If I spoke, she’d detect the uncertainty in my voice. Right now, I needed them to believe I had resources. If we could come together and save a library, I’d harness Firefly’s magic and provide a team of carnies ready to make it the best carnival of all time.
“Okay, then.” Gladys cleared her throat. “With that settled, we need to discuss ticket distribution locations. We can’t have a repeat of when Connie got trapped in the porta potty.”
While they went through the logistics, I pulled out my phone and went through my contacts. I had the numbers of co-workers at the publisher, ex-boyfriends I refused to delete, and… wow, I didn’t have very many people in my phone book. As of late, all my texts had been from the bears in Firefly, Amanda, and Evie. Oh, and a single text message with Tessa holding a newspaper that ran a photo of Chris in the buff. I saved that photo for blackmail later.
Yes, I had some selfish reasons behind my want…needfor the carnival. Of all the ways to reveal the success of the calendar, it made perfect sense. I had watched enough romcoms to know it needed to be over the top. Though… it wasn’t all about saving Tyler’s job.
I had squishier reasons.
As they feverishly debated a ticket person near the gazebo or by the water fountain, I had more reasons than myself. Since I arrived, every person in this room had revealed some aspect of Mimi I hadn’t known. Withoutknowing me, they supplied food, checking in to see if Evie and I needed help cleaning her house. We might be flatlanders, but they had adopted us as one of their own. By choice or by force, I had become part of the Firefly community.
I’d make this happen.
Jon: Red alert.
Amanda: You only get one.
Jason: Those are the rules.
Jon: I’m serious, I need another rally moment.
Amanda: Fine. I’ll save your butt again.
Jon: Spectrum Thursday?
Jason: It’s a date.
Amanda: Can Tessa come?
Jason: No.
