The festival kicked off next week with the Maplewood Tree Lighting Ceremony, and if they planned to come for that, surely we would hear about it soon. But what did I know? Maybe a daily show operated on shorter notice.
When I left to deliver food to a table of four, they were speculating on what events would be the best choice to highlight Maplewood. I returned a few minutes later with a fresh order and added the handwritten slip of paper to the far side of the hanging ticket holder near the grill.
“Do you think they’ll let local businesses try and show off their goods?” The question came from Marta, a middle-aged widow who came in for dinner a couple of times a week.
“Some product placement? Don’t see why not.” Dad scooped a serving of mac and cheese from the batch he’d made earlier.
Hope shone in Marta’s eyes. “I started a little business selling hand-painted signs with encouraging phrases on them. Maybe this will help me sell more.” Her eyes turned downcast. “Mom’s memory care facility is really expensive and painting is how I unwind.”
My heart ached for her. I knew the national spotlight would cause a ruckus around town and for our planning committee, but if it helped people like Marta and Aunt Ingrid, it was worth every ounce of stress. Bo would find a way to plug as many businesses as possible.
“Though some anonymous angel took care of one of her medical bills, which has made an enormous difference.”
“Glad to hear that, Marta.” Dad smiled and turned back to his grill.
There was a network of anonymous donors and do-gooders who had been doing nice things for people around town for as long as I could remember. I hoped to someday figure out who was behind it so I could help out.
By the time I returned to the counter, the conversation had shifted to brainstorming how to get Red’s some airtime when the show came to town. The other locals sitting at the counter chimed in with ideas of getting customers to line Maple Street wearing Team Red’s shirts withRs painted on their cheeks.They talked about reaching out to the rosters of the recreational sports teams we sponsored throughout the year to get people involved.
“You just know Sparky’s is already mobilizing. The Kiwanis Club meets there, and they’ve got a huge roster of volunteers. We need to make sure Red’s is represented so Sparky’s doesn’t get all the spotlight,” said an elder townie who’d been coming to the diner since I was a kid.
Dad turned to me with pride filling his eyes. We shared a moment, and I smiled before turning to make a couple of Mabel’s Mint Chocolate Milkshakes.
“Thank you all. Truly. It means the world to me that you care so much about Red’s and want to show your team spirit.” Dad paused and cleared his throat. He gave his head a shake. “It continues to amaze me how the people in this town support my family’s legacy. I hope it continues when my boy takes over.” Dad cupped the back of my neck and smiled warmly at me.
Dad’s words and the several sets of eyes on me triggered a shiver that raced down my spine. My stomach turned in nauseous swirls when all my brain could think about was how devastated Dad would be if he knew I didn’t want the diner, and how I needed to figure out how to keep my secret.
When did my life become so full of secrets? Secrets all connected to a feud that had lingered for generations, all because two best friends had a falling out last century.
Before Amos came back to town, I’d never been too bothered by the rivalry because it never seemed to directly impact me. I hadn’t known what I was missing all those years that I could’ve been friends with Amos in school, but now I did.
Would Sage and I become enemies like our parents? Or, when Dad retired and Sage took over for Ian and Beth Flynn, would we chart a new path?
I managed a smile for my dad, but all I could think about was Amos and how I felt like I had to hide my feelings for him like a dirty secret.
FIFTEEN
AMOS
Netflix taunted me with the dreadedAre you still watching?
“Yes, Netflix. I’m still watching because I’m bored out of my fucking mind. Stop judging me.” I huffed and directed Netflix to play the next episode of the holiday baking competition show I’d randomly picked.
Sage was out with friends and Mickey was working the dinner shift at Red’s. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d experienced boredom. I’d become used to being so busy with work that I could never slow down enough to get bored.
As I recrossed my legs, my attention wandered to my laptop and the job listings waiting untouched in my various browser tabs. I’d gotten far enough to peruse some prospects but stopped there.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” Was it burnout catching up to me after having worked so hard for so long? Or was I being petulant about getting laid off after having given my entire being to the company for the last decade? Or some sort of third-life crisis where I didn’t want to go back to using my business degree for corporate projects I didn’t care about or enjoy working on?
As I thought about it while contestants freaked out on the TV about the oven not cooking their cake fast enough, I realizedI hadn’t actually processed everything that had happened. I’d gotten laid off, lost my condo, and shuffled back to Maplewood in a matter of weeks. It was probably too much change at once. Was that a thing? Freezing from unwelcome change?
At the time, I’d thought I liked my job. It let me travel and I was good at it.Obviously not good enough for them to keep me. I’d lived in a great part of Boston that was lively with lots to do. Except I’d worked too much to take advantage of most of it.Strike two.
I slumped against the back of the couch. I missed my friends. Didn’t I? Come to think of it, not a single one of them had reached out to me since I’d been laid off. I’d initiated all the contact. Jesus, was I really that naïve? My work friends hadn’t been real friends.
For someone who’d always enjoyed a lively social life with lots of people, I was feeling pretty lonely. Having a full calendar didn’t necessarily mean having friends.
Even as I had the thought, one person’s face popped into my mind. Cosmo was the one person I used to work with who’d stayed in touch with me as much as I had with him. Too bad he’d decided to use his severance to go “find himself and his life’s purpose” out in Oregon.
