“I hope it’s the break he needs,” Charlie Grace said, her voice even. “I’ve seen a lot of change in him lately. And he does love this town.”
A low current of respect moved through the table. Capri felt it in the slight nod Jake gave, the way Kellen let out a quiet hmm of agreement.
“And me,” Reva said lightly. “Well, I’m going to have the impossible task of finding a new candidate for mayor.”
“Easier said than done,” Capri said, pointing her fork at Reva. “You’re irreplaceable.”
“Absolutely,” Lila added. “We should just retire the office after you leave.”
Reva shook her head, smiling. “Nobody’s irreplaceable. Not even me. City Council will handle the election, and Thunder Mountain will have a new mayor before you know it. The right person will step up. That’s how this works.”
The girls exchanged doubtful looks but said nothing, the truth too heavy to argue with.
Across the table, Kellen reached for Reva’s hand. “We’ve already hired a moving company,” he said, brightening the mood. “Full service. They pack, haul, even unpack if we want.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Jake said. “If you need extra hands, you know where to find us.”
“Same here,” Nick added. “You just say the word.”
Reva’s face softened, the mask of professionalism slipping just enough to show the gratitude underneath. “I don’t know how we’re going to say goodbye,” she admitted. “But knowing everyone is rooting for us...makes it a whole lot easier.”
Capri poured herself another glass of wine. “What about the house?”
Kellen and Reva exchanged glances. “We’re keeping it. For now,” Reva said.
“We both like the idea of having a vacation home in the mountains.” He turned to his wife. “And we are going to take vacations, right?”
Reva grinned and bumped his shoulder with her own. “No doubt I can be talked into visits to Thunder Mountain every summer.”
The table laughed.
Capri felt a swell of something deeper—pride, love, a stubborn kind of hope. She raised her glass, catching Jake’s eye as she did.
“To new adventures,” Capri echoed, her voice sure and steady. “And to knowing Reva and Kellen will always have a place to come back to.”
Glasses clinked.
Then, with a crooked grin, she added, “And, if the world’s going to turn upside down, at least we remembered to bring good food and wine.”
26
Reva adjusted the strap of her purse as she stepped up onto the Nichols’ sagging front porch, the wood creaking under her boots. A faded welcome mat that read Bless This Mess made her smile. Somehow, it felt like the Nichols household had summed up small-town life in three little words.
She rapped her knuckles against the screen door. Inside, the television blared.
After a minute, Gibbs appeared, wrestling a squirming one-year-old perched on his hip. He cracked open the door, flushed and winded. “Hey, Mayor. This is a surprise. Come on in, if you dare.”
“Perhaps I should have called first,” Reva commented. In her haste to deliver news of her decision, she’d skipped her normal manners.
“No, not at all. Come on in.” He waved her inside.
The small house was pure chaos. Toys littered the worn hardwood floor—plastic blocks, stuffed animals, a rubber chicken with one leg missing. The air smelled faintly of vanilla from a candle battling against the scent of last night’s spaghetti. Lizzy, Gibbs’ young wife, shot up from the couch, shoving aside a laundry basket overflowing with onesies and tiny socks.
“Sorry ’bout the mess,” Gibbs said, setting the toddler down. Immediately, the little boy crawled and made a beeline for a toy drum, whacking it with enthusiastic fists.
“Don’t worry,” Reva said, smiling warmly. “I’m not here to judge your housekeeping skills.”
Gibbs grabbed the remote and muted the television. The sudden quiet felt heavy. He motioned for Reva to sit, clearing a toy truck off the armchair. Lizzy hovered nearby, her face a mixture of curiosity and nerves.
