Cade opened the door and was immediately welcomed with a rush of cold air, the aroma of freshly baked peach pie…and roughly fifty people screaming “Surprise!” in his face.
He reeled back a step and blinked, taking in the smiling faces of his parents, Mama D, Mr. and Mrs. Dupree, Miley, and Pastor Dubois. He turned, and there was Sawyer and Owen. Sadie and Mrs. Peters and Harper. And Noah, Elisa, her father Isaac, and Linc—well,hewasn’t smiling. But he was standing next to Zoey, who was beaming enough for them both.
Cade moved slightly farther into the room. “Um, yes. I’m surprised.” It wasn’t anywhere near his birthday. And the red, white, and blue streamers hanging from the ceiling and the American flag printed centerpieces were most certainly not birthday-related decor.
“He doesn’t see it.” Delia, wearing a sleeveless blue dress and giant red earrings, pursed her lips.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” Madame Paulette stepped to the front counter, her red scarves trailing behind her. “Look up, dear.” She rolled her eyes as she stage-whispered to Elisa. “It’s a good thing he’s so cute, huh?”
Cade looked up at the banner hanging over the barstools and the dessert display, his smile dissipating. The festive red, white, and blueHappy Campaign Partywording had been edited with a black marker, to now readHappy Un-Campaign Party.
“We’re firing you,” Madame Paulette loudly announced, as if the sentiment weren’t plenty self-explanatory enough. The diner full of people began clapping and cheering.
Well, this was a twist. He was being rejected before he could fail.
“Oh no. Look at his face.” Madame pressed her fingers against her cheeks, her heavily made-up eyes growing wide. “Someone, quick. Make him understand.”
Delia stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her chest. For the first time since her surgery, she didn’t hold a cane. “We’re firing you because we love you.”
Feeling slowly returned to Cade’s knees. He opened his mouth, then shut it, unsure how to process.
Delia came closer, wrapping her hand around Cade’s arm. Her gray head barely came to his shoulder as she smiled up at him. “We all think you’re a great town director and we don’t want to lose you in that role. So if you run, we all agreed we wouldn’t vote for you. It’s not the right fit.”
Ouch.
“We want the best for you.” She squeezed his arm. “Because we know you want the best for our town.”
“You do?” He looked around at the smiling, hopeful faces around him. They all contained zero judgment.
This wasn’t an insult. It was…a gift.
He hesitated. It was also his out, if he wanted it. He could accept their decision and save a bit of face—or be honest and say what he originally came to say.
“You’re right, Mama D. It’s not a great fit.” Cade swallowed. “I actually came here today to tell you all that I’m withdrawing from the race.” From the crowd, his father met his gaze. Pride lingered in his eyes.
“Oh, wonderful.” Delia slapped Cade’s shoulder. “Then tell us already!”
“Yeah.Speech.Speech.” Noah started the chanting, which was quickly picked up by Zoey and Elisa. The rest of the town followed.
“Okay, okay.” Cade grinned and held up both hands, looking for a place to stand where everyone could hear him.
Elisa dragged a barstool away from the counter and situated it near the windows, facing the crowd. “Here’s your stage. I don’t have a microphone, sorry.”
“Don’t worry. Cade’s never had a problem running his mouth,” Linc ribbed. Zoey elbowed him in the side.
Cade propped on the edge of the high stool, resting one foot on the bottom bar. He looked out at some of his favorite people in town as they all stared back. At least his facial bruising had mostly resided, the hairline fracture healing straight. “Despite Linc’s confidence endorsement there, this is actually a little intimidating.”
Everyone chuckled.
Cade drew a deep breath. “Like I said, I came here today to withdraw from the race. And while I knew it was the right decision, it still felt like failing.”
He blew out his breath as he faced his beloved town. “I owe you all an apology.”
Faces crinkled in confusion. He wished he had a microphone, something to do with his hands. “Several of you tried to help me with Magnolia Days, and I rejected your efforts because I was trying to do everything myself.”
Murmurs sounded around the room.
“I’m starting to realize that I need to be needed. And ifyou’rehelpingme, then I’m not needed.” He hesitated. “And somehow in my brain, that meant I wasn’t wanted.”
