“Nope, I think we’re all set here.”Glenn bolted from the room, his face the color of a plum.
Oh my God, Ivy mouthed from her chair as she got up.
I ended the call and sat there staring at the black screen, which was also ironically a representation of my soul at that moment.I closed my eyes.
Welcome home.
15
AUSTIN
Sam was already waiting outside the community center when I pulled up.The parking lot was packed with golf carts, not a single inch of pavement left.
“Wow, people are really serious about this, huh?”she said as I walked up.
“Very.”
We tiptoed in and slid into two chairs in the back.
“Are we late?”she whispered.
“No, these things go for hours.People come and go the whole time.”
The meeting was already in full swing and it was only 3:04 p.m.At the front of the room, a wobbly folding table held the weight of local democracy with Bob, the board president, half listening, and Donna, the board secretary, furiously scribbling notes.The twenty white plastic chairs lined up facing the table were mostly filled.A wiry man in a faded Tommy Bahama shirt was already standing, mid-rant when we walked in.
“It’s July, Bob.Christmas lights shouldn’t be allowed to still be hanging inJuly.”
“Your Honor,” a woman across the room piped up, her Christmas lightbulb earrings jingling as she spoke.“They’re festive.Andthey’re not on Ricky’s property.So this entire conversation is irrelevant.”
“You don’t have to call meYour Honor, Rita,” Bob muttered, like it was the hundredth time he had told her.
“The lights are distracting,” Ricky fired back.
“They’re joyful.”
“It looks like a disco in my house, Bob.”
“Can’t you just close your blinds?”he asked exasperated.
“I shouldn’t have to close my blinds.That’s the point!”Ricky’s arms flailed.“It’s my house.I should be able to leave the blinds open without it turning into Studio 54 in there.”
Rita smirked.“What’s wrong with Studio 54?That was one of the greatest eras of all time.”
“If I wanted Studio 54, I’d turn on my TV.Or, I’d set foot in your house where I’m sure I’d find aplethoraof Lycra and spandex.”
Sam giggled beside me.“Is it always this entertaining?”
“Only if you’re lucky,” I whispered back, trying to contain myself.
She kept her voice low.“What does Ricky do?”
“He runs the general store on the island.Ironically, he probably sold Rita the Christmas lights he’s mad about.”
Bob rubbed his temples, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.“Rita, it’s seven months past Christmas.”
“Technically, it’s only five monthsuntilChristmas,” she corrected with a grin.
“Maybe you could at least get rid of the reindeer,” Bob suggested.
