“Who said you’re special?” I ask, my lips smiling around the straw in my mouth. I sip my grapefruit juice and soda water.
Julia laughs and Anthony snorts.
“Who’s theother man?” Julia asks me.
I roll my eyes. “His name is Walt, and he’s eighty-two years old. He’s kind of like a prickly pear cactus. His needles hurt, but he grows sweet fruit.”
Three bewildered faces turn to me.
“Come on!” My hands fly through the air in front of my face. “Don’t tell me you have no idea what a flipping prickly pear cactus is.”
“Coming up empty, Brynn.” Julia’s trying not to laugh.
“Ugh.” I cross my arms. “You higher elevation snots.”
Connor laughs into a fisted hand, his shoulders shaking. “We’re snots? You’re the one fromSnottsdale.”
“Correction.” I hold up one finger. “I had a Phoenix zip code.” Maybe another time I’ll tell him I grew up in Scottsdale, a suburb of Phoenix, and the nickname is totally undeserved. Mostly, anyway. Well, maybe it is a little. Ok, fine, it’s deserved.
I jostle my shoulder against Connor’s. “How did that nickname make it’s way all the way up to the pines?”
“It took a left at the prickly pear cactus and went due north.” Anthony is laughing so hard while he’s talking the words barely come out. Everybody understands him anyhow, and Julia laughs until she has tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Anyway,” I say loudly, reaching my hand into the bowl of pretzels and tossing some at Anthony. They bounce off his forearms and onto the floor.
Connor and Anthony start talking about the car he’s repairing this week. Julia is kind, funny, and easy to be around. Despite this, I’m wary. I can talk to her all day about basic subjects, pop culture, and common knowledge, but I’m not sure how to go past that. I’ve been burned at the stake by people I considered friends.
“So,” Julia begins. “What brought you to Brighton?”
“Change of scenery,” I say, gesturing outside. “Summer is better up here.”
“Will you go back to Phoenix for winter?”
I steal a glance at Connor. He’s talking fast and punching the air. I guess they’ve moved on from the car repair. Turning back to Julia, I say, “Probably not.”
She winks. “He’s quite a catch, right? Snatch him up now. I know a lot of ladies in my office who would love to know how this guy hasn’t been on their radar.”
“Tell me about your work,” I say.Good Lord, I want to change the subject.
“I work in the mayor’s office. Right now I’m in charge of planning the first annual Independence Day Parade.”
This is something that should be exciting, but Julia isn’t smiling.
“Uh huh. Okay.” I nod my head, encouraging her to say more. She doesn’t say anything, so I ask, “What’s the problem?”
“I don’t think anybody even knows the parade is happening. I’ve been working on it for months, planning and getting communities, programs, and businesses signed up to make floats. But when I ask people around town if they’re coming to the parade, they look like they’ve never heard of it.” She sighs, and it’s such a crestfallen sound it’s like I can hear her spirit sinking.
“This event is for everyone, yes?”
Her eyes are interested and confused. “Yes.”
“And your goal is to increase attendance?”
She shrugs. “I guess so.”
“What have you done to market it?”
“It’s on the home screen of the city’s webpage. Next week we’ll hang a banner from the street lights where Main Street begins.”
