I hated Alex Olsen that night, too. And for a long time after that.
I still wouldn’t be a fan if he weren’t the answer to all my problems.
“And you forgive him?” I ask Ruth. I raise my voice slightly. I’m standing with the swinging door propped open so the whole café can hear me. I’d hate for anyone to strain something trying to eavesdrop.
“For sure!” she says exuberantly.
“That’s great.” I give her a smile. “I’m proud of you.” I want them all to hear this. Everyone in here is a regular. No doubt some of those dollar bills in the Alex Olsen jar are theirs. They also need to spread the word to those who aren’t here.
I turn to address the whole café. As expected, everyone is watching and listening. “Alex is new to town, new to small-town life. He told me he was really sorry about how he treated Harley and Ruth, and I believe him. We need to give him a chance.” I get heads nodding in unison, and I give them a big smile. “Thank you.”
Then I lower my voice and say to Bruce, “We need the hockey team to do well for the election.”
Bruce’s shoulders slump slightly. “I know.”
Bruce doesn’t want Harley to run again. He thinks Harley should retire. But Harley doesn’t want to end his tenure on the heels of the stroke. He doesn’t want that to be the reason. He wants to prove that he can still do the job and then go out on top. On his own terms. Not because his body gave out and betrayed him.
I’m going to do whatever I can to make that happen for him.
“We need the team to be successful, so everyone sees that Harley’s idea for hockey in Rebel was a great idea and he’s still able to lead,” I reiterate. I know Ruth, Thea, Everly, and Andi are all still listening. They’re part of our inner circle and definitely need to be on board.
“But this new hockey thing is your idea, sweetheart,” Bruce says.
“No.” I shake my head. “Harley’s helped with it a ton.”
Bruce gives me an affectionate smile. “Yes, he has. A lot of people have. But it wasyouridea to make it something new and fresh.”
I wave my hand. “It doesn’t matter whose idea is whose. We’ve all worked on it, and Harley has been integral.”
Bruce’s look is I’m-not-buying-it, but he nods. “Whatever you say.”
Okay, fine—the overall idea of making hockey more fun, more participatory for those watching, and more of an event than just a game was mine. But I’ve had help with the details for sure. I didn’t know the rules well enough to know how to bend and twist them. I didn’t know what was possible and what wasn’t until I got Harley involved. And Ruth. And Leo. And Astrid Olsen.
“We just have to beat Sean Patrick,” I insist. “Whatever it takes. We can’t let the newbies take over.”
Sean Patrick isn’tnewto Rebel. He grew up here. Graduated from school here. His parents and grandparents still live here. But he left. For nine years. Didn’t come home for anything other than holidays and even missed a few of those.
Now he’s back. But he’s part of the new part of town. The north part of town where the chain stores, and restaurants, and hotels are going in. Where they’re building new apartments. Where there’s a fancy coffee shop and two new bars that compete with Perks and Rec.
The ‘newbies’ are the people who have moved to Rebel and have expanded the town in ways that have taken away from the quirky, homey charm that those of us who are trulyfromhere love and want to protect.
Has it helped the local economy? Sure. Whatever. It’s allowed us to add on to the school, bring in more teachers and new programs, and I do have more people coming to some of the Parks and Rec events. But I also have things showing up in the suggestion box and my emails about things like bringing in bands from New Orleans, hot yoga—as if otter yoga in the park isn’t enough—and Mommy and Me activities. I don’t think I can swing concerts like that, and people who don’t like otters are highly suspicious. But I do like the Mommy and Me idea, dammit.
It's just that new people don’t have the heart or loyalty to the town like those of us who have always been here, and it’s hard to trust that they’ll really invest and stick around.
So things have become divided between the old school—those of us who live in the older part of town, hang out and frequent the downtown businesses, and love the traditions—and the newbies who like the chain restaurants, don’t care that they haven’t known the woman doing their hair ever since the terrible incident with cutting their own bangs in fourth grade, and don’t want everyone in the coffee shop to call out “Hi, sweetheart!” when they walk in.
Weirdos.
“We won’t let them take over,” Bruce assures me. “We’ll win the election.”
It’s one thing for them to want a big, fancy, automated car wash instead of Dean Kitch and his sons washing their cars, but to think about one of “them” becoming mayor makes me shudder.
“Then we have to keep Alex Olsen happy,” I say firmly. “He needs to love it here. He needs to lead this hockey league. He needs to sell out that damned arena.”
Bruce nods. “Okay. But…”
I sigh. “But what?”
