Nora:Thank you!
I love Beckett’s delivery service. The whole town does. He not only does specialized shopping like this, he also does grocery shopping, will pick up catering orders from restaurants, will pick up and deliver furniture, hardware, appliances, lumber, even people. He takes many of our seniors to and from medical appointments, or even just to shop. There’s very little he can’t or won’t pick up or drop off between Rebel and any of the cities within about a ninety-miles radius, including New Orleans.
We, of course, have the usual services like Fed Ex and UPS, along with the postal service. We also have ride-share services within the town, and many of our restaurants, including Perks and Rec, provide delivery services, but Beckett’s services fill a gap. He’ll pick up the specialized drill someonehas to havetoday to finish a repair job, but that would cost them time away from their work site to get themselves, and that would take at least a couple of days to get through one of the other services. He’ll take Miss Susan to her neurology appointment in New Orleans and take detailed notes of what the doctor says for her daughter, Lori, so that Lori doesn’t have to take time off from her teaching job. Miss Susan likes going with Beckett better anyway, because he doesn’t need to get back to get the kids from daycare and will take her through the drive-through daiquiriplace and then for a walk along the riverfront before heading home.
I also love that Beckett’s services are income-based. Some people don’t pay anything to have him pick up special items for them. Those who are able pay him a very reasonable fee. I know all of this is possible because my cousin Dane, everybody’s favorite billionaire, subsidizes the service.
No matter how much Dane complains about his father leaving him with all of these businesses he can’t get rid of and the dependency of this little town that he never asked for, Dane constantly uses his father’s riches to help the town, even when he’s doing it in secret.
“Emergency movie night committee reporting for duty!” I hear Everly call as the outer door to the Parks and Rec office opens.
“Get in here. I’ve been dying for you guys to get here,” Sutton says.
“Do you know more about The Date?” Everly asks.
“I know more about Alex Olsen,” Sutton says.
“Oh,yes,” Andi says.
I’m up and out of my desk chair immediately.
I walk to the outer office as Andi, Everly, and Sutton start setting up our usual lunch potluck.
Everly is in her standard shorts and tank that she wears when she’s doing lawn care. I know this morning she was up at the park making sure everything is trimmed and neat for movie night.
She takes the lid off the bowl of the salad she brought. She always contributes a salad of some kind. Sometimes it’s a lettuce salad with tons of ingredients, sometimes it’s a fruit salad, sometimes pasta, but it’s always amazing.
“This is a rosemary and sundried tomato bread,” Andi says as she unwraps a round, crusty loaf of bread. “I’m not sure of it.”She’s wearing loose flowy silk pants in a light blue that matches the sleeveless silky top. I can’t tell where she’s been—could have been yoga or coffee or shopping. All I do know is that she isn’t covered in paint or clay, so she didn’t come straight from either of her art studios.
“I’m sure it’s delicious as always,” Sutton tells her.
Sutton has been here in the office with me. Besides being the dance teacher for several classes, and now the hockey team’s choreographer, she’s also the Parks and Rec department’s receptionist and my assistant. She’s wearing her typical sundress with sandals, her hair in a French braid.
I cross to the refrigerator and pull out the peach and mango iced tea I made last night. This is not a brand-new addition to our potlucks, but I added honey to it so we’ll see if it’s sweet enough for Sutton, our sweet-tea aficionado.
We don’t plan who’s bringing what. Everly is in charge of salads, Andi always makes us bread, Sutton brings the sandwich fillings, and I’m in charge of drinks.
We fell into these assignments a long time ago. Everly loves her fruits and veggies, Sutton is used to cooking and always has a fridge full of meat and sandwich fixings because of Beckett, and Andi has been trying out this cottage-core lifestyle since her husband left. She mostly hates it, but, for some reason, has fallen in love with baking bread.
We all just know what we’re supposed to bring to our lunch potlucks and somehow it always magically works together.
“I’ve got crab salad today,” Sutton says, also going to the fridge for her container. She’s made this before, and it’s always delicious.
I carry the glass pitcher to the table where we spread out our lunch offerings.
We start making our sandwiches and dishing up salad as I say, “What is this about Alex?”
Sutton grins across the table at me. “I was at the Rec this morning for breakfast.”
I stop with my spoonful of quinoa, cucumber, tomato, and feta salad, positioned above my plate. “Oh?”
“I thought maybe Alex could use a friendly face. Beckett, too.” She slides a glance at Andi. “He’s sweet like that.”
Andi doesn’t respond. She completely ignores the comment about Beckett entirely.
“Did he?” I ask. “Need a friendly face?”
I texted Sutton, Everly, Andi, and Quinn that our date last night was great. I told them where we went, that we had a wonderful time, and that I was home safely. I’d also informed my grandpas about where we were going as soon as I knew, and then when I got home. Nothing more or less.
