“Says they’re all beef.” Ron uses his finger to underline the words on the package. “It’s not cannibalism.”
Rowe exhales so hard her nostrils flare.
I grin at her as I yank the tape off another box. “You heard the men. Invite everyone you know. We’re having a party.”
“You want another hot dog?” Ron asks as he mans the grill.
I’ve already eaten three, so I pat my very full stomach. “No, thanks.”
He wipes his hands down an apron that readsGrill Powerbefore eyeing the crowd. Half of Mystic Meadows showed up, and they came out in color. One look around the property, and I don’t see folks wearing drab grays and dingy white shirts like I did when we first went to town. These citizens are wearing blues and reds, corals and yellows.
Most of the people, I don’t know, but that doesn’t matter to the good folks of Mystic Meadows. They greeted me as if I were their neighbor, their brother, their best friend.
I have to admit, sometimes it feels like I’ve known these people for a long time—longer even than I’ve known the staff at my hotels.
“This is the life,” Ron says whimsically as he turns the hot dogs.
I can’t help but smile. “Is it?”
“Oh yeah. Grilling out, watching your kids run around while your wife hands you a beer and thanks you for all the hard work you’ve done.”
I take a pull of my own beer. “Do you have kids, Ron?”
“Nah, but when I do, you can bet I’m going to be the best stay-at-home dad ever.”
“That’s if Jennifer decides to trust you alone with them.” Isaac comes up from behind and slaps Ron on the back. “Last I heard, Ron left the iron on and the house almost burned down.”
“That was three months ago,” he counters, stuffing a potato chip in his mouth. “A lifetime in dog years. I’m completely trustworthy.”
Isaac chuckles and grabs a cooked hot dog before dropping it in a bun and slathering mustard and pickles on top. He adds chips to his plate and takes a bite.
“Thanks for this, Pane.” He eyes the pasture. The sun’s beginning to sink, and it casts a golden glow across the grass. “Look at how beautiful this place is and how relaxed you are.”
I lean against a balustrade. It’s about as relaxed as I can get.
“You look like you belong here,” he adds. “Like you’re part of Mystic Meadows.”
“Yeah, like you’re Mystic Meadows’ very rich uncle,” McCauley says, winking at me before handing Ron a fresh beer.
The guys laugh, and my gaze wanders to Rowe, who’s standing with Cristina and Clarice Sinclair, who’s here instead of pouring drinks.
McCauley asks the question I’m thinking: “Who’s manning the bar tonight?”
Isaac swallows a bite of hot dog and places a fist in front of his mouth, answering, “I’m about to leave in a bit.” He eyes me. “You coming for poker night?”
“No, I’ve got some things to do around here.”
“The place looks good,” he tells me proudly. “So does town. People are taking notice of what you’re doing and cleaning up their storefronts.”
My brow lifts. “They are?”
“Yeah, you should see downtown,” Ron says. “There’s something ... almost magical going on. The whole strip looks different.”
I don’t know what to say.
McCauley drops his empty plate in an open trash can. “It’s the Pane Maddox effect.”
“Working on everybody except Rowe.” Isaac lifts his beer to me. “May the curse be broken soon.”
