Page 32

IT ONLY TAKES A MEMORY

Firefly smelled different in the rain.

I cupped the sides of my mug with both hands, shivering as the warmth spread through my body. I sat on the swing outside my house, gently swaying back and forth. The rain came down hard enough that my gutters stopped doing their job.

“We needed the rain.” Every summer, we muttered the words, but by fall, we had our fair share. With the leaves preparing to fall, we’d have an early onset of autumn without the rain. The leafers would be up in arms if they didn’t have time to see the forest turn the color of fire.

I pulled a foot out of my slipper and stuck it in the rain. Not even the heat from the cocoa could offset the chill. By the time I drew it back, the leg of my flannel pajamas had soaked through. There didn’t seem to be any end in sight.

“Defeated by Mother Nature.” I flipped the bird, waving it about as if somebody in the yard might see. “I hate you.” Ironic, considering how much I loved playing in the rain.

I had shut off my phone. The text messages from Amanda asking what we were going to do had gotten overwhelming. While I prepared my concession speech, she wanted to rally the troops. I accepted the loss. Giving up should have made me frantic, or at least angry, but I felt a sense of peace.

“It’s out of my hands.” I took a sip of the hot chocolate, fishing for the tiny marshmallows with my tongue. I wiped my face clean before licking my fingers.

Lightning lit up the yard seconds before thunder rumbled across the valley. Under different circumstances, this would have been magical. When I bought a house, a porch with a swing had been my top priority. Growing up, watching my parents spend the evenings swaying back and forth had left its mark.

Tomorrow, I’d get an early start and get the comic shop ready for disappointed geeks.

Even with the convention rained out, there were plenty of storefronts still showing off their superhero swag.

What if it wasn’t all on the green? Attendees could at least stop by the shops and indulge their curiosities.

It might not be the comic convention I envisioned, but hopefully, it provided a little bump to the community.

I couldn’t ignore the world. I flipped my phone on for a second. Seventy-two text messages? Amanda must have worked herself into a?—

Jon: Take the night off. We’ve got this bitch.

Amanda: Jon! Got an interesting text. We have an idea. Come back to the loft.

That I expected, but it was the other seventy that surprised me.

Simon: When you’re ready, I’m here. There are so many sliders. Nobody will be hungry.

Abraham: I found a shield. A sword is too much, right? We’re storming the dungeon.

Dorothy: Superhero cookies have been made. Now, to frost them.

Gladys: The quilt guild donated two more quilts! They also made capes for the kids.

Bonny: Hey Cupcake. If you need space, we can clear out under the awning in front of the store.

They kept going. With each new message, my eyes watered. I had given up on Firefly, but it hadn’t given up on me. While I had been focused on all the things the town wasn’t, I had forgotten what made its heart beat. The people of Firefly, good or bad, they were my family.

Mom: I love you, and remember who the duck you are.

Mom: Duck…

Mom: Duck!!!

Mom: I give up. Love you, Boogie.

I slugged back the rest of my coffee and kicked off my other slipper.

Setting the mug on the porch, I dashed out into the rain.

I nearly slipped on the slate pavers as I gunned it for the truck.

I tore the door open before climbing inside.

Even after a few seconds in the downpour, I could feel the wetness in my underwear.

I pulled down the visor and grabbed the keys. As soon as the engine turned over, I pulled out of the driveway and headed toward downtown. I might have a moment of peace, but the more I thought about Firefly and the convention, the more I needed to drown myself in familiarity.

Even with the windshield wipers on max, I had to keep the truck to a slow crawl. I rolled past Georgie’s old house. During my freshman year, I had to work on a history paper with him and he offered me my first cigarette. First and last. Mom had grounded me for a week after she smelled my jacket.

Turning the corner, I spotted Old Man Vinny’s house.

The white fence out front had seen better days.

Eventually, we’d tire of seeing the chipped paint and make him touch it up.

Of course, we’d grab a six-pack of beer and help him.

We’d spend more time telling stories about the founders of Firefly than actually painting.

Every house I passed, I could trace the owners back several generations. Some were people I grew up with, others were classmates of my parents. I had gotten fixated on needing more. I almost forgot the comfort of living in a small town.

“Bonny,” I laughed as I spotted her and Carl in the garage.

They had opened the door while the truck sputtered.

She leaned over the front of their truck as she fixed something.

While her legs hung in the air, Carl searched for tools, handing them to her.

Bonny might have been the pretty girl in school, but her dad insisted she know how to fix a car.

Carl, on the other hand, knew when to be the assistant.

With one more turn, I drove along the green.

I was surprised to see so many stores with their lights on.

The downpour kept them from lighting up the park, but inside Twice-Told Tales, I spotted people moving about.

Gladys had probably scored some new antique and needed to create a display before the store opened.

I could see the light on in the comic shop.

I thought about stopping and running in.

“If they needed me, they’d say.” Whatever they had going on, it was between them.

I stopped in front of the store, looking across the green.

I had hoped to see the light on in the Bistro.

If it had been on, would I have gone in?

To my surprise, I smiled. Before the Bistro, it had been the Rise and Shine.

The couple who ran it had grown up with my grandparents.

It closed as quickly as it opened. Everybody thought they threw in the towel.

The woman had gotten sick, and instead of spending their twilight years in the kitchen, he had bought a small cabin near Canada.

Mom said he rediscovered what mattered most to him.

“Me too,” I whispered.

The convention wouldn’t happen. Instead of disappointment, I had warm fuzzy feelings. Maybe I didn’t get the results I wanted, but I think Firefly had given me what I needed. I might not know what the future held, but I had my reason to stay.

“I love this town.” I couldn’t give it up, not completely. It’d be weird walking down a street and not knowing random facts about every person I encountered. Twenty percent less gossip would be great, but who was I kidding? I shared as much as anybody else.

“Do I dare?” An idea entered my mind. “Could I have both?” Portland was a few hours away, and Boston was only a few hours beyond that.

It might be a haul, but maybe I could convince Amanda or Jon to go with me now and then?

If I could repair the damage I inflicted on my friendship with Simon, maybe he’d show me around the city.

One weekend, we could eat our way through the city.

“We’ll call them cultural expeditions.”

I continued driving around the green, heading back toward the house. The thought of being a tourist in the city made me excited. I’m sure after a long weekend, we’d come back, thankful for the familiar. It’d be a perfect way to upset our boring routines.

Tomorrow might not be what I hoped for. I was going to put on a brave face. It was time to head home and settle in for the night. I spun the wheel and revved the engine as I made my way back.

For a moment, I thought the rain might let up. The wipers furiously slinging water left and right said otherwise. I’d be lucky if I didn’t need to break out a canoe to get to work in the morning. Pulling onto my street, I slowed.

“What in the hell?”

In my senior year, a neighbor borrowed my car to take his wife to the hospital.

I couldn’t get to school that day. The principal didn’t bat an eye when I explained my absence.

It was the same mentality coming downstairs in the morning to see another neighbor making coffee and waiting for my dad in the bathroom.

Sometimes, we were too familiar with one another.

That’s to say, it shouldn’t be a surprise to see a figure sitting on my porch swing.

“Amanda, what are you up to?”

With the lights behind her, she had an ominous appearance. Why hadn’t she gone inside to wait? Even if she hadn’t brought her key, she knew every hiding place. Wait, I hadn’t even locked the front door when I left.

I pulled into the driveway, stopping next to a car I didn’t recognize.

In the back of my head, alarms screamed.

Maybe she came to report on this brilliant idea she and Jon had.

I turned off the ignition, trying to psych myself up for the cold water.

Running around in the rain while wearing flannel wasn’t my brightest idea.

“I hate being wet.”

I threw open the door and jumped out. Speeding along the path toward the porch, I nearly toppled again as my feet slipped on the slate.

I stayed upright, but the few extra seconds meant I was drenched.

There was no point in rushing now. Good, cause as I got closer, I realized it wasn’t Amanda lounging on my porch.

“Lucy?”

She stood, pushing back the hood of her sweatshirt. It wasn’t her usual fluffy sweater and skin-tight jeans. Like me, she had been soaked to the bone. Pushing her hair behind her ear, she looked nervous as she continued staring at the porch.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay? Is it Lucas?”

“Jason, I think we should talk.”