Page 12 of Ocotillo Kisses
Chapter Four
Whathadshe gotten herself into? Britt had convinced her grandmother to accompany her to the town council meeting the following evening. The room in one of the empty storefronts was small and claustrophobic even without the dozens of people who had crowded in to sit on the metal folding chairs. She wondered why they couldn’t have accessed one of the larger storefronts. She managed to find a seat for her grandmother, but stood against the wall herself. From this vantage point, she could see who attended.
She saw, surprisingly, Poppy, Sofia, Ginny and Austin, the youngest people in the crowd. She recognized only a handful of others, including her uncle James, who merely waved at her from across the room. Because of this meeting, she’d put off inviting her uncle and cousin for dinner. Maybe she’d talk to them after the meeting and set something up for tomorrow.
She didn’t know why she’d hoped to see Con here. He had enough on his plate without adding town business, she was sure. But she had still hoped to see him.
Why? So he could cut her off more publicly this time? No idea. But being back in town meant he weighed more heavily on her mind than usual.
The meeting was called to order by Mr. Davila. Five people sat on the council, and Britt recognized two. Was that because more people had left than had come to live here? She didn’t know. She did know she paid a little more attention to the proceedings than she might have done, just to try to catch up on the goings on of the town.
The development on the other side of the square, it turned out, was a new construction business, run by Caleb Pearson and Beck Conover. They were reassembling the old depot to use as their headquarters, and from there they would be working to convert the apartments over the storefronts to use as apartments. Apparently Mr. McKay had invested in their business before he passed on, with the apartments being one of the stipulations of the investment.
Mrs. Lopez stood up to present new business. “I know we decided not to do a Founders Day because it was too much work and the same people always end up pulling the weight. But we thought.” She gestured to a group sitting near her, including them in her use of the word “we.” “We thought since Britt Fraser is back, you know, and she does this for a living, so I thought maybe she could help us get the Fourth of July celebration going. I talked to her yesterday and she said she’d be happy to help.”
Britt stepped forward without thinking, her hand up as if she could stop Mrs.Lopez, but she was too late. Everyone was chatting amongst themselves, and the town council, at the front of the the room, were sitting up straighter, smiling and nodding. The younger people, though, were looking at each other with much less enthusiasm.
“Wait, I said I’d make a plan for you all,” Britt said. “I am not going to be here to do the legwork. I will be back in Houston June first. I’m coming up to my busy season.”
Mrs. Lopez looked at her, and honestly, could a person look more sad? “But you said you wanted to help us.”
“And I will. I’ll look for vendors and entertainment, and I’ve already started making you a plan and a timeline, but I’m going to say, starting this late is going to limit your options. I checked, and Kimmel and San Angelo are both having events, and that means it will be harder to get people to drive out here for ours, especially since we are so much smaller. I’m just warning you not to get your hopes up.”
“I thought you were good at this.”
Mrs. Lopez’s expression had returned to the stubborn set Britt was more accustomed to. “I am, but again, we’re getting a late start, and I don’t know any vendors in the area. I’ll do what I can, but I’m saying don’t think it’s magically going to transform the town square into the carnival from Grease, or whatever.”
“Oh, that would be fun, though,” one of the councilwomen said.
Britt continues, wishing she hadn’t said that. “And I’m certain there’s a budget you want me to work within. We haven’t discussed that, but that’s going to limit our options further. And also I’d like to see a wishlist of what you’d like me to try to get, ranked from most important to least.”
She hadn’t meant right that minute, because she didn’t have anything to write on, but the crowd started calling out suggestions.
“Rides!”
“Bands!”
