Page 114 of The Ballad of Us
As we make our way down the front path, I catch sight of Gray's truck pulling into the parking space in front of Mountain Mornings. Right on schedule—he always picks up Rhea at the end of her afternoon shift. Through the coffee shop window, I can see Emma pointing in our direction, alerting Rhea to our strategic reconnaissance mission.
This village operates on information networks that would make the Pentagon envious, and I'm proud to be its central communications hub.
"Leslie," Mrs. Patterson says as we approach the bookshop, "what exactly are you planning?"
"My dear woman," I say, adjusting my posture to project casual elegance and community-minded concern, "I'm not planning anything. I'm simply fostering an environment where authentic connections can flourish naturally."
"Uh-huh. And the summer festival?"
"It is a celebration of our community's artistic and cultural assets."
"And all those 'proximity opportunities' you've been engineering?"
"Are strategic applications of feng shui principles to optimize social energy flow."
Mrs. Patterson stops walking and looks at me with the expression of someone who has spent forty years managing kindergartners and recognizes manipulation tactics when she sees them.
"Leslie Hartman," she says, "you're meddling."
"Mrs. Patterson," I reply with dignity, "I'm facilitating."
"Same thing."
"Entirely different thing. Meddling implies interference in affairs that doesn’t concern me. Facilitating suggests providing support for outcomes that benefit everyone involved."
"And you think everyone involved wants your support?"
I consider this seriously, because Mrs. Patterson asks excellent questions and I respect her opinion on matters of community dynamics.
"I think," I say finally, "that sometimes people need permission to want what they already want. Sometimes they need someone to create circumstances that make an authentic connection feel safe and possible."
"And you've appointed yourself the person who provides that permission?"
"I've appointed myself as someone who cares enough about this community to pay attention to what people need and how I can help provide it."
Mrs. Patterson studies my face for a long moment, then nods slowly. "You know what, honey? This village has needed someone like you for a long time. Someone who sees the bigger picture and isn't afraid to do something about it."
"Really?"
"Really. But Leslie?"
"Yes?"
"Next time you break into Rhea and Gray’s apartment to rearrange their furniture, maybe call me first. I've got a key to half the places in this village, and I'm much better at keeping secrets than people think."
I stop walking and stare at her. How did she know I’d snuck in this morning after they left for work? "Mrs. Patterson, are you offering to be my co-conspirator in future community improvement projects?"
"I'm offering to be your community liaison for strategic relationship facilitation initiatives."
"That's the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said to me."
"Well, don't get all weepy about it. We've got reconnaissance to conduct."
As we approach the bookshop, I can see Koi and Mrs. Chen through the window, heads bent over a real estate listing printout. Koi is nodding enthusiastically about something, while Mrs. Chen points toward the window.
"Mrs. Patterson," I murmur, "I think we're about to witness something significant."
“Hmm,” she hums an agreement. “We should investigate Koi’s presence more. We can get him to agree to judge a local talent contest during your summer festival. It’ll give us an opportunity to see what he’s about.”
