for far too long?”
“Your father understood the importance of a thriving downtown. He was willing to help support others for the good of the community.”
“How is downtown thriving if the shops and business owners aren’t bringing in enough revenue to pay the bills?”
“Things changed around here when tourists stopped coming to visit the gallery and the workshops Niall sponsored. But Magnolia is a great place with good people. We’re all doing what we can to turn things around.”
Avery didn’t like the frisson of responsibility that skittered along her skin. She owed nothing to this town or its well-intentioned mayor. Maybe Niall Reed should have paid more attention to his own life and less to his reputation as Magnolia’s guardian angel, especially when he no longer had the financial means for that sort of largesse.
“Ignoring reality doesn’t help anyone,” she told Malcolm, not slowing her pace. “It didn’t do much for either of my sisters or me. I’m not sure what you hope or expect from me...”
“I don’t want to see Josie’s studio close,” Malcolm answered without hesitation. “Or Phil’s hardware store or the bookshop Stuart’s family has owned since his great-grandma retired as the school librarian over thirty years ago.”
Avery stopped walking, and Spot wiggled in her arms. Finally, something positive about this morning. The dog wanted some exercise. She lowered the animal to the ground, and Spot quickly trotted over to where someone had dropped a half-eaten breakfast sandwich. The dog gobbled up bites of egg and sausage like she was an Olympic competitor.
“Spot, no.” Avery yanked the leash, half dragging the dog away from the food. So much for positive.
“Listen, Mr. Mayor,” she said, turning to Malcolm. “As sympathetic as I might be to the plight of a struggling small town, there’s nothing I can do to help your friends.”
“Are you sympathetic?” His face brightened. “Did you grow up in a small town?”
“No.” Avery waved the hand that wasn’t holding the leash. “I was raised in San Francisco. We lived in a high-rise downtown, and my mom worked a lot. She’s a surgeon. It was a very important job. But I watched Gilmore Girls back in the day. I get small towns.”
Malcolm threw back his head and laughed, a cackling sound of joy and disbelief. “Lordy, girl. Watching a television show about small-town life is like seeing a photo of cotton candy. It looks good but you sure can’t understand the sweet scent or the joy of spun sugar melting on your tongue unless you experience it firsthand.”
Avery bent down and picked up Spot again. “I’ve never had cotton candy.”
“Excuse me?”
She shrugged. “My mom didn’t believe in sugary treats.”
“What’s a treat without sugar?” Malcolm shook his head.
“I don’t like things that are messy. Like cotton candy. Or children.”
“Small-town life is messy,” Malcolm said gently. “Life is messy.”
“Not mine,” Avery told him and resumed walking. “It never has been, and I’m not starting now.” She spoke the words, hoping the confidence of her tone would convince them both. Her world in the past month barely resembled the life she knew. “I couldn’t help the business owners even if I wanted to.”
She held up a hand when he would have spoken. “Which I don’t. I don’t have the money to float them or the clout Niall apparently had with the bank. They aren’t going to allow me to continue skipping mortgage payments.”
“These are good people, Ms. Keller,” Malcolm said, and there was no mistaking the plea in his voice.
“I’m not arguing that point. I wish there was more I could offer.”
Did she? This town and the people in it meant nothing to Avery. If she had the ability to help the businesses turn things around, would she take it?
She shook off the thought. It didn’t matter because there would be no opportunity for her to help. “I appreciate you taking the time to introduce yourself,” she told Malcolm. “I hope whatever happens to Magnolia after I sell Niall’s property ends up being for the best.”
“Me, too,” he agreed, not sounding at all convinced.