display with nowhere to hide.
“Summer Fair weekend was one of my favorites growing up,” Carrie answered.
“She and Niall used to ride on one of the convertibles,” Meredith explained, “like the royal family waving to their subjects.”
“You were part of it, too.” Carrie looked around Avery to shoot Meredith an abrupt glare. “I remember your 4-H group on your horses. You were always laughing and having fun while I was stuck with the adults.”
“You loved the attention.” Meredith’s tone was at once accusatory and doubtful, like she wasn’t sure if her recollection could be trusted.
“I wanted friends,” Carrie said simply.
Before either Meredith or Avery could answer, one of the town council members leaned forward. “It isn’t the same without your father,” she said, managing to focus on Carrie while she ignored Avery and Meredith. “He was the heart of this town.”
Avery felt the shift in Carrie, as if the words had landed like a blow. She still couldn’t understand the intricacies of Carrie’s complicated relationship with their father but was coming to believe that her own feelings of bitterness and Meredith’s anger might be the easier emotions to unravel.
“The community is the heart of this town,” Avery answered, earning a subtle glare from the aging Southern belle. “I’m an outsider and even I can tell that Magnolia doesn’t need to rely on one person to keep it vibrant. It’s probably time you realize that, as well.”
A chorus of gasps from around the covered platform greeted her words, as if she’d made some blasphemous outburst. She and her two sisters stood there, living proof of Niall’s fallibility as a man and still she was subject to the subtle canonization of his character in this town.
“Outsider, indeed,” the woman mumbled.
“Well said,” Malcolm told Avery with a wink before turning to the woman. “Not another word, Karen. Watch the parade. Here comes the high school marching band. Their take on the Black Eyed Peas is the bomb.”
“Breathe,” Meredith whispered and Avery gave a soft laugh.
“Thanks for the reminder.”
Carrie linked her arm with Avery’s. “Thanks for the quick comeback with Karen. She had a thing for Dad back in the day.”
Avery took a cue from Carrie and linked her arm with Meredith’s. They might have plenty of differences among themselves, but in front of the town, solidarity with her sisters gave her a measure of comfort and courage she couldn’t explain.
Following the mayor’s order, she focused her attention on the parade. She’d watched plenty of them on television as a kid, but this was the first she’d seen in person. Of course, it didn’t have the grandeur of the giant pop-culture characters bobbing along crowded city streets, but she couldn’t deny the enthusiasm of the participants.
She hummed along with the high school band, waved to a cluster of marching veterans and clapped for a multitude of floats. A large group of dancers from Josie’s School of Dance went by, twirling and leaping their hearts out, but she didn’t see Violet among the girls. Strange because this seemed like the kind of event Gray’s daughter would have loved. Spot lifted her head for a brief moment to sniff the air when the first group of horses clip-clopped by.
“She probably wants to eat the road apples,” Meredith said with an eye roll.
“What are road apples?” Avery asked, then groaned. “Eww.” She made a face at the dog, who’d tossed a baleful look over her shoulder. “She eats poop?”
“Horse poop,” Meredith confirmed. “Lots of dogs do.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Horse poop is filled with enzymes and partially digested proteins,” Meredith explained. “In the grand scheme of things—”
“Save the equine husbandry lesson for later, ladies,” Carrie interrupted.
For some reason, the quiet rebuke sparked a fit of giggles in Avery. She’d gone from the big city to a local parade, jamming to a high school band’s blaring trumpet section while debating the merits of horse poop. Meredith must have understood the absurdity of the moment because she joined in the laughter, and even Carrie flashed a reluctant smile as she shook her head.
“We’re going to get in trouble,”