she was mine for the summer and leave the decision to stay or go hanging in the air like a flipped coin.
People had streamed into the park from Main Street, making their way toward us. Some with smiles, some passing by with scowls. Mitchell had a hold of this town for better or for worse, and at the end of the day, a cross section of folks would always be opposed to any pushback. They couldn’t—or wouldn’t—think long term, convinced that Mitchell was the authority and knew best. They liked the idea of a Goody’s being closer than a half hour away, liked the idea of cheap food and superstore prices on goods. And they chose to ignore the faces of the business owners who’d kept our town in business, some for a hundred years.
I couldn’t understand it. I couldn’t fathom the self-interest that would put their wants over others’ needs. The injustice of it lit me up like a bonfire.
But we were gonna win. We would save Main Street from a swift death by Big-Box, and fuck Mitchell if he got in our way.
I couldn’t help but notice over the first half hour we were out there that there was an air of indecision about some of the people I’d thought we had in the bag. Like Pastor Coleburn, who seemed skittish and noncommittal when he’d just laid a sermon on the town that’d fired them up for our cause in a way only he could.
When Evan stalked into the park, I knew I was about to find out why.
“What’s the matter?” Poppy asked as he approached.
Evan eyed the townspeople gathered around and jerked his chin toward the trees behind us. When we were clustered far enough away for them not to hear, he gave us the worst news we’d had since we’d started.
“Goody’s is fighting back.”
“What happened?” Jo asked.
“As we speak, mailers are being delivered to the entire town showcasing a biased, bullshit economic study that undermines everything we’ve done. Already I’ve heard from the football coach, a handful of businesses, and the pastor that they’re not sure anymore what’s best. That fucking mailer says they’re going to help businesses and cited more biased studies from small towns across the country. And this is just the beginning.”
“How so?” I asked.
“They’ve got their own slogan, and Mitchell’s gang is already passing out lawn signs, bumper stickers, and flyers. Let’s Grow. Just on my way here, I saw three of our window signs on Main Street replaced with Goody’s.”
Presley’s eyes were wide. “What are we gonna do?”
Evan shook his head. “I don’t know. We need to get a meeting together. Tonight, if we can manage it. If we have any chance of hanging on, we’ve got to mobilize. Now.” He swore under his breath. “I knew we’d had it too easy.”
“We can still win,” Poppy said with so much determination, it was almost impossible not to hope. “Evan, do you remember when Goody’s came to Kneller and they lost their Main Street?”
“The only thing left there is a Flying J and a Buc-ees,” I noted.
“Think we can get the old mayor to come talk to the town?” Poppy asked.
“Good idea,” Evan answered. “We can see about coming up with a study of our own from a third party. But it’s gonna take time. They’ve probably been working on this for weeks, waiting for the vote to drop the bomb. Goddamn Mitchell.”
“We’re going to figure it out,” I promised, my gaze sweeping the worried faces around me. “There’s no way in hell we’re going to lose this fight, not if I’ve got anything to do with it. Daisy, you stay and run the table with Jo. Poppy, Evan—how about you and Presley and I split up and canvas behind Mitchell’s crew? We can start with Main Street. We can put the word out about the meeting tonight too.”
Everyone nodded, and with a brief explanation to the Brombergs and Dottie, we were off.
Our groups split once we hit Main Street—Presley and I took one side of the street, and Evan and Poppy took the other. For a minute, Presley and I walked in silence.
“This is bad,” she finally said. “This is so bad.”
“If I thought Mitchell could be reasoned with, I’d say we campaign straight to him. But I don’t think he’d entertain me for much more than a black eye. And he’s made up his mind about this, even put his own money into it, I’d bet.”
“You think the propaganda isn’t