Page 85 of No Place Like Home
“I still can, you know. Maybe we can squeeze in that girl’s night before I leave.”
“Your solution to the toilet problem was a great idea, by the way. I know Cade will be grateful.” Zoey gestured to her sugary wares. “I’d offer you a complimentary beignet, but I have a guess what your answer would be.”
“That answer might change after my performances are over this week, so ask me again.” Rosalyn shielded her eyes with one hand and scanned the festival grounds. Cade still hadn’t answered her text, which was odd. She had yet to talk to him today at all. After she’d parked her car an hour ago and hurried over to meet Zoey, he’d vanished, presumably, according to Zoey, to try to make arrangements with another porta-potty company ASAP.
She wanted to tell him he could relax, could focus on other fires for a bit that were sure to ignite. Wanted to make sure he wasn’t beating himself up and tell him she’d helped find a temporary solution. That everything would be okay.
But where was he?
* * *
Enough was enough.
Cade flexed his fingers at his sides as he paced his father’s office, waiting on his return. Dad wasn’t usually out of office this time of the afternoon, and Cade desperately needed to get back to the festival.
But this conversation was long overdue.
The air conditioner hummed overhead, and he couldn’t help but notice how the fern in Dad’s window thrived. Figured.
He had to tell his father the truth—it was a horrible time to run for mayor, even if he could wait several more weeks to start the actual campaign. A few weeks weren’t going to solve Cade’s focus issues, his anxiety struggles, or how thin he was spread.
Bilbo Baggins had nailed it—butter scraped over too much bread.
Cade would never be able to fully focus on the festival if he didn’t get this off his chest and out of his head. It had to be said before Dad became even more convinced of his idea of passing the torch. The porta-potty fiasco had been the last straw.
He couldn’t do it all.
Cade paused in front of the big window overlooking the park. The afternoon sun beamed through the trees, sending golden stripes of light across people enjoying the day. Hopefully, some of them would head to the festival that evening. Dog-walkers strolled the winding concrete path, while children played in the grass. A beach ball soared through the air, and a kid eagerly chased it down before it rolled into the pond.
Cade loved this place. And he was doing it a disservice because he wasn’t fully invested in his goals. Maybe Dad could wait one more term before retiring. Or bail mid-term and give Cade a year or so to prepare between now and then. Get counseling for the anxiety flare-ups.
And get the town in the black before filling his proverbial plate with even more food.
Speaking of. He pulled a pack of Skittles from his pocket and ripped open the bag before checking his phone. He’d silenced it on the way over because the less he knew about what was happening at Magnolia Days, the better.
Several texts had come in, including a few from Rosalyn. He opened the thread.
“Cade! Excellent timing.” Dad pushed into his office, shutting the door with a click.
Cade pocketed his cell. He’d have to read them later.
His father checked his Cartier watch, then settled in his chair and picked up the TV remote. He’d gotten a haircut, and his goatee was trimmed short. “I have something I want to show you.”
Cade mumbled around his mouthful of candy. “Could we talk first?” He swallowed.
“If this is about the porta-potty issue, don’t worry. I handled it.” Dad waved his hand through the air and then aimed the remote at the television.
Great. Cade shoved the package back in his pocket. Word was already spreading of his incapability. “How’d you hear?”
“Everyone was talking about it at Chug a Mug when I stopped for coffee.”
Perfect.
“I never would’ve used that particular company in the first place.” Dad clicked on the TV and flipped channels. “Honestly, the mistake is on them.”
Except Dad knewnotto use them, further proving Cade’s point—his father’s shoes didn’t fit him.
“Regardless, they should be delivering the pods shortly.” Dad scrolled the channel list, his tone unconcerned.
