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Except last week, when I tried to confirm the truck, I had to hound him. Emails didn’t prompt a response. Neither did several texts or the voicemail I left him on Wednesday. It was only after I called Kyle several times that he finally came to the phone, breathless and hurried with all kinds of excuses for why he hadn’t gotten back to me about the partnership. At the time, I was willing to overlook that, and to chalk it up to the usual increase in summer business and an unpredictable car market. Kyle was doing me a favor, and he certainly didn’t have to do me any of them.
Still.
Now, I stared at my phone screen, the minutes ticking down until the start. If he didn’t come through with the truck, I didn’t have a backup plan. I hadn’t thought that through since I’d taken the donation as part of the calculations for the day. I looked up and stared at Morgan’s SUV. It wasn’t washed or new, had a rusty spot near the back passenger door, and a dented front bumper where she’d nudged an outdoor planter outside New Burlington Bakes and Cakes, but if we needed to use it, it could make it. After all, we’d already used it to haul the trailer.
A few of the floats moved into place. Keenan, the emcee, started marshaling the entrants, checking names against a clipboard. I glanced at my watch. Only thirty minutes to go. “Can we use your SUV?” I asked Morgan. “If Kyle doesn’t come with the car?”
My friend wrinkled her nose. “It’s dirty. Haven’t washed it since, like, April.”
“That doesn’t matter. It works and—”
“Maybe he’ll still show up.”
I gave her a look. “He’d be here by now. He was last year.”
She turned and regarded the parking lot as if doing so would make him appear, then returned to me with a sigh. “You’re right. He would be.”
I pointed to her car. “Let’s re-hitch this, then.”
She pulled another face. “I feel so bad. My car isn’t going to do our float any favors.”
I heard the regret in her voice, and I certainly agreed with it, but there was no time to dwell on the disappointment, no time to moan and groan about what hadn’t worked out, what hadn’t come to pass. We needed to move along, we needed to regroup, and we needed to make sure the float made it into the procession on time. The design was the focus anyway—that was the thing people wanted to see. We’d worked so hard on it. There was no way I was going to let a setback like this stop me from achieving my goal.
I was here to win.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ROBERT
We got to Friendship Park early on the Fourth of July. Too early, probably, but I was new to this, and I wanted to make sure we got a prime place in the parade line, which would feature floats staggered between the marching band, a few dance teams, some local business leaders, and collectors of classic cars.
We got the third spot in line.
“Do you think we’re too close to the front?” Brianna asked me when she arrived at the park. “Maybe we’d have more impact if we went last.”
“I like us being this far up,” Kyle Townsend said.
