Page 39 of Shaken

Serena giggles. “Ass.”

“Baby, that’s a bad word. Don’t let Mommy hear you say that. Please.” Max kisses her head and tickles her side, making the one-year-old belly-laugh. Then he looks at me. “You’re gonna get me in trouble with Daphne.”

“Ass,” she says again as soon as Max stops paying attention to her, and I stand up, knowing I’m about to get yelled at. “I’ll call you sometime this week, Max.”

He glares. “Why don’t you stop by the office? Let’s talk more about it.”

I nod and walk away, not sure how much more there is to say.

I feel like I’m floundering.

Like I’m not sure what it is I’m looking for, but I’m pretty sure about what I don’t want.

Knowing, though, I’m ready for the next thing.

* * *

Iopt for the long way home from Ashlyn’s, taking in the town I’ve always loved. Kroydon Hills is hidden away in the suburbs of Philadelphia. Close enough that the city is a quick ride, but far enough removed that it’s still able to maintain the small-town feel we grew up with. Main Street has been seeing somewhat of a renaissance these past few years, after the recession drove most of the shops on the tree-lined street out of business. But there are still more empty storefronts than full ones.

When we were young, it was easy to hop on your bike and peddle up to Main Street for lunch, ice cream, or a comic book. But now, even the two-screen, old-fashioned movie theater has shuttered its doors. The first time I ever made it to third base with a girl was in the back of the balcony of Theater One.

Now you’ve got to go into the city to catch a movie.

Max might want me to be thinking on a multi-million-dollar scale. But I think I’d rather help struggling businesses in my own town instead of dealing with the bullshit of buying smaller ones for King Corp. to absorb. I love our family’s business. It’s our legacy. But I’m not sure it’s the only legacy I want to leave behind.

As if a lightbulb suddenly goes off in my mind, an idea sharpens and solidifies.

Our town doesn’t need a full-blown revitalization.

But it could use a little help.

Excitement takes hold of me as thoughts start shooting in rapid fire. By the time I pull into my driveway, a plan is forming—well, the beginning of a plan. Nothing I’d be willing to take to Max and my siblings yet.

But it’s there.

It’s viable.

And it’s a damn good idea.

When I’m parked and out of the car, I look over at Wren’s house. It’s dark, except for a warm glow coming from her bedroom. Does that mean she’s awake?

For some reason, I’ve got an urge to talk to her.

To tell her about my idea.

Not because she’d like it right away. Although, who wouldn’t like something that would get the empty storefronts filled and create new opportunities for their town. No... I want to talk to her because I know she’ll pick it apart. She’s Red. And this woman has fought everything I’ve ever said to her since the first time she talked to me.

In all fairness, I may have cut her Barbie’s hair off that day.

So I guess she had a right to be pissed.

I lean against the side of my car, staring for a moment and debating on going over to Wren’s or going to bed.

The internal debate continues as I walk up to her front door.

It ends when she opens the door in a pale-purple pajama shirt, her hair falling down around her shoulders. “Sawyer?”

“Hey ya, Red.”

---