Summer Sweat (Spruce Texas)

The little monster charm hanging from my rearview mirror catches the sun for a moment, as if to wink at me. It was a gift of congratulations from my family when I got this car—but really it’s Gemma who found the cute trinket at a market, and it reminded her of her birthday cake. I give it a pinch with my fingers, smile to myself, and say, “Love you bunches, Gems. Time for your big bro to venture out … and try not to make a fool outta himself in front of these college folks.”

I swear, the little monster winks back at me.

Epilogue

Harrison

I sit on the edge of the couch watching the TV intently. Turtle sits on the back of it with his feet on the cushions, his ukulele in his lap, having paused the song he was playing. Emmalea stands behind the couch leaning in, having come up from the kitchen to listen, her cooking interrupted. Rust sits on the arm of the couch. Miguel and Fred are at the dining table playing cards, but their game is interrupted as they pay attention to the TV, too.

It’s Nadine Strong making a speech on the local news channel. That’s officially Mayor Nadine, who has been Spruce’s mayor for the past two months now. It’s so strange, to see her on TV. She almost doesn’t look like her normal self. Whatever business attire she’s wearing is Lance’s doing, but her signature curls done into something of a beehive with her big hoop earrings showing is all her doing. She addresses the town with confidence and class. I’m used to seeing her unhinged and frazzled. This focused version of her is an unexpected yet welcomed surprise.

Rust nudges me. “What do you think?”

I shrug. “I think she’ll be a great mayor. More effective, more active, and way more present than Mayor Raymond, for sure.”

“Mayor Raymond was a tool,” mumbles Emmalea. “And I’m sayin’ that and ain’t even a Spruce citizen.”

“In spirit, y’all are,” I say with a smirk.

“Hmm. Maybe we got dual citizenship then,” says Fred.

“There’s no such thing,” mumbles Miguel.

“Sure there is,” says Fred. “Fair-Sprucians.”

Emmalea snorts. “You and your made-up words. Freddy, I’m gonna get you a dog-gone dictionary for your birthday, I swear.”

“I don’t need no gabnabbin’ dictionary!” he growls back.

I laugh, then realize I’m out of beer. I hop off the couch and head to the kitchen to get another from the fridge, surrounded suddenly by the delicious aromas of Emmalea’s cooking. With a quick check of my phone, I see it should be any minute now that Hoyt’s home. Why do I feel like some puppy waiting on his owner to come back from work? What’s next? Am I gonna run up to the door and bark at it the moment I hear his car crunching gravel?

“How do you think he did?”

It’s Emmalea, having returned. She stirs a pot on the stove and gazes at me with happy little sparkles in her eyes. Either she and Turtle are finally hooking up after a whole summer of flirting and unbearable ukulele songs, or she’s in one of her silly moods where she’s overjoyed about Hoyt and I being a couple.

I lift an eyebrow at her. “Hoyt? At school? I’m sure he’s fine.”

“I know you’re worried about him.” Her voice is soft, making our conversation private, unheard by the others as they continue watching the mayor’s speech. “I had a friend who went to Fairview Community. She called it Fairview High 2.0,” she says with a light chuckle. “It’s such a tightknit community, feels like just more high school. Nothin’ too stupid-fancy or intimidatin’—no fraternities or anything like that. Just classes, decent food court, a cool garden atrium thing between the science and math buildings, a fountain with two statues of a naked Apollo and Artemis together …”

“Aren’t they twins? Brother and sister?”

She wrinkles up her face. “How am I supposed to know? They are freakin’ gods. They can do whatever they want.”

I snort. “You know their names, but you don’t know if—”

“My point is, it’s a nice little campus—and maybe I made it sound a tiny bit fancier than it really is—but Hoyt is gonna feel at home there.” She pulls open the oven to check on something, then eyes me. “And when the young man comes back for dinner, he’ll feel even more at home. Isn’t it nice? Seeing him bloom before your eyes?”

I nod, still stuck in my head as I lean against the fridge with my new beer, which I haven’t opened yet. “Yeah … it is.”

“What’s the matter?”

I look at her, then laugh. “No, no, nothing’s the matter.”

“Tell me. It’s alright. What is it? You worried he’ll regret not goin’ to Austin?” She hits me on the arm. “You ever gonna wake up and see how much he loves you? And this place? He doesn’t wanna leave Spruce no more than you want him to. He loves his family too dang much. And that family now includes all of us.”