Chapter Seven #2
Jess’s presentation flounders after that. They hold up a clipboard and say they’d love to get the endorsement of local businesses—especially any Greenstead ones, they emphasize—before they take the proposal to the mayor. But the mention of the mayor raises more grumbles.
“Like Mayor Bradley’s gonna do anything,” Elise says. “I’m still waiting for that community development grant money he promised us.”
Jess squirms, lowering the clipboard. “That’s proven…
more difficult than he imagined. It turns out that grant is only available for towns of a certain size, and our application was rejected because the federal government classifies Greenstead as, uh—well, the term they used was ‘unincorporated shamble.’ But he’s working on it!
” Jess’s smile falters amid the group’s mutterings.
“Anyway,” Jess says, raising their voice, “I think this initiative would also do a lot for community development. Who wants to sign?”
Jess waits patiently, circling the room and holding the clipboard out. A few people sign it, but none of the Greenstead complainers show the slightest interest. The audience breaks into idle chatter, and Jess leaves with disappointment etched all over their face.
Not the most promising omen for our presentation. I swallow and exchange looks with my coworkers, who all seem much less motivated than they were ten minutes ago.
“Marina Ramos?” the president calls, reading off his agenda. “You’re next.”
This is it. I take a deep breath, straighten my blazer, and rise to my feet. When we reach the front, Marina takes out her laptop and fiddles with the display cables. I chance a glance at the faces in the crowd. The second Tim catches my gaze, I look away.
Marina launches into a speech about the important role the community center plays in giving Greenstead kids and adults alike a place to gather and connect.
Jaclyn, Elise, Tim, and a lot of the folks who’d groused about Jess’s proposal start nodding.
When Marina raises the idea of bringing back the apple festival to boost tourism and raise funds for the community center, the looks range from doubtful to intrigued.
But then she says, “Ryser Cares has agreed to support the festival,” and the protests burst forth.
“Next you’ll say you’ve got Solar Summit’s support,” Elise grouses.
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Arun mumbles, but Randy nudges him.
“What support could they offer, really?” Elise continues. “Free mustard?” The room breaks into titters.
Marina looks helplessly to me. I clear my throat and force myself to make eye contact with the audience.
“We’ll assist with advertising, and we’ll offer some monetary support,” I say. Some is an extreme understatement, but they don’t need to know that.
“Aren’t you Darren Harper’s girl?” Tim Cooper says, squinting in my direction.
My cheeks instantly heat up. “Yes,” I say tentatively. Recognition dawns on a few of the faces trained on me.
“What are you doing working for Ryser?” he asks.
His voice is filled with genuine bewilderment.
There’s an almost paternal concern in his eyes, as if he thinks maybe I was kidnapped and forced into indentured servitude.
In his expression, I see birthday cakes through the years, my name in sugary pink script.
“Well, I…” I let out a breath. “I’ve worked for them since I graduated from college. I interned there.” I’m aware that none of this answers his question.
“I know; Darren told me. But why?” he presses.
I hesitate for a beat too long. His question feels enormous suddenly, impossible to answer. I scramble for something, anything to say about Ryser. “Ryser is devoted to empowering people through food.”
Still not an answer, but it’s a sentence, at least.
“Which is why we’re honored to lend our support,” Arun says, taking a step forward. I shoot him a grateful look. Tim’s face is still tight with doubt, but he doesn’t press me any further.
“What does ‘support’ mean, exactly?” asks Ben. “It can’t be much. We know Ryser Cares hardly does a thing these days.”
My colleagues and I exchange glances. Not one of us can disagree with him on that.
“If you really want vendors, you’ll have to put your money where your mouth is,” Ben says. “Cover the participation fees, and then maybe you’ll get some vendors. Does that sound fair?” He looks out to the audience.
“Sounds fair to me,” Tim says. “I’d sign up if you waived the fee. I don’t see why we should have to pay to have a booth at a festival y’all basically killed in the first place.”
While others murmur in agreement, I turn to Arun, our events expert. Looking remorseful, he subtly shakes his head.
My stomach sinks. All the hopes I’d fastened to this festival start collapsing around me.
This festival was supposed to be my purpose while I’m stuck here.
My path back to DC. A chance to do something good through Ryser.
A way to save one of the last remaining pillars of our town and prove to Marina that I’m not the soulless sellout she sees me as.
And then there was that small inkling I felt yesterday, that pull toward the idea of attending another festival and replacing our argument with a happier memory.
That festival was so intertwined with my childhood, my friendship with Marina.
I can’t imagine standing before our younger selves and telling them the festival is dead, our friendship over, and I didn’t try my hardest to save it.
My friendship with Marina may be beyond repair, but I owe it to those versions of ourselves to do everything in my power to make this festival happen.
“Ryser will cover all vendor participation fees,” I announce.
My words come out steady, certain, masking the knot growing larger in my gut.
Arun nudges my elbow, his eyes wide in a mystified question, but I ignore him.
“All you’ll have to do is show up. As Marina said, we’re expecting a lot of tourists.
This is gonna be big, and you can be part of it for free. Who’s interested in participating?”
The hands that fly up make my false promise worth it, if only for a second. We’ve won over Tim, Meg, Elise, Jaclyn, and at least three-quarters of the room. By my quick math, we’ve exceeded the thirty-five minimum we’d set. Our skeleton frame of a festival has vendors, if nothing else.
I just need to figure out how to convince Ryser to sponsor a festival.