Chapter 35
Bodie
@TownOfGibsonHollow: The lights are on, the music’s tuning up, and Main Street’s never looked better. Thank you to every volunteer, vendor, and neighbor who pitched in to bring this festival to life. Tonight we celebrate together. #GlitterAndGrit
@BigWadeW: Smoker’s been going since dawn. Got ribs, pulled pork, AND sausage on the table. Come hungry or don’t come at all. #GlitterAndGrit
@EvettesHouseofCurls: Haven’t seen the Hollow this alive since before the flood. Y’all better believe I curled extra tight tonight for the occasion. Glad to be home! #GlitterAndGrit
The festival lit downtown Gibson Hollow like someone had strung the Milky Way a little too low and then decided to keep it.
So many string lights zigzagged from brick to brick, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the Sasspatch Society had gone house to house to borrow strings from everyone in town for the night.
The whole green space had been set up to funnel people toward the freshly completed amphitheater, where music was being piped over the PA.
All around us, vendors called out for barbecue plates, burgers, and fried pies; kids pinwheeled through legs, trailing biodegradable glitter confetti the Sasspatch Society had “accidentally” made available in bulk.
The air tasted like smoke and sugar and the kind of relief when a storm finally breaks.
Uncle Dee stood at my elbow in a peacock-blue jacket that could flag down aircraft, studying the crowd like a general counting troops.
I didn’t bother playing coy. “You were exactly right.”
He flashed his trademark feline smile, which now reminded me alarmingly of Shrimp Po-boy. “Of course I was, darling.” He tipped his chin toward the milling crowd—mostly locals but with some tourists mixed in. “Look at them. The whole town needed this like lungs need air.”
“They’ve pulled off a miracle,” Emmaline said.
“We pulled off a miracle.” Uncle Dee patted both our shoulders. “Now, you and your sweet bride better snag your seats in the front row for when the Sasspatch Society brings the house down.”
Emmaline grinned. “Can’t wait.”
“It’s going to be epic,” he declared, already turning toward the ramp.
“I’d expect nothing less,” I told him.
He blew a kiss at both of us and scurried off with the focused bustle of a man about to conduct controlled fireworks.
My wife slipped her arm through mine, still grinning. “I adore your uncle.”
I curled my fingers around hers where they settled in the crook of my elbow. “He is a fucking delight, even when—or maybe especially when—he’s causing mayhem. You ever see one of their full performances?”
“I have not, but I’ve heard amazing things.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re in for a treat.”
It was good to see Emmaline smile. There hadn’t been much of it in the past week since she’d come back from her latest visit to her brother.
She hadn’t wanted to talk about it, and I hadn’t pressed, chalking it up to anxiety about the impending parole hearing.
What was there to say? The board would either grant or deny Wesley’s release.
That would mostly be up to him, and I didn’t think she’d find that comforting.
Maybe tonight would help her get her out of her own head.
We strolled through rows of food vendors, discussing options for supper between offering greetings to friends, neighbors, and family—both Gibson and Maddox alike.
I wasn’t under any delusion that our little cookout was going to end the feud for good, but I was a little less on edge about the idea that something was gonna happen tonight.
Only a little, because there still hadn’t been obvious signs of what Marla and Karen were up to.
I was banking on them not planning to show their asses during the festivities tonight, given how poorly that had gone during the Summer Stomp.
“Emmaline! Bodie!” Roxie flounced over in a multicolored skirt that swirled like a kaleidoscope with each step, flowers woven through her dark hair in a crown.
Emmaline laughed, her face lighting up. “I see you got the memo to go for colorful.”
Her cousin twirled with theatrical flair, making the skirt bell out in a perfect circle around her legs.
The fabric caught the early evening light, reflecting every shade from deep red to bright yellow.
“The Sasspatch Society memo said bold, so I said ‘Yes, ma’ams!’ and raided every thrift store between here and Asheville. ”
“Capitulation is the only correct answer when the Sasspatch Society issues a decree,” came a familiar voice from behind us, tinged with amusement and just a hint of exhaustion.
We all turned at the sound, and my face split into a genuine smile that reached all the way down to my boots. “Alia.”
Releasing my wife’s hand, I pulled my twin in for a long, careful hug, mindful not to squish Biscuit, where the tiny dog was strapped to Alia’s chest. Something in me settled at the contact.
We hadn’t been joined at the hip since we were little, but I’d still been accustomed to having her in my daily life.
No matter how happy she was in Charleston with Ramsey, her absence left a hole in the fabric of my everyday existence that I noticed more every time she came home.
“Wasn’t sure y’all were gonna make it.”
“We weren’t sure either, honestly.” She let me go with a soft pat to my shoulder, only to pull a surprised Emmaline in for an equally warm embrace. “But we lucked out that this is Ramsey’s only off weekend for the next six weeks.”
Ramsey stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Hey, brother.”
I took it gladly and let him yank me in for one of those back-slapping bro hugs that spoke to years of friendship and shared history. The familiar ritual of it, the solid weight of his friendship, was another piece snapping back into place. “Good to see you, man. Really good.”
“Damned straight. It’s nice to be back in the Hollow, even if it’s just for a couple of days.”
“Roxie, it’s good to see you.” Alia’s voice carried that smooth, diplomatic tone she’d perfected during her years of managing family crises and town politics.
She spoke as if she were greeting an old friend instead of a member of the clan who’d been feuding with ours for over a hundred and fifty years.
Roxie’s eyes widened with something that looked like delighted surprise, her cheeks flushing pink beneath her flower crown. “Nice to see you too, Alia. Um, I hope this isn’t too untoward of me to say, but I absolutely love your books. I’ve read every single one, some of them twice.”
My sister’s face transformed with a smile that was far more relaxed and genuine than it had been when the news of her secret author identity had first exploded across social media months ago.
“I’m so glad to hear that. Thank you for saying so.
It never gets old hearing from readers. If you’d like, I could get you an autographed copy of whichever one is your favorite. ”
“That would be amazing.” Roxie’s whole face lit up. “And honestly, I love them all, so dealer’s choice. Whatever you feel like signing, I’ll treasure it.”
“Perfect. I’ll be sure to get it to Emmaline, and she can get it to you.” Alia’s response was warm and easy, the kind of gracious author interaction that probably came more naturally to her than she realized.
“Thank you so much.” Roxie linked her arm through Emmaline’s and glanced at me. “I need to borrow your wife for a bit. Aunt Viv has requested our presence.”
I was already grinning at hearing someone else call Emmaline my wife. “Take your time. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
The three of us stood watching as Roxie led her away through the growing crowd, their voices trailing behind them as they navigated between families spreading blankets on the grass and children running in circles with glow sticks already activated despite the lingering daylight.
“Never thought I’d see the day when Gibsons and Maddoxes would be calmly chatting in public like that.
” Alia shifted to adjust Biscuit’s position against her chest, scratching her silky head.
Then she fixed me with that penetrating twin gaze she’d held off on during the initial greetings.
“You look happy, Bodie. Like, really genuinely happy.”
“I am really happy.” It surprised me how much weight those simple words carried. “Happier than I’ve been in years, if I’m being honest.”
My sister arched one dark brow in that way that had always meant she was about to dig deeper. “Should I be worried about that?”
I appreciated that she asked the question directly instead of jumping straight to telling me I’d lost my mind, especially since she knew the full truth of how this marriage had begun.
“We’re giving it a real go.”
My twin’s expression didn’t change, but I watched her processing the information, weighing it against what she knew of my history and my tendency toward emotional self-protection.
“You don’t look surprised,” I observed.
“Hmm.” A knowing smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “My spies suspected as much. Those being Blair and Uncle Dee, who have been conducting some kind of informal surveillance operation and reporting back to me with regular updates. But it’s nice to see the evidence with my own eyes.”
“I should’ve known you’d be well-informed about everything happening in my personal life.” I wasn’t really annoyed. If anything, I was touched that she cared enough to keep tabs on me from a distance.
Alia tapped a finger to her nose and winked.
“Gotta keep my finger on the pulse of what’s going on at home, even if I’m not physically here to be in the middle of it anymore.
But anyway, I’m happy for you. I’ve always liked Emmaline, family drama aside, and I hope this works out as well for you as things worked out for Ramsey and me. ”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed, giving in to Biscuit’s demanding yip and scratching beneath her chin. “This is one of those occasions when I really hope your annoying habit of being right about everything proves dead-on accurate.”
“Ali!!!!!” Blair’s delighted shriek cut across the festival green like a sonic boom, causing several nearby conversations to pause and heads to turn.
“And there’s my cue.” Alia laughed, already stepping away. “I’m being summoned. You boys try not to get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”
I glanced over at Ramsey, taking in his relaxed posture and the contentment written across his features. “I haven’t checked in with you as much as I should have lately. How’s she really doing?”
“No worries. You’ve had a pretty full plate. Alia’s doing great. Honestly, better than great. She’s neck-deep in plotting out the next series, and she’s blooming.”
“You had a lot to do with that.”
Ramsey’s entire face lit up with a grin that could have powered half the town. “I’m absolutely crazy about her, man.”
My focus drifted to where Emmaline stood in animated conversation with Roxie and Aunt Viv near the dessert booth.
Ramsey followed my gaze. “So you two are really gonna make a genuine go of it?”
“I’m in love with her.” The words came out easier than I’d expected, carrying the weight of years of buried feelings and recent revelations. “I think I have been for years.”
Ramsey clapped me on the shoulder. “I know something about that.”
Ten years he’d been in love with Alia, and I hadn’t had a clue. “Yeah, I guess you do know exactly what that’s like.”
We stood in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the festival come alive around us.
“So tell me what all’s been done since we were last here.”
I fell into step beside him as we began a slow circuit of downtown.
“Most of the Main Street storefronts are operational again, though some are still running on temporary fixes. We’re three or four streets over with repairs and renovations.
The library’s about to be gutted for a full overhaul—the flooding did too much structural damage for anything less than a complete renovation.
They converted an old school bus into a mobile library for the time being to house the books from the collection that weren’t ruined. ”
“That’s a pretty cool solution.”
“It’s done surprisingly well, considering the circumstances.
Kids especially love it—something about getting books from a big yellow bus just appeals to them.
” I pointed toward the area where construction equipment was still visible behind temporary fencing.
“There’s obviously more work to be done, recruiting new businesses to replace the ones who weren’t able to rebuild, and I expect we’ll be working on infrastructure improvements for a few more years yet.
But it’s starting to seem normal again instead of like we’re just surviving day to day. ”
I turned to face him fully. “So tell me how training’s going this season. What’s the team looking like? Are y’all gonna be able to make another playoff run?”
We chatted about football and family, about the challenges of balancing career demands with marriage, about the strange satisfaction of watching a community rebuild itself from the ground up.
The conversation flowed with the easy rhythm of old friendship, punctuated by waves and greetings as various townspeople stopped by to welcome Ramsey back and congratulate me on my marriage.
Just as Ramsey was launching into a story about Biscuit’s latest antics, Miss Glory’s voice crackled over the PA system with characteristic dramatic flair: “Ladies, gentlemen, and fabulous creatures of all descriptions, we have ourselves a five-minute warning before the official festivities commence. Find your people, grab your libations, and prepare yourselves for an evening of music, merriment, and mild mayhem courtesy of your beloved Sasspatch Society!”
Five minutes later we’d found our seats, and the amphitheater had settled into that fizzy hush before a show.
Then the amphitheater lights dropped, and the Sasspatch Society stormed the stage like a glittered hurricane.
Sequins and rhinestones caught the spotlights, wigs towered higher than common sense should allow, and voices that could rattle stained glass soared into the night.
Their revue was a love letter to resilience itself—anthem after anthem that had the whole town on its feet, clapping, stomping, hollering until the green shook.
Beside me, Emmaline laughed with her head tipped back, her hand warm in mine, and for the first time in a long time, Gibson Hollow didn’t feel like a place weighed down by loss. It felt buoyant. Alive. Just what we’d all been starving for.
And as the final note rang out and confetti rained down like stardust, I thought, not for the first time, that maybe my life was finally—finally—on the right track.