I'll Stop the World (20)

Rose supposed she should be glad no reporters were skulking around the Food Mart yesterday. She could only imagine how they would’ve spun their fundraising efforts for Mrs. Hanley. Local Teens Harass Shoppers in Desperate Cash Grab, perhaps, or maybe, Lewis-Yin Family Caught Soliciting Gifts from Local Businesses.

She hadn’t known, at the beginning of the campaign, how bizarre this would all feel. Her dad and Diane had called a family meeting before she announced her candidacy, and while Rose and Lisa had been surprised at first, they’d all agreed it was a good idea. Being elected mayor of Stone Lake wasn’t exactly becoming president, but Diane had so many ideas about how she might use the role to improve life in their small town that they couldn’t help getting excited.

But now that the election was getting close, everything about it felt . . . weird.

It was weird to think of people voting for Diane; it was weird to think of people voting against Diane. It was weird to have strangers tell Rose how much they admired her stepmother, and it was weird to overhear people talking about her family like they weren’t even human.

Sometimes, Rose silently hoped Diane would lose, just so things could go back to normal. It was hard being someone people recognized and expected things from. Someone that strangers felt entitled to stop on the street and douse in their opinions. Before the campaign, she may have been anonymous, but at least people had left her alone.

Other times—like when she saw the scraps of abandoned police tape waving in the breeze around Mrs. Hanley’s blackened garage, or she looked through her AP reading list and realized there wasn’t a single author on it who hadn’t been dead for decades—she thought that if she had to live through one more second of “normal,” she’d lose her mind. On those days, she wanted Diane to win so badly, she could barely breathe.

She didn’t know what kind of day today was yet.

Rose shook her head, smoothing her hands over her skirt and taking a deep breath as Diane parked the car. If she kept thinking like this, she was going to give herself an upset stomach before this brunch even started.

“Ready?” her dad said excitedly, practically leaping out of the car. Rose was pretty sure Jim Yin had never expected to be a political spouse when he married first a kindergarten teacher, then a librarian, but sometimes it seemed like he was born to be one. He celebrated every step of Diane’s campaign like she had landed on the moon.

Rose hoisted Emmie out of the car and handed her to their dad, then followed her out, fixing what she hoped was a picture-perfect smile onto her face. “Ready.”





Chapter Eleven


LISA

Emerson’s Tearoom was a small building off the town square with lilac walls and lacy tablecloths. A cardboard sign in the front window read CLOSED FOR PRIVATE EVENT. Shawn stood in the middle of the room, looking perfectly at ease in khaki pants and a blue blazer, warm bronze hair gelled meticulously into place. His face lit up when Lisa walked in, and she did her best to return his smile, her chest tight.

When she closed her eyes, she could still feel the velvety softness of Charlene’s skin against her fingertips the night before, taste her sweetness on her lips. Could still hear her voice as her breath brushed Lisa’s ear. I lettuce you, too.

So Lisa kept her eyes wide open as she walked toward Shawn, letting him wrap her in a hug.

Meanwhile, Veronica bustled around the room like a nervous blonde bird, turquoise heels clacking against the tile floor as she adjusted chairs and muttered to the photographer.

“Rose! Lisa!” Veronica called, waving them toward the table, which was already filled with small plates of beautifully presented food. As Veronica rotated a tray of pancakes a fraction of an inch one way, then another, Lisa caught Rose’s eye and grimaced, wondering if they’d actually be allowed to eat at this brunch, or whether this was a see-and-smell-only kind of meal.

“Don’t touch that,” Veronica said, swatting the back of Shawn’s hand as he reached for a pile of bacon.

Well, that answered that question.

Shawn raised his eyebrows, sinking back into his seat beside Lisa. “So it’s a no-brunch brunch?” he whispered.

Lisa shrugged, folding her hands in her lap. With her eyes, she tracked the photographer, who paced slowly around the room with a bulky black camera hanging from his neck. There were no reporters here today; her mother had given her interview to the paper last week. All they needed was an image to run with the story. The reporter had suggested a family meal at a local restaurant, to show Diane engaging with both her family and the community at the same time.

When her mother and Jim had explained the purpose of the brunch to her and Rose, they’d told them it would be fun, and that they’d barely notice the photographer. Just a normal family outing.

Somehow, that’s not what it felt like.

Lisa looked around the elegant dining room, at the photographer adjusting his lights, Diane speaking quietly with Veronica, her father bouncing Emmie on his hip. She thought of all the people who would look at this photo in the paper, read the interview with Diane, and feel like they knew their family. Like they knew her.

When the truth was, her own family didn’t even know her.

Shawn reached for her hand under the table. She resisted the urge to pull away as he wove their fingers together. “This is more intense than I thought it would be,” he whispered.