Byron laughs again, and I get a warm, gooey feeling inside at the thought that I’ve helped him relax. “It’s a way to meet people, I suppose.”

I shake my head. “Now I’m going to be the crazy girl who arrived in a wedding dress and tried to get rid of a cat.”

He sighs, but he’s still smiling. “Yeah, there’s no escaping the town grapevine.”

“I suppose it’s nice in some ways.”

“It is?” he says, eyebrows raised.

“You know, people looking out for each other, in and out of each other’s kitchens, asking after each other’s kids and health conditions. It’s a community. I probably don’t need a megaphone. I probably need to tell three people, and the entire town will know about dear old Athena in no time.”

“It’s a community with a long memory,” he says, a look of resentment in his expression I just don’t understand.

“I bet you remember just as well.”

He shoots me a puzzled expression.

“Tell me about Rachel.” I nod to where she’s stacking sugar packets into bowls. Her pencil is back in its rightful place behind her ear. “She seems to know you. But I bet you know her too. Tell me something you remember about her.”

Byron sighs. “I don’t know. Her hair is a different shade of red every week. She never drinks apart from New Year’s, when she really lets loose. One year, the town placed bets on which track on the jukebox would have her dancing on the bar at Grizzly’s.”

I glance over at our waitress, who seems far from the bar-dancing type. “Was it ‘Sweet Caroline’?”

Byron chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “No. ‘Brown-Eyed Girl.’”

“You know, that doesn’t make me like her less. In fact, it has the opposite effect.”

Byron takes a forkful of egg but doesn’t respond.

“They must be really proud of you, though. The local boy who’s bringing jobs and tourists to the area.”

He takes a sip of his coffee. “They don’t see it like that.”

I wait for him to say more. I don’t want to change the subject this time.

“People in towns like Star Falls don’t like change.”

“You think they don’t like the idea of the Club? But you got the planning approvals and everything?”

“Sure. I’m bringing jobs and tourism to a part of the state that’s kind of been abandoned. And the building is respectful to the local area. The building materials have been chosen because they’re locally sourced and sustainable, and won’t detract from the beauty of the place.” He sounds resentful, like he’s trying to convince me he’s done something good. But I’m not the right audience for his argument.

“You’re getting pushback?”