I’m not sure what I ever did to deserve this man smiling at me like that. Like I’m the one person he most wants to see. But somehow amongst my questionable decisions and shitty attitude, I must have managed to do something right.

Brenden steps closer when I reach him, as if he might hug or kiss me. Then he stops, catching himself, and just says, “Hey.”

May’s grandparents both greet me simply as well, while May gives me a smile to rival her dad’s. My face is doing something funny, almost unfamiliar, as I greet them all back. It takes me half a second to realize I’m smiling. I’m smiling, and it’s not forced at all. I’m smiling, and I mean it.

Yes, I do smile on occasion. Especially when Brenden’s around. But something about this moment feels different. Important. It feels like I’m a part of their group, like I belong here with these people. People whose company I actually enjoy, even Elise and Grant. And people who somehow, inexplicably, seem to enjoy my company in return.

Turns out I kind of like this feeling. Who knew.

Brenden’s eyes are curious as he watches me, as if he can tell there’s some weird inner workings going on in my mind. Rather than share anything I’m thinking though, I ask if everyone’s ready to check out the festival, and Brenden tells May to lead the way.

She heads off, bypassing and weaving around booths like she knows exactly where she wants her first stop to be. When she comes to a halt in front of a plain looking booth, I glance up at the small wooden sign hanging over it that features nothing but a painted illustration of a cinnamon roll.

Colleen Barlow stands alone in the booth, ready to greet us. She’s in her fifties, teaches second grade at the elementary school, and is known around town for these cinnamon rolls. She could probably put the bakery out of business if she wanted to, but she says she only bakes for the joy of it and that baking for a profit would ruin that joy.

Although I’m sure she makes a killing selling at the festivals. I always hear people complaining afterward about how she sold out before they could get to her. That’s probably why May ran directly here.

Brenden looks equally as excited as May as the two of them peer at the display of obscenely enormous cinnamon rolls. They’re practically drooling.

Elise, however, isn’t impressed. “Shouldn’t we have something substantial for lunch before you eat sweets?”

“Grandma, you have to get them before they sell out,” May insists.

“It’s true,” Brenden says, backing her up. “Trust me, you guys don’t wanna miss out on one of these.”

Grant looks from the giant pastries to Brenden. “I think I’ll pass.”