Shelby had spent the slow hours at the diner doing what she did anytime she felt stressed: cleaning and organizing. It started with a deep clean of all the booth tables and the bar. They all had a crazy pattern on top and it was really hard to see all the coffee rings and food particles stuck to it unless you got close and scrubbed. It was disgusting. After that she refilled all the napkin dispensers at each table, topped off the ketchup bottles from the big container in the back. When she tried going through things in the kitchen, Noel shooed her out. He was pretty territorial.

It didn’t really help. The mindless tasks just gave her more time to work out how she was going to convince Bubba to let her keep her house. So far, her game plan was to just make more promises, look really pitiful, and act like there was more money coming in from somewhere. Soon. Maybe she had a great aunt in West Texas who was about to die? Bubba wouldn’t know. That might buy a few more months. A year maybe.

That wasn’t helping. The stress only mounted as the afternoon hours counted down. She turned to the book she brought with her that morning. Books always helped. She stood behind the counter, reading with one hand and wiping down the already clean surface with the other, when the bell chimed. She looked up with annoyance. Who comes in at three o’clock? Too early for dinner, too late for lunch. Her heart slammed into her ribs as Jake stepped blinking into the building, the afternoon sun glowing behind him, highlighting the red in his hair.

“Hey, City,” Shelby called.

He blinked again and stepped inside. “Shelby? You work here?”

“Yep. And I’m sorry, but if you don’t have a reservation, we’re booked through Wednesday.”

He looked around the empty vinyl booths. “Okay. But can I, uh, sit at the counter?”

“Gee, the counter reservations are full through Thursday. Of next week.”

He stood staring at her. “Shelby?”

She rolled her eyes. “Jokes, City, jokes. Sit wherever. You’re the only person likely to be here ‘til the silver rush at four-thirty.”

“Silver rush?”

“You know, old folks. The seniors, as they like to be called.”

He sat down at the counter in front of her, setting his laptop bag in the seat beside him.

“We don’t have wifi,” she said.

“That’s okay. I’m done working for now.” He picked up her book, My Name Is Memory. It was another by Ann Brashares. After finishing The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants in the wee hours of the morning and wanted to stick with the same author. “This any good?”

“It’s kind of surprisingly good,” she said. “It’s about this guy who falls in love with this woman and then follows her throughout time, hopping from body to body, kind of. He knows it’s her, but she doesn’t know it’s him.”

“Does it ever work out?”

“I’m not done yet. Books usually have happy endings, but I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Star Wars,” he said, absently.

She smiled, leaning on the counter. “But which one?”

“I’m pretty sure all of them.” He set her book down and smiled. “What’s good here? I haven’t eaten since a very delicious breakfast.”

She passed him a laminated menu. “Well, the breakfast is good. I mean, if you aren’t overly breakfasted yet. Also, the chicken fried steak and the BLAT.”

“Like a BLT with...?”

“Avocado.”

“I’ll have that.” He pushed the menu back and as he did, their fingertips brushed across each other. She sucked in a breath. Even the smallest touch from him set her skin on fire. Did he feel that too? He didn’t seem affected.

Turning to the window behind her, she called back to Noel: “Hey, buddy, got a BLAT.”

He groaned and set aside his newspaper. “It’s three in the afternoon. Break time.”

“What can I say. Break’s over. Should take up a good eight minutes of your reading time? Just for your trouble, make it two.”

Noel groaned. When she turned back around, Jake studied her face. She got him a glass of water just to break up his gaze. Maybe it was just that he was someone new, someone not from Lucky, but he was very good at setting her on edge. At the same time, their conversation was easy, unforced. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a conversation about books with anyone or quoted movies or books to people. Or showed anyone her library.

“So what kind of work do you do?” she asked. “I mean, especially here in Lucky. As you can clearly see, not much here.”

“I was just passing through,” Jake said.

“Try again. No one’s passing through Lucky. Our town motto might as well be The Most Out of the Way Town in Texas.”

He swallowed. “I like scenic drives. I was on one when my car broke down. Matt and Slim picked me up.”

“The Lucky welcoming committee? Were they welcoming?”

“Until I said I was staying with you. Then I think Matt wanted to skin me.”

“Don’t mind him.”

“Oh, I won’t be here long enough to.”

Shelby frowned down at the counter, using a rag to wipe up a coffee ring. “When are you leaving? Just so, you know, I can have the trailer ready for the next guest.”

He looked at her funny. Valid. His was the first reservation and she’d had the place listed for a year. She’d said it herself—no one was just passing through Lucky.

“As soon as they get the car fixed. Should take a few days. I’ll be happy to just pay you a weekly rate, even if I don’t use it. That way you aren’t losing any income.”

She swallowed. A whole week would be a few hundred dollars. “I don’t need you to do that,” she said. He had to know the trailer wasn’t in high demand.

“It’s fine. Only fair,” he said. “Would you rather I put it on a card through the app? Or I have cash if that keeps them from taking out a percent or something.”

He pulled out his wallet and pulled three one-hundred dollar bills from his wallet. Looked like they weren’t the only ones either. Shelby swallowed.

“Who are you? Why do you have so much cash? That’s not safe.”

He looked startled. “Oh. I, uh, always travel with lots of cash. Just in case. Places don’t always take cards. You know.”

“We don’t take cards,” she said.

“See? There you go.”

As her hand hovered over the money he pushed it harder her way. Noel rang the bell behind her for the order.

She took the bills and folded them into her tip pocket in the apron. “Thank you,” she said. “And for what it’s worth, I hope you do stay a week. Or at least... a few days. I mean, if it doesn’t mess up your road trip or whatever.”

His eyebrows shot up and his blue eyes looked surprised. Shelby turned back toward Noel and the BLATs so she could avoid Jake’s gaze. Why did she say that? Why couldn’t she just stop talking? She passed Jake his plate, looking down at the counter. She couldn’t stand to see his face right now.

“You’re eating too?” he asked. “Want to get a booth?”

“Uh, technically I’m working. So...”

“Go sit with the nice young man,” Noel shouted from the back.

“Okay, then,” she said smiling.

Jake took both of their plates and carried them over to a booth. It was odd to be sitting in the booth when she was normally hovering over it, refilling coffee or taking down orders. The diner looked different.

Jake smiled and was about to take a bite of his BLAT when Shelby grabbed his arm.

“Grace!” Shelby said. He dropped the sandwich.

“What?” He looked startled. Again. He kept doing that. Was she so odd and unexpected? Apparently.

“I’m working on saying grace before meals. Is that okay?”

“That’s great,” he said. “Do you want to say it or do you want me to?”

“You…want to?” Now she was surprised.

“Sure.” He reached a hand across the table and she realized that he was waiting for hers. When she didn’t move, he wiggled his finger. “This is how we do it in Chicago. Holding hands.”

Her cheeks flushed a little but she put her hand in his. She wished that she hadn’t, though, because she couldn’t focus on the prayer, distracted by how good it felt to have his fingers curled around hers. It made her heart feel fluttery, but more than that, something about Jake made her feel solid. Safe.

“Lord, thanks for this food and for Shelby and the town of Lucky. Bless our time and this conversation. Amen.”

Jake gave her hand a squeeze and then released. She jerked it back to her side of the table, hoping that he couldn’t see from her face how the simple touch affected her. Clearly, she didn’t get out much.

“That was fast,” she said. “I mean, simple. It was good. Good simple.”

“Thanks…I think?” He looked unsure about whether or not it was a compliment, but smiled anyway.

“It’s a good thing, promise. Confession: sometimes I fall asleep during the prayers at church. They’re just so long and the pastor uses so many big words. I like short and sweet. It seems more honest and real. How’s your BLAT?”

He rolled his eyes back in his head, then talked around the food in his mouth. “This is insane. I don’t know how I survived without one of these.”

“They don’t have these in your big, fancy city?”

“I mean, maybe somewhere. But avocados are hard to find in Chicago. I mean they have them, but just not lots and they’re expensive most of the time. Not on the menu in most places. I might need a second.”

“Noel!” Shelby shouted.

“Oh, you don’t need to—” Jake started.

Noel stuck his head out of the kitchen door. “You rang?”

“City Boy’s going to need another BLAT. They don’t have avocados in the North, apparently.”

Jake looked embarrassed, but Noel grinned. “Well, now. One more BLAT coming right up.”

Shelby licked a bit of avocado off a finger. She caught Jake watching, but his eyes dropped to the table when she noticed. “So, how’d you spend your day in Lucky?” she asked.

“Well, I checked on my car, which won’t be ready for at least three more days. Had to order a part. I wandered around Main Street a bit, got my ear talked off by a few ladies outside the library, and hid out in the stacks so I could do some work.”

“The library has wifi now? I thought we were still living in the dark ages.”

He held up his phone. “I’ve got a mobile hot spot.”

“Oh,” she said. “So basically, you take the internet with you. That’s cool. Good for when you’re in places like Lucky. Do you come to small towns a lot?”

Just like every time she asked him about his work, his eyes seemed to shift away. “Sometimes,” he said. “Do you like living in a small town?”

Shelby began to laugh. “That’s a loaded question. It’s fine. I mean, I’ve never known anything else.”

“Have you ever traveled?”

“Nope.”

Jake stared. “Like, you’ve never been out of Texas? Or…”

“I’ve hardly been out of Lucky.”

Shelby tried to say this without any bitterness in her voice, but it was hard. She wasn’t being completely honest with Jake, dancing around his question the way he danced around her questions about his work. The truth was that she had always wanted to get out of Lucky. Always. Even if she came back, she wanted to see the world or at least the United States. The Airstream had been a big purchase, made just before her daddy came back and just before her mama left. The two of them bought it together, a four-years early graduation present. The plan was for Shelby and her best friend Gracielynn to take a road trip that summer before college.

Then Daddy came home. Mama left. Bills piled up. Graduation came and went, the Airstream sitting there like a permanent fixture. Gracie went off to college and Shelby simply stayed.

Jake studied her face and looked like he was going to ask her another question. She hoped he didn’t because she felt dangerously emotional right now. She hated thinking about what should have or could have been. There wasn’t a point in it.

“What’s there to do in Lucky at night?” Jake asked and Shelby was relieved to have a change of subjects.

“Cow tipping. Mudding. Drinking.”

“I don’t even know what those things are, other than drinking. Is cow tipping what it sounds like? Do they just fall over? And…mudding? Like, rolling in it or what?” His eyes got wide and Shelby laughed.

“You’re too easy, City. No one goes cow tipping. People do go mudding, but usually not at night. It’s like driving through the mud.”

“But why?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think it’s partly about trying to make it through a muddy field without getting stuck and partly to see who’s got the muddiest truck the next day. It’s fun. I can’t explain it. You’ll have to just try it.”

“Okay,” he said. He’d finished up the sandwich just as Noel dropped off another one with a wink at Shelby. But he didn’t say a word. “So that leaves drinking. I guess there’s really not much else to do out here?”

“Nope. We usually go to the Lucky Line on Tuesdays. Dollar drafts and line dancing. You want to come with us tonight?”

“I’m not really much of a dancer,” Jake said. “Or a drinker.”

“Just come. You can sit and watch. Or I’ll teach you. It’s super easy since everyone’s just doing the same thing, basically. Come on. You can’t visit a small town and not go to the honky-tonk bar. You need at least one story to bring home with you. Maybe you’ll even get in a bar fight!”

“Uh…”

She laughed again. “I swear, I’m having more fun with you. Are you that gullible or is it just me?”

Noel shouted from the back of the restaurant. “You’ve got that boy whipped just like every other boy in town, Shelby. Stop playing with him.”

Her face flamed and she threw a glare toward the kitchen. “Shut up, Noel! Get back to work.”

“You’re one to talk! Don’t you have to go soon?”

Shelby looked up at the clock above the diner counter. After time had been dragging all day, being with Jake made it zoom by. She stood and untied her apron.

Shelby sighed. “Look, City. I’ve got to go. Matt’s giving me a ride back home at like six and then we’ll all go after that. You in? Just say yes.”

“Yes,” Jake said.

“Meet me back here around six.”

“Where are you going?” he asked.

She made a face. “Nowhere fun. See ya.”

Shelby tossed her apron over the counter and headed for the door. As she left, Jake was taking up their plates and walking them back to kitchen for Noel. If she hadn’t been so nervous about the impending meeting, the sight would have warmed her heart. But her heart was too crowded to have room for that.

Shelby hated even the sight of the bank as it came into view up the street. Nothing good had ever come from there. Walking through its doors she felt the urge to cross herself, even though she wasn’t Catholic.

She bypassed the tellers and went straight to the secretary’s desk where Wanda had obviously been expecting her.

“Why, Shelby!” Her voice was overly sweet to the point of cloying.

“Don’t you ‘Why Shelby’ me. I have an appointment with Bubba. You know this. The calendar’s on your desk.”

Wanda pursed her lips. “I’ll just call him and see if he’s—”

Bubba poked his shiny bald head out of his office, where he could clearly hear everything. “No, need darlin’. Shelby dear, come on into my office where we can catch up.”

Again Shelby felt the need to cross herself. She wondered if wearing a necklace or garlic bulbs would have had any effect on Bubba Johnson, the President of First National Bank of Lucky. She probably shouldn’t have had so much animosity toward him, since any other bank probably would have taken her house months ago. But he’d been a good friend of her daddy’s before he came back. After he came home, Bubba didn’t talk to him. Didn’t come by the hospital or their home. Nothing. With her daddy’s brain situation, she didn’t know how much of his memory was sharp and how much was fuzzy, but he never brought up Bubba. Shelby, however, never forgot.

Not taking their house had maybe just been guilt for ditching her daddy when he needed people most.

“Sit yerself down, girl!” Bubba said. His voice had one setting and it was set for extra loud. Which meant Wanda and everyone else would be privy to anything said in this room. No wonder the whole town always knew everyone’s business. Wanda probably already had phone in hand.

“I’ll stand,” she said.

“Now Shelby. Don’t act as though I don’t know your Daddy and Mama your whole lives. I might have even changed a diaper or two.”

He winked at this, which made her furious. “Never would have known it if you hadn’t told me. Haven’t seen or heard from you in about ten years, Bubba. Other than official business.”

“Supposing not,” he said, and the smile disappeared. Time for business. He mopped his wide, shiny forehead with a bandana. He pushed a file away from him, but not quite all the way to her. “As you know, over the years, we have been very personally forgiving. With all your trials and tribulations, it was the least we could do.”

“We paid faithfully every month, just as much as we could pay.”

He continued as though she had not spoken a word. She wanted to smack that patronizing look off his face. It was the same look he gave at the Miss Lucky Pageant when announcing the runners up. A we-can’t-all-be-winners kind of look.

“But we are now in a position where we can no longer overlook what’s owed or give leniency toward your payments.”

“I’ve got a check right here for mortgage plus interest.” She put a check down on top of the folder he’d pushed her way, stabbing his finger at the desk pointedly. It wasn’t enough, but it was more than she had in her account. If they waited to clear it, her diner paycheck would bring the balance up. She could only hope. Bubba looked at it but did not touch it.

“Shelby, you have to understand. We already know what’s in your accounts. We know how much you have and how much you don’t. This has gone on long enough.”

“Take my money,” she said. “There’s more if you need it.”

There wasn’t, but she could do something. Sell her broken-down car, as it was maybe worth more than the nonexistent Lyft rides she’d been giving. She could sell maybe the back few acres where the land butted up against the Sabine, just a stone’s throw away from Louisiana.

Bubba gave a low laugh.

“I’m sorry, Shelby. It’s just too late, darlin. We would have repossessed anyway, but the town of Lucky is annexing your property.”

“What exactly does that mean? Annexing? The city can’t just take our land. That’s illegal.”

“It’s not if there is good reason. If the city needs it.”

Shelby scoffed. “Why would the city need my land? Are you drunk?”

Bubba held up his hands. “I can’t share all the details with you, but it’s legal and it’s done. Now, inside that folder, you’ll find a very generous check for the appraisal value of $178,000, give or take a few dollars. You and your Daddy should be able to find a nice house for that.”

Shelby snatched the folder off Bubba’s desk while he picked up his phone, checking messages. Sure enough, there was a check for $178, 947. Plus, some paper with legalese on it and Mayor McClure’s name. Of course that bloated toad had something to do with it. He and Bubba were buddies. Everyone knew they played golf at least once a week at the country club in Orange.

“You and your daddy have 45 days to vacate. But if you’d like to, I’ll even let you have more if you want to move that trailer a bit so they can get to work bulldozing the house—”

“You aren’t doing one thing to my house, you bulbous mass. Me and my daddy—”

“Have 45 days. I’m sorry it’s come to this, Shelby. If I could do it another way, I would. We tried, really we did.”

Bubba stood and held out a hand for shaking. The meeting was over. Desperation clawed at Shelby’s chest. She walked in thinking that things were probably bad, but she still couldn’t imagine that Bubba would take her house. Not really. Now it wasn’t just the bank she was dealing with, but the city and the mayor. Bubba made it sound like the whole thing was final.

“How can you do this? Just take someone’s land? I don’t understand.” Shelby’s voice was quiet. She hated the sound of it, because she knew it was the voice before the tears began.

Bubba, still standing, leaned across the desk like he was going to hug her. “Aw, sugar. Come here.” As Shelby watched him lean toward her, a single drop of his sweat beaded on the tip of his nose and fell on her check. The ink spelling out her name began to run.

Anger flared up, consuming her sadness. “Don’t you try to put a hand on me,” she seethed. Shelby snatched the folders up and clutched them to her chest as she threw open the door. Wanda almost fell inside as the door opened, the look on her face showing just how caught she was.

Normally Shelby would have given her an earful, but she couldn’t get her jaw to unclench. She stabbed a finger through the air, pointing in Wanda’s round face, but then stepped around her and walked through the doors of the bank without looking at anyone else inside. She figured she had about fifteen minutes before the whole town knew.

Outside the heat hit her like the warm blast from opening an oven door. She stormed down Main Street, walking right by the diner. She couldn’t go back in yet. Instead she ducked into a narrow alley between two brick buildings—the post office and a lawyer’s office. She pulled out her phone and called Gracielynn, her best friend and one of two real estate agents in town.

“Hey, I need real estate help,” Shelby said.

“Uh, sure. Are you…looking for a house?”

Shelby’s throat went dry. She would have to look for a house. “That’s not why I was calling. But yeah, I guess I have to look for a new place.”

“What?!”

“Do you know anything about land annexing?”

“Yeah, I mean, not a lot, but we did learn about it. Typically, it happens when a city or town needs a particular plot of land. They can claim it and then force you off, paying you a fair price based on appraisal. Why? Did that…Oh, Shelby. Tell me they didn’t annex your land.”

“So that’s it?” Shelby said. “They can just do it and it’s done?”

Gracielynn sounded like she was crying on the other end. “I’m so sorry. What can I do?”

Shelby slid down the wall until her butt was on the cement, next to a few cigarette butts and a dandelion flower that had sprouted in a crack. “Tomorrow can we look at houses? And tonight, we’re going to pretend like this isn’t happening and enjoy the Lucky Line. I’ve got a tall, handsome redhead staying in the Airstream and he’s coming with us.”

“What? A guy? Shelby, when did we last talk? How do I not know about all this?”

“We’ll catch up tonight. Or tomorrow. I may not want to talk tonight. Anyway, I’ve got dibs on the guy. He’s heading back to Chicago in a few days, but for now he’s just the distraction I need.”