“That’s a big dream,” she replied, not adding for a refugee. It was a big dream for anyone, frankly. But if anyone could pull it off, she believed Fawzia could. She’d made the mistake of challenging her to a footrace at the beach and been soundly trounced; the kid was like nothing she’d ever seen, even barefoot on the sand. It was like her legs took on a different state of matter when she ran; she was liquid. She flew. “I didn’t know Somalia had ever had athletes participate in the Olympics.”
Fawzia tipped her head. “Many people go to other countries, where it’s safer. That’s what Samia was trying to do when she died. Al-Shabaab, they threatened her, and she drowned trying to get to Italy.”
“I’m sorry,” Ainsley murmured, and she truly was. Oppression was everywhere. What the Sadiqs had experienced in Somalia was far beyond her high school experience. It was almost too big and too sad to think about. Fawzia must have seen her countenance fall, because she went back to a happier subject.
“Allyson beat Usain Bolt’s record for most gold medals, too.”
Ainsley felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. “She did? That’s awesome.”
“Yes, and she’d just had a baby less than a year before.”
“Holy hobbits,” Ainsley said, taking a harder look at the woman in the poster. “That’s really something, Fawzia.”
“Yeah, I know. She’s my hero.”
“Well, you have good taste.”
“Thank you.” The girl smiled, but it quickly fell when her gaze dropped to her book bag, and she sighed. “Why didn’t they invite me?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I bet that feels pretty bad.” She pulled the girl to her side, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “Maybe we could go shopping for some stuff for your new room that weekend? My treat.”
“Really?”
Ainsley nodded, and Fawzia flung her arms around her. Ainsley loved being the recipient of such ardent affection, even if it was motivated by the idea of getting free stuff. Kid love was like that sometimes. “If nothing else, you need a new quilt, girl. This one’s not our style at all, is it?”
Fawzia shook her head violently, and they both laughed.
FRIDAY NIGHT, AINSLEY went to the town meeting. She needed to talk to Councilman Rogers about the fall festival again; it was coming up fast, and lots of people still hadn’t paid for their booths. If he made an announcement about it, surely a few would cough up the money, and then she wouldn’t have as many phone calls to make tomorrow. She put her coat across two seats at the front on the left. She knew Daniel was busy with Winnie tonight, signing the offer on the house they were interested in. It was a gorgeous Craftsman with a big yard backing up to the river. The house itself wasn’t in great shape, but it had good bones. Winnie was nervous about the inspection, she knew, but Daniel had his heart set on it, so they’d probably buy it regardless. Mrs. Foster’s kids didn’t have the money to make repairs, and they both had homes elsewhere in the area, so they didn’t want the property. Chances were good that they could get a deal on it.
Ainsley managed to track down two people she needed to talk to, Mr. Braverman and Mr. Jacobs, about the route for the fun run for the fall festival; several people had complained last year that the route blocked the road to the falls, and some out-of-towners hadn’t been able to get to the state park. By the time they wrapped up their conversation, the meeting had started, and Ainsley slid into her seat quietly. No Kyle? Maybe he hadn’t been able to make it after all; she knew it was tight for him to come and still make it to work on time.
She turned her attention to Councilman Park, who was plugging her mother’s giving tree project again. She’d meant to sign up for a family, but she’d forgotten again. Lately, it felt like she was being pulled in so many directions, her attention was even more scattered than usual. Also, she should really ask her mother for a family whose kids had never been in her class, lest she appear to be showing favoritism.
“Dr. Durand, did you have an announcement?”
Her head whipped to the right, in direction of his gaze. Kyle stood up.
“Yes, I’m looking for someone to help me in the medical tent for the fall festival. No medical background is necessary.”
“Okay, yes. Good. If someone could please step up and fill that need, we’d all appreciate it. Always good to have another set of hands in case we have another hypothermia incident like in ’98.” Mr. Park’s gaze fell on her, and she felt her face heat as his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Wasn’t Ainsley going to help?”
“After further discussion, that’s not going to work out.” Kyle sat down, never looking in her direction, never giving any indication that he even knew she was there.
“I see. Well, see Dr. Kyle Durand if you want to volunteer. I know Ainsley is also still waiting on some booth payments, so please see her tonight if you’ve got the cash in hand. It’s for a good cause, people. Let’s not forget that.” Ainsley couldn’t even be happy that Councilman Park had remembered her announcement. Had Kyle not seen her coat there, saving him a seat? She sat in the same place every week, it wasn’t like it was hard to find her. And his announcement, however well intentioned, had come off like he was trying to get rid of her. She struggled to focus on the rest of the meeting, and when they broke for refreshments, she tried to make her way over to Kyle as quickly as possible without looking like that was what she was doing. But she was too late; cookie in his mouth, he was already pulling on his jacket, heading out the door.
Ainsley: Where are you off to?
Kyle: Work.
Ainsley: Didn’t you see me? I saved you a seat.
Kyle: I saw you.
Ainsley: And?
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Not good. She blew her bangs out of her face and helped herself to three peanut butter cookies, her insecurities raging in the back of her mind. Not good. Not good at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“ALL RIGHT, LET’S SEE if we can get this sod done real quick,” said Ainsley, clapping her hands. “Grab a rake and we’ll get to work.” Things between them had been tense; their text messages were short, in all senses of the word. Being face-to-face didn’t seem to be helping matters, either.
“Don’t we need a soil test first?” he asked.
“Nope. This is the soil, that’s the sod. It’s a match made in heaven.”
Kyle scrolled through his phone, frowning. “Look, this article says we should pull all the weeds first, too, and it strongly recommends the soil test.”
“And yet,” she said, leaning on her rake, “I’ve been doing this a while, and I happen to know that it’ll be fine.”
“But the directions . . .”
Fed up, she threw down the rake and turned her back on Kyle. “Dad?” Ainsley called. “You ready to go? I’m starved. We should’ve left an hour ago.”
He called back something that Ainsley couldn’t really make out over the circular saw’s whine, and she spun around to face Kyle. “Do it however you want. I’m out. I can always fix it next week if you screw it up.”