Page 61 of The Neighborly Thing To Do
“Why is this town business?” Sarah calls, and I am going to bake this woman a giant cake tomorrow. If there is a tomorrow. No—can’t think like that. “He doesn’t own the house, he tried to buy it, she said no. Sounds to me like the matter is closed.”
There’s some whispers around the room. Am I being overly hopeful in thinking they’re of agreement?
“The question is, can a human own property in Hearthstone?” Mayor Davies re-frames. “Historically, we have never allowed it to happen before.”
“Then you should have brought it up ten years ago. But you needed something from Cassidy then, didn’t you?” Finn growls. I lean closer into him.
“I suppose we should start with Hugh, then,” the mayor continues like he never heard Finn. “Hugh, would you like to say anything?”
Hugh straightens the sport coat he’s wearing and steps closer to Mayor Davies’ podium. “I was born here,” he begins. “And I was raised here. And I left for a while to seek my fortune. Opportunities in Hearthstone weren’t great back then. But now I’ve made my money. I’ve been quite successful, actually, and I want to bring that success back to Hearthstone. Opportunities still aren’t what they should be for our young people. As a member of your community, I’d invest in what matters most to us. And all my plans start with the property on Maple Drive.”
He looks around the audience, eyes skipping right over me. I can’t blame him; I’m nearly vibrating with the force of keeping my mouth shut.
“Hearthstone is a limited resource,” he says. “There’s only so much land. We don’t have room to expand, despite the growing needs of our population. If we’re going to become competitive in the modern world, if we’re ever going to move beyond merely surviving, then we need the land. And the fact is that Cassidy doesn’t need it. She could live anywhere. Sheshouldlive anywhere else. The human world is wide open to her.”
Eyes shift to me, but I refuse to look away from Hugh. I refuse to let him see me flinch.
“This isn’t about Cassidy,” he continues. “It’s about what our town is for. What our purpose here is. And our purpose isn’t to house humans. I don’t wish her any ill-will, and I’ll pay generously for the land. But we need to think about why this town was founded in the first place. And that was to serveus. To be a place where we could thrive. I can help Hearthstone do that, but I can’t if I’m kept out by a human.”
There’s a low whispering around me at that. Hugh dips his head, murmuring, “Thank you,” as he walks away from the podium.
He thinks he already won and I know it, and the thing is, I’m not sure if he’s wrong. He’s making big promises, and I can’t see how this town won’t be tempted. What do I have to offer them? Nothing.
Mayor Davies looks at me, floating a few feet from his podium. “Cassidy?”
Finn presses against my back, then leans down to kiss the crown of my head. “You got this,” he murmurs.
I can feel the eyes on me as I make my way to the podium, itching as they burrow into my skin. These people know me. These people trust me. Is it enough?
I put my hands on either side of the podium, using the wood to steady myself, and scramble for something to say. I should have rehearsed this. I should have written a script.
“Hearthstone is my home,” I say slowly. “I’ve lived here, paid taxes here, baked for your school bake sales, and participated in community clean up days. I work in your market. I say hi to you on the street. I’ve been a good neighbor. I raised Georgia here. And I’m sorry I wasn’t born a shifter like my dad. It seems like you’ve reluctantly tolerated my existence my whole life because of that fact. I know I’m not what you expected when DerekWright said he was going to have a kid, but I’m done being someone you reluctantly accept because you have to. I have given as much to Hearthstone as anyone. Someday, I’ll have more kids, and they won’t be able to live anywhere else.” I dart a glance at Finn to see if he reacts, and he smiles at me, completely not freaked out by me talking about us having kids someday. “And I want to raise them in that house. The one G and I made special. With a height chart penciled on the bathroom door and my paintings and the tire swing in the back of the yard.”
I dare to look around the audience. Sarah Delaney looks at me with a kind, motherly expression in her eyes. Caroline nods while I’m talking. The old ladies who I see every day at the market all give me soft smiles. My spirits rise, and my hands shake a little less.
This is my home. These are my people.
“But the fact of the matter is, it shouldn’t matter if I have kids here or not. My marriage to Finn shouldn’t be what makes you want to let me stay.” Maybe I’m shooting myself in the foot, but I have to say my piece. “If you’d get rid of me for promises of money that probably won’t ever find its way into your pocket, then I don’t know what to say to you.”
I scan the crowd again. The old ladies are nodding more fervently now, but some of the younger people in the back aren’t reacting. Are they merely less expressive, or are they siding with Hugh?
I finally look back at Finn, who’s watching me with a mix of adoration and pride that makes me choke up for a second. I open my mouth, trying to gather my thoughts and find a way to finish this off strong, when the cafeteria door swings open. “Am I late?” a voice calls, and the crowd parts as my heart beats a hundred miles an hour.
Georgia. But how? Why? How did she get here?
Sure enough, G pushes through the crowd, appearing like a figment of my imagination. She has yet another streak of blue in her hair, and her eyes are wild as she takes everything in. “Oh,” she says, smiling now. “You’re still here. Good.”
“G?” Why is she here?Howis she here?
She doesn’t acknowledge me. “Not to interrupt,” Georgia says, turning to the mayor now. “But considering it’s half my house, too, I thought I deserved a chance to speak.” Georgia flicks her hand and the podium drags away from me, pulled to her with an invisible rope. I raise my eyebrow. That’s a new trick. Is that the type of thing you learn at magic college?
She settles behind the podium like a professor getting ready to give a lecture. “Every single person here should be ashamed of themselves,” she begins and I jolt. “For letting things get this far. For actually debating my sister’s right to live in the house sheowns. The one she raised me in. That’s our home, and for you to think that she doesn’t matter and you can get rid of her now that you don’t need her anymore? Disgusting.”
Everyone is so quiet that I could hear a pin drop. I’m standing like an idiot at the front of the room, standing behind a podium that isn’t there anymore, mouth open, watching my little sister lecture a room of grown adults.
“Hugh doesn’t have any real claim to that house,” she adds. “My father bought it, and when my mother married him, it became their house. Hugh never owned it, never lived there. It’s not his house.”
Georgia is so frustrated now that literal sparks are flying from her skin, an anger response I haven’t seen in years. She got that under control sometime in middle school, but now here she is, her magic manifesting to warn everyone that she’s both angry and dangerous.
