I looked affectionately at the picture in front of me. “You’re not wrong.”
Alexis looked up and shut the album with a dramatic flair. “Did I read your text this morning correctly? Are you really helping Dean Knox-Morelli clean the abandoned lot next to Linda’s house?”
“Looks like it,” I said. “Although most of the neighbors have been helping, and I think it’s likely we’ll be done with the trash-removal part in a few days. The harder part is organizing what they want to put in there. Dean said the city doesn’t care, so they’ve got free rein.” I propped my chin in my hand as I colored in a unicorn’s tail. “I told him about the stories I did on pocket parks in Baltimore. Mini green spaces. And I called Linda, who was sunbathing on the beach in Wildwood. She was relieved to know we were doing something about it, said she loved the idea of flowers or trees that would attract more birds and butterflies.”
“It’s a great idea,” Alexis said. “We could swing by one of these days and talk to Dean about the community gardens at the school.”
“It’s changed everything for the kids,” Eric added. He slid his elbows onto the table. “To be able to go to school and grow things, to watch the transformation, to work together on a project with real results you can touch and see and smell. Or even to eat. And for that part of the parking lot to not just be a hot slab of asphalt filled with Coke bottles and straw wrappers. But something green and alive.”
I nodded enthusiastically. “And Dean is, like, the perfect person to tackle this thing. I don’t think he notices how much his neighbors look up to him as a leader.”
Alexis arched a blond eyebrow my way, clearly amused.
What? I mouthed.
Nothing,she mouthed back, with the slyest grin I’d ever seen.
We let out a rousing cheer as Dad dropped off our delicious-smelling food for us.
“Gimme fifteen minutes, then I’ll clock out and come eat with you guys,” he said. “Kathleen is rushing over to see the photo album.”
I popped a french fry into my mouth. “She will not be disappointed.”
Juliet looked up from her grilled cheese. Her curls were in two tiny, poofy pigtails that sat on top of her head. “Are you taking our picture?”
I chewed, swallowed. “What, sweetheart?”
She pointed to the camera I had slung across my shoulder.
“I totally forgot I brought this.” I popped off the lens and peered through the viewfinder at Juliet, who was posing for the camera. “Do you want one of just you or with your mom and dad?”
She scrunched up her nose and said, “With them, Aunty Tabby.”
“You got it, kiddo.” I made the universal scoot in close gesture. Eric wrapped his arm around my sister and pulled her in. Juliet popped onto his lap, and he rested his chin on top of her head.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
“Ready,” Juliet said. “Say cheese.”
I laughed. “I say that part.”
“Say cheese!” she yelled.
The shutter went click. I checked the digital screen to see how the first one came out. I’d caught all three of them mid-laugh.
My heart swelled at the image, stirring up my jumbled thoughts from earlier. It was like my brain was now refusing to acknowledge the boundary I’d carefully constructed after I moved away.
Alexis and Eric were definitely a story—two people who fell in love in college while bonding over their commitment to public service. Teachers who fought for their students, who listened to their needs and met them without judgment. They marched and protested, did park cleanups, and led voter registrations. And every year, on June first, my sister had rainbow-colored cupcakes delivered to whatever random address I was staying in.
For a person who valued the joy of community so much, I sure was missing a lot of it here.
“How does it look?” Alexis asked.
I grinned through the tight grip on my throat and passed her the camera. She and Eric lit up when they saw it. Juliet was less impressed and eagerly went back to her coloring.
“Pop-Pop says you take pictures as your job,” she said, her little face screwed up in concentration.
“That’s a pretty good explanation,” I said. “I take lots of pictures, but mostly I take videos and make little movies for people to watch.”