“When?” Dave asked.
Ellen turned the flyer over. “Saturday. It’s a date?”
“Sure.”
Bryman’s Dry Cleanery was the oldest in Parkton, Texas. Since the flyer arrived, neighbor after neighbor declared their unclaimed-goods sales legendary.
“Seriously,” Francine from two-doors-down said. “Paul Bunyan, Headless Horseman, and Bryman’s. Except, maybe the Paul Bunyan is fake.”
“And the Horseman?” Dave asked.
Francine ignored him. “Seriously, make sure you camp overnight. Otherwise you’ll be left with keychains and odd socks.”
Friday night found them roasting marshmallows over a can of Sterno outside their tent. Four parties of two-to-four people were ahead of them. Francine was among the third group.
“We’re really doing this?” Dave asked.
“Thought you wanted to.”
“I do. It’s just are we becoming....” He gestured up the line.
“Francines?” Ellen whispered.
“Seriously.” He placed his marshmallow and a wedge of chocolate between graham cracker halves.
Ellen shook her head. “We moved here. We should participate in community events.”
“But maintain ironic detachment?”
“Well, we could stand to be less judgey.”
“S’mores?” Francine called down. “You guys are so clever. I was just saying to Ray, ‘That Dave and Ellen, bless their hearts, they’re so clever. And here you are having a real camp-out.’”
Dave and Ellen waved back.
“‘Bless your heart,’ that’s code for....” Dave began.
“Uh-huh,” Ellen said.
“I am so not being ‘less judgey.’”
