Be My Friday Night by Devin Claire Page B

him.
    “At most of the cocktail parties my parents host, people would consider what I do quaint,” he said.
    Sam grinned.
    “You rebel you. Are those cocktail parties the reason why you’re here in Grover?” Sam said.
    Otto had had everything mapped out for him, and he’d chosen Grover. Cocktail party quips or not, it had been a lot to give up. Otto also could’ve moved somewhere else. There were other places to make a difference.
    It was Otto’s turn to wait a beat. He let out a deep breath. It fogged in the night air.
    “You know you get an amazing view of the stars here in Grover. It’s a real place where you can really see the stars, not some fanciful resort town. I like that. The only other place around here I could see the stars like that was from my sailboat, but living on the boat all the time is lonely. I’d miss Zelda. Don’t tell her I said that. She’d never let me live it down,” said Otto.
    “You know most people consider having a sailboat fanciful too,” said Sam.
    Otto nodded in agreement.
    “Exactly, that’s why I couldn’t live there,” he said.
    Sam laughed. She wanted to ask Otto more about sailing when City Hall came into view.
    Grover’s City Hall resided in a 1960s style wooden building located on the municipal main street of town. The post office, public library, fire station, and community pool could all be found on the same street. It had been built when meeting in the library had become a bit of a tight fit for the entire town.
    While Rosalind had always loved to come down and stir up trouble at town meetings, Sam had never attended one. A strange feeling crept over Sam as she entered the building and looked up to the high vaulted ceiling. She felt as if she’d walked into a church for a spiritual ritual. She couldn’t help it; in many ways interest in city government was sometimes the only thing the citizens of Grover had in common, except for living in a town that Sam thought was pretty easy to forget.
    Attending a town hall meeting was a rite of passage. One Sam had always avoided. She never really liked getting involved. As she looked around at the familiar faces, she realized it wasn’t as scary or nerve wracking as she’d anticipated.
    Gus and Randy sat on opposite sides of the room. Randy was going over a few index cards. Gus sat next to a chalkboard on wheels. His eyes were closed. He seemed to be meditating. Wanting to remain neutral, she didn’t say hello to either of them.
    Standing next to her, Otto scanned the room for seats.
    “We can sit here; it’s the best spot,” he said. He motioned toward the third row of seats next to the center aisle. Sam began to move toward the seats with him.
    “Samantha?” said a voice all too familiar to Sam’s ears.
    Sam whirled around to see Rosalind, her white bob freshly cut, her knit cardigan resting perfectly on her shoulders. Sam knew Rosalind saved this ultra conservative look for when she was planning to go to battle. The primmer Rosalind looked, the more likely she was to bare her teeth and fight to the death.
    “Hi Mom,” Sam said, trying for ease. She chastised herself for not actually anticipating the presence of her mother. As if Rosalind was somehow not supposed to be a part of Sam’s rite of passage.
    That’s why you move out of your hometown , Sam reminded herself, so your mother would have no knowledge of your after work activities.
    “I’m looking forward to this joust between Randy and Gus,” said Rosalind as she enveloped Sam in an embrace.
    Sam didn’t blink in response to her mother knowing about the night’s agenda. Sam had known as soon as she’d posted the document to the school’s website she’d given the town a gift. They'd loved having something to talk about all afternoon until the meeting started.
    Still high off of putting a little more fun in everyone’s day, Sam offered her mother a bit of gossip about the afternoon fraught with tension in Otto’s office.
    “Oh, now I really