“So, the HOA meeting,” Jude pressed on, “is tomorrow night? Six?”
“At Beverly’s, yes,” Annette confirmed. By now, she was furiously scribbling onto a notepad, referencing her phone and shooting off texts every so often.
After Annette confessed that they were trying to move—to a bigger city, somewhere with more opportunity—she’d grabbed the notepad and her phone and cracked into work furiously.
“Will you still go?” Jude asked innocently. “If you’re moving, I mean.”
“Well, who knows if we’re moving.” Annette looked up, and there was a new fire in her eyes. An energy. “I mean I can hardly sell other people’s homes. Who says I can sell this one?” She cackled then waved a hand. “Listen, Jude. I’ll be at the meeting, of course I will. We’ve put the house on the market to see if we can get action.”
“And if you do, you’ll sell?” Jude didn’t know Annette, or Roman, or their son well. But for the past decade they’d been neighbors. Maybe longer than that. And now that Jude had the time and focus to give to Apple Hill, she felt a little wounded. Like she was too late.
“If we do sell, then we’ll take the business to Rochester or Birch Harbor, even. Who knows? But you’ve given me an idea. And I’m going to run with it.”
“I have?” Jude blinked.
Annette set her phone down and dropped the pen, then raised both hands as if to indicate the whole world. “We’ve done it all. And when you do it all, are you really doing anything at all?”
Jude wasn’t sure she followed.
Seeing this, Annette shook her head. “Best on the Block does it all. I mean we even list hoarding foreclosures.” She flung a hand west, toward Quinn’s house. “People see our sign on places like that and probably laugh!”
This cut Jude for some reason. When she said she knew what it felt like to do it all, she didn’t mean she sold out. She didn’t mean she was…desperate.
Did she?
“I…I need to go over and invite Quinn. I told Beverly I would,” Jude stammered. She needed to get out of Annette’s house and away from the burning sensation that deep down inside, she was exactly like Best on the Block. A phony.
Always had been.
Still was.
Always would be.
Jude or Little Judy or Judith.
It didn’t matter what title she gave herself, if she was a loser deep down, pretending otherwise wouldn’t change that.
Annette suddenly grabbed Jude’s wrist. “Wait,” she said, her eyes wild again. “You’re retired, right?”
Jude nodded slowly. She’d given her share of time in education. That’s how she met Gene. A conference. The two now felt inextricably linked. Teaching and Gene Carmichael. Gene Carmichael and teaching. A sour taste materialized in Jude’s mouth.
“And you’re here full time. Not like Shamaine. Not anymore,” Annette went on.
Again, Jude nodded.
“Maybe you can help me. You’re…successful. You’re together. People here don’t know you, but they respect you.”
“Help you how?” Jude couldn’t figure out where this was going.
“Help me fix Best on the Block,” Annette answered, her eyes pleading. “Help me stay.”