Fiery by Nikki Duncan

everything she’d wanted when she came to town. Inclusion. Community. Friends. Family. Love.
     
     
    The temporary wall circling the gazebo had been replaced with a curtain hanging from scaffolding. Only the slightest tug would reveal the people filling the square to watch the parade’s progression. When Carmen reached the square, she would exit the convertible and cross the lawn while Byron, Errol and Harold made a speech about the landscaping contest. On their cue, Carmen and several helpers stationed around the outside of the drape would tug on the cord that held the curtain in place.
    With that tug, the entire thing would fall to the ground leaving only the scaffolding frame standing. People on all sides of the gazebo would be able to see the work they’d done immediately.
    In his dress blues, Ryan stood at attention in the center of the gazebo. The cheers from the crowd beyond the curtain grew louder as each passing float was announced by the grandfathers. Every announcement brought the parade’s end closer. The closer that came, the more his knees and insides shook.
    His heart raced. Sweat ran down his neck and along his spine. He’d been trained to ignore distractions and discomfort, like the too tight collar of his jacket, so he stood firm and counted the floats announced. Only three remained.
    “You really ready for this?” Josh asked from Ryan’s left.
    “One hundred percent.” Ryan didn’t nod or shift his gaze away from the spot where Carmen would be standing when she dropped the curtain.
    “She’s going to cry,” Aimee said from where she stood to his right. Kendall was with Hauk and Vic, who would join them all soon enough. “If she doesn’t I will.”
    “It’s what you women do,” Josh said with a smile at his wife.
    The last actual float was announced. The high school band marched in, playing “The Maine Song”. The lyrics had never mattered much to Ryan, but suddenly they did. Like the song said, he’d sought far and wide, but his search had been in vain, because there was no place for him like Maine.
    The band stopped playing, and Ryan could picture them lowering their instruments to stand at check until their next cue.
    “And now,” Errol spoke energetically into his microphone. “Turning the corner in our customary 1955 convertible, donated for use each year by the Ruth family, is our mayor and the winner of the town square landscaping contest.”
    “We had thirty entrants,” Harold said, taking over the speech, “and the decision was a tough one. In the end, Carmen Smith, one of Whispering Cove’s newer residents, submitted the winning design. You may have been keeping up with the updates in the paper and are curious about what this young lady and our head landscaper, Ryan Alden, have been working on.”
    “Carmen’s heading this way,” Byron stated. “Where’s Ryan? Gunny,” he called to the crowd. “Where are you? Step forward.”
    There was murmuring and shuffling, but Ryan didn’t move from his spot. He didn’t even let his lips curl with the knowledge that the only people on to his game were in the gazebo with him.
    “I guess he couldn’t be here,” Harold said. “Carmen, grab that rope.”
    The fabric moved as she brushed against it on the other side. Ryan’s heart sped another pace.
    “One,” Harold spoke into the microphone.
    Faster.
    “Two,” Errol said.
    Faster.
    “Pull!” Byron called.
    The Velcro fastening at the top popped and crackled beneath the pressure of several hands pulling at once.
    Ryan’s heart stalled. The fabric fell, revealing Carmen from head to toe. 
    She froze. Her eyes widened. Her mouth gaped.
    Then, slowly, like in a dream, she stepped over the fabric and walked toward him, with the flared skirt of her white fifties-style dress bouncing and the red-and-blue ribbon in her hair blowing in the breeze. Ryan dropped to a knee.
    Her hands were shaking visibly as she stepped up the stairs and stopped before him. Her gaze went from