5. Grady

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Kelvin took a beer out of the cooler in what should have been Grady's kitchen. "How do you expect people to vote for you when you don't even have a house that works? Who doesn't have a fridge?"

"To recap, I don't expect people to vote for me. Or not many people." Grady took a swig of his beer and hauled out one of the lawn chairs he'd bought that day for Kelvin to sit in. Flicking his wrist, the chair opened up and Grady pushed down in the middle so it wouldn't collapse when Kelvin sat down.

"And lawn chairs in your house? This is the first and last planning meeting here if this is where I have to sit." He took a sip of his beer and then held it away from his face so he could read the label. "And what is with this beer?"

"It's Korean. Like my dog, Hite. I like it."

"Hite is Korean?"

"Yep. Zeus is Greek."

"Right. Yeah. I forgot you collected them along your travels." He glanced at the two behemoths lying at my feet. "Seriously, though, when are you starting work on this place?" Kelvin picked at the label on his bottle as he took in the cracked walls and stained carpet in the living room. "You should have moved in with your mom."

Grady shook his head and took a long drink of his beer. "I'm thirty-four. Who the fuck moves back in with their mother at thirty-four?"

"Someone who can only afford a house that'll cause headaches, asthma, and who knows what other respiratory illnesses."

"You googled this last night, didn't you?"

"Of course. Google Doctor is good for some things. We're very close."

"Like developing a hypochondriac disorder?" Grady took another swig from his beer and squinted at Kelvin. One of the things they'd had in common was a thirst for knowledge. Kelvin had excelled in high school in every subject. School hadn't been as big of a deal to Grady, but he'd loved to read, anything and everything. "What about Google Dentist?"

"Utter bullshit." Kelvin laughed. "Half of the crap on there is just plain wrong."

Not surprising, and Grady grinned. The thing was, Grady could have afforded a better house. But there'd been something about this place, like the town itself, that had drawn him in. He'd come home for the anniversary of his dad's death, and this house had been for sale. He'd toured through it with the real estate agent, and a feeling of rightness had crept into his bones. Maybe the sensation that it was time he stayed, the desire to lay down roots, was simply nostalgia. This place, old man Whittaker's house, had been the last handyman job he'd done before going to his audition nine years ago.

Everything after that had been a whirlwind, sweeping Grady up and carrying him off. He'd felt hopeful his last day here, like maybe there was more to life than this town and shitty paying jobs. Grady chuckled to himself. Now, he was running for mayor. What was wrong with him? Did the town even pay a salary?

"You're thinking about it, aren't you? About how dumb all this is? Are we quitting? Maybe we should quit. Did you see Maggie already has signs up everywhere?" Kelvin heaved himself out of the lawn chair and went over to the curtain-less windows to point across the road to the signs dotting his neighbors' lawns. "Did you pick one of those slogans I sent you? We're already behind schedule."

"Take some deep breaths, Kelvin or else I'm going to start hyperventilating for you. We're fine. It's been a week. The election isn't until November. I don't want to win. I want to make it harder for Maggie."

"So far, your plan for making it harder seems to be doing nothing but walking your dogs and registering as an independent."

"I like walking my dogs. It helps me think."

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