“On Lilac Bay?”
“It’s a long shot,” Andrew said. “But we put together a really good application.”
“What’s a reality show?” Mason asked.
“It’s a TV show,” his dad explained. “About real people instead of actors.”
“Why would anyone want to have a TV show about this island?” he asked. “We don’t even have cars.”
“What’s this for, Riley?” Rebecca asked me, her eyes slightly narrowed.
“It’s a contest to pick the best small town in America,” I explained. “The winner gets all kinds of prizes. And grants and stuff for the town.”
“Who in the hell is going to watch a TV show about small towns in America?” Jake asked.
“Daddy said hell,” Mason giggled.
“Bad language,” Rebecca said automatically. “But he has a point. A TV show about small towns?”
“Why do people watch reality shows about anything?” Andrew asked. “Yesterday I saw a commercial for a show about extreme fishing.”
“That one’s great!” Jake said eagerly. “I watch it all the time.”
“The point,” Andrew said, “is that they make reality shows about anything these days. Fishing. Pawn shops. Home renovations. Rich housewives.”
“Travel and housing market shows are actually a pretty big draw right now,” I added.
“But we’re leaving out the best part,” Andrew said. “Heather Dale is hosting the thing!”
Great. This was exactly why I hadn't wanted to talk about this with Rebecca. I knew exactly what was coming next.
“Heather Dale?” she gasped. “Like, television star Heather Dale?”
“That’s the one,” I said, trying to keep my voice light, as if none of this was a big deal at all. From the way my sister kept watching me, I knew she wasn’t buying it.
“Who’s Heather Dale?” Mason asked.
“Your Aunt Riley’s hero,” Andrew said. “Don’t worry, most normal people have never heard of her.”
“So what would we have to do to win?” Jake asked.
“They’ll come out and shoot some segments,” Andrew explained. “And then every week viewers will vote on who they think should continue.”
“We would be judged on a combination of the personalities of the islanders and the amenities in the town,” I explained. “There would be specific tasks we’d have to do—”
“Tasks are like games,” Andrew said when Mason opened his mouth to ask yet another question.
“Cool!”
“It might be,” I said. “But there are a lot of towns entering, so we probably won’t be chosen.”
“I don’t know,” Jake said. “I think Lilac Bay is pretty unique—”
“You think so?” Andrew asked sarcastically. “What tipped you off? The giant piles of horse dung on Main Street or the fact that our mayor moonlights as a dance instructor? Or maybe it was the fact that we don’t have a full grocery store on this island, but we have seven different fudge shops.”
“Hey, Jimmy’s is as good as a grocery store,” Jake argued, and Andrew shot him a withering glare.
“It’s a glorified tackle shop.”
“Well, I think it’s charming,” Rebecca said. “The whole island has a lot of character. I bet they pick us after all.”
“We’ll see.” I grabbed my bowl and stood, hoping to change the subject. As excited as I was about the competition, my sister was the last person in the world I wanted to talk to about it. “Anyone else want seconds while I’m up?”
* * *
A fter dinner , Andrew insisted that he be the one to clean up. I had a feeling he was just hoping for a few moments of peace and quiet in the kitchen after the low roar of dinner with my nephews.
“I’m going to take these hooligans out back,” Jake said, kissing his wife’s cheek. “Try to run some of this energy off before bed.”
“Thanks, babe.” She refilled her wine glass and turned to me. “Come on, it’s still nice out. Let’s go sit on the porch.”
April evenings in northern Michigan meant chilly temperatures, so we took our jackets along with our wine