The Difference Between You and Me by Madeleine George Page A

darkly.
    “That’s right,” Charlie grouses from the other end of the banner. He mutters: “Sonsofbitches.”
    “Why is it headed for the crapper?” Jesse asks. “Who are sons of bitches?”
    “Don’t ask him—” Margaret warns, but Charlie practically shouts over her, “Crooked town meeting members in the pocket of the big-box stores!”
    “Don’t start!” Margaret bosses him, then turns back to Jesse. “You can’t mention StarMart within earshot of that man or he loses his mind. It makes him crazy how they’re sleazeballing their way in.”
    “StarMart?” Jesse says. “But I thought they lost. I thought the Snope Christmas Tree Farm people said no.”
    StarMart, the mega-retailer, had recently attempted to buy up farmland out on Route 10 to convert into a giant one-stop discount store, a hot topic of conversation for months in the Halberstam house. Even though Fran and Arthur were in complete agreement about how terrible it would be for the town if a big-box store moved in, they managed to argue about who was more right about how awful the fallout would be, and who had the better points about the damage StarMart would do. It ended when the Snope family made the front page of the local paper by refusing to sell StarMart their land.
    “You haven’t heard?” Arlo says. “StarMart’s new plan is to try to force the Snopes into selling by putting pressure on every part of the town. Town meeting. The schools. I heard a couple of selectboard members have been offered bribes. Even the Francis Animal Shelter got a call from somebody over at NorthStar, promising a lifetime’s supply of Milk-Bones if NorthStar gets permission to build inside the town line. It’s a PR onslaught.”
    “It’s true,” Esther agrees. “Ms. Filarski told me they’re sponsoring a bunch of athletic teams at Vander and giving money to fund the dance that’s coming up at school.”
    “They figure if they make the deal irresistible enough to the town, people will put the screws to Frank and Jane Snope until they give in.” Charlie shakes his head in disgust.
    “That’s why Charlie and I are starting a grassroots anti-StarMart organization,” Arlo says. “Right, Charlie? What are we calling it again?”
    “People for the Preservation of Safe Small Towns. PPSST.”
    “Wait, no, I thought it was FASST: Fighting Against Sprawl in Small Towns.”
    “No, it was PPSST.”
    “I think it was definitely FASST, or possibly Americans Against Unrestrained Retailer Growth? AAURG?”
    “We haven’t come to consensus yet about a name, but we’re going to put the hurt to those sonsofbitches as soon as we decide on a name, you mark my words! If that storegets built it’ll be like all the other towns in America whose lifeblood has been drained out of them by bloodsucking multinational corporations!”
    “All right, all right,” Margaret shouts him down. “Pipe down, darling!” To Jesse, she remarks, “I told you, he can’t stay calm when he talks about it. His doctor says it’s a stroke risk, and he’s not supposed to discuss it.”
    “You like Main Street?” Charlie shouts, undeterred. “You like free trade and little stores and local business? Well, kiss it good-bye! Kiss it
all
good-bye if StarMart sinks their hooks into this town!”
    Charlie waves his hand dramatically over the street in front of him, gesturing to all that will be lost.
    Jesse turns to look at the doomed downtown, and just at that moment he rounds the corner and heads up the block: Mike McDade, ambling easy through the afternoon in his khakis, button-down shirt, and baseball cap. Mike McDade, the square-jawed. Mike McDade, the broad-shouldered. Mike McDade, the six-foot-one, all-American shortstop. Mike McDade, the love of Jesse’s love’s life.
    Jesse watches him, transfixed.
    The guy walks like nothing has ever stood in his way or fallen in his path, like his body has never encountered the slightest resistance in the world. He moves like someone