Hometown Girl

by Courtney Walsh

  “That was a long time ago.” Beth followed her sister toward the barn.

  “What if this place could be restored?” Molly turned and faced her, walking backward. “How great would that be?”

  “It would be a lot of work. A lot of time. A lot of money.” Beth crossed her arms as she plodded through the unmown grass.

  “But it would be great. Admit it.” Molly stopped walking, so Beth followed suit.

  She said nothing.

  “Admit it, Beth. It would be great.”

  Beth shrugged. “I guess it would be great.”

  “Ha. I knew you’d agree.” Molly practically jumped when she said it, like a lawyer who’d just made a critical point for her case.

  “We’re talking hypotheticals here, right?”

  “Think about it for a minute. Everything moves so fast nowadays. Even the tourists here—they’re all so busy. It wasn’t like that at Fairwind. Things were slow and relaxed. It was the perfect escape.” She shoved the barn door open, and they both stared at what had once been a gathering place for all of their friends and family.

  This space had been a little shop filled with homemade jellies and jams. They’d sold easy lunches and bags of freshly picked apples. There’d been a homemade-fudge counter off to the side and a whole separate space for the bakery. The smell of apples and cinnamon had always lingered in the air.

  How full of life that old barn had been.

  But now, the empty space was just a shell of its past glory. Tables and chairs caked with dust had lost their rustic charm. The shelves along the walls stood dull and lifeless, and the counter where friendly cashiers had handed out the occasional free piece of candy had all but fallen apart.

  “I don’t think anyone would see this as an escape.”

  Molly crossed her arms over her chest. “I think you’re wrong. You have to see the potential here.”

  “It was a different world back then. People are too busy to come to a place like Fairwind.” A stray cat ran into the barn and darted through the half-opened door of a storage room. “Besides, from what I’ve heard, Old Man Pendergast is not interested in selling Fairwind. If he catches us out here—”

  “He’s dead.”

  Beth frowned. “He is?”

  “Yes, and he didn’t have any family and he didn’t have a will.”

  Beth stared at her sister, recognizing that gleam in her eye. “No way. Molly, this is a bad investment.”

  “Beth, listen, you’re a businesswoman. This is what you’re trained for—to walk into a business and figure out how to make a go of it. You must be able to recognize a gold mine when you see it.”

  “This is not what I was trained for. This is—” A mouse scurried across the floor and Beth recoiled. “This is something else entirely.” She turned and walked out of the barn.

  “Look around. Breathe in that fresh country air. Picture what this place could be again if the right people got their hands on it.”

  Beth had been here before—carefully balancing Molly’s sensitivity with the need to speak the truth. This was not a good idea. Anyone could see that.

  Anyone, that is, except Molly.

  “You trust me, right?” Beth asked. “You know I wouldn’t steer you wrong?”

  “Of course, but you’re kind of closed-minded.”

  “No, I’m pragmatic. And that’s why I can tell you in no uncertain terms that this farm is a money pit. Everywhere I look, I see things falling apart.”

  “I bought it.”

  Beth spun around to face her sister. “You did what?”

  “There was an auction this morning, and I was the only bidder. I got it for a steal.” Molly beamed.

  Beth shook her head, starting back up the hill toward her car, Molly close on her heels.

  “Would you stop with that look? I brought you out here because I want us to do this together.”

  Beth didn’t slow her pace. “This is crazy, Molly. I know you’re impulsive, but this! Buying a farm?”

  “Would you at least hear me out?”

  “No, I don’t need to hear anything, because there is no way I am going to be a part of something so ridiculous.” Beth pulled open her car door. “You always do the stupidest things!”

  Molly’s face fell. She stood, unmoving, just a few feet away from the car.

  Beth dropped her gaze to the ground and let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  “Yes, you did. I know what you think of me. What all of you think of me. I know Dad never thought I could do anything big and important—he saved all those dreams for you.”

  Yeah, and look at me now.

  “You’re right,” Molly said. “I’ve done some stupid things. I went to cosmetology school, and I don’t like to touch other people’s heads. I bought that car last year that didn’t have an engine in it. I make decisions based on how I feel.”

  Beth glanced at Molly. All this time, she’d assumed her sister didn’t know those things were foolish.

  “But you’re the flip side of my coin, Beth. You don’t do anything based on the way you feel. Everything is planned out and calculated, and you never allow yourself to have a single emotion without a checklist of pros and cons.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is. That’s why it threw you for such a curveball when your perfectly laid plan fell apart. That was six years ago—and you’re still here, working in Dad’s company, in a job you hate.”

  “I don’t hate it.” And I have to stay. I have to make it up to Dad.

  “Tell me this is what you always dreamed you would do.”

  Beth searched for a reply but came up empty.

  Molly softened. “You need a change, and so do I. Fairwind can give it to us.”

  Beth shook her head. “I can’t even believe what I’m hearing.”

  “Think about it. Remember what it was like here.”

  Beth didn’t want to remember. Recalling how it felt to have no worries or no cares—it would make her long for something she’d never have again, and what would be the point of that? She wasn’t a fan of self-imposed torture.

  Molly turned away, eyes scanning the forgotten land in front of her.

  “I can still remember every time we came here, before we went home, Daddy would make us all head over to that little stand at the edge of the flea market. They had fresh-made kettle corn—”

  “And lemon shake-ups,” Beth said. “I remember.”

  “What if we could bring that back to Willow Grove? Tourism is still big here. Why shouldn’t we introduce Fairwind to a new generation?”

  Beth shut the car door and leaned back against it. A part of her wanted that more than anything—to go down an unexpected path, one she’d never considered before.

  Molly stared at her. “Every single day of your life has been exactly the same for at least the last five years. Aren’t you bored?”

  Thoughts ran around in Beth’s mind like a toddler with scissors. Dangerous. Chaotic. She didn’t like thinking about change when she was stuck where she was.

  “I’ve done something amazing here, Beth, and I’m offering you a chance to get on board. Be a part of this—for us, for this town, for this place. Doesn’t it deserve to be restored?”

  Beth drew in a deep breath. “Of course it does. But we’re not equipped to do it. We know nothing about apple orchards or farms or pumpkin patches.”

  “But we’re smart. And we learn fast. You know business. And I’m great with people. We can do this. Together.”

  Beth looked at her sister’s pleading eyes. Molly was desperate to make a go of this plan. But this was the same sister who only last year had been convinced she wanted to drive a food truck. Never mind that Molly wasn’t a chef. She’d never even worked in food service. She’d gotten so far as to test-drive an old, falling-apart food truck, only to decide—at the very last minute—she didn’t like the way she looked driving such a big vehicle. The next day, she’d gone out and bought her VW
Bug, and the food-truck idea went to the place all of Molly’s grand plans went: the idea graveyard.

  It would be only a matter of time before she lost interest in Fairwind Farm too, and Beth would be left to pick up the pieces.

  “Look, I know what you’re thinking,” Molly said.

  “Oh, do you?” Beth hoped not.

  “Yes, you’re calculating all the reasons this is a bad idea. But just promise me you’ll sleep on it for one night. Isn’t that what Dad taught us to do? Sleep on every big decision?”

  “Did you sleep on this one? Did you pray about buying a run-down farm?”

  “Yes, actually, I did.” Molly stared off into the distance. “In my own way.”

  Beth stuck her hands on her hips and studied her own feet, her sensible pair of shoes.

  “It’s different this time, Beth. I promise.” Molly’s eyes begged. “Just spend one night thinking about it, please?”

  How could she say no?

  “One night. If my answer doesn’t change—and I don’t think it will—then I’ll try to find a way to help you get out of this deal.”

  Molly frowned. “I don’t want out, Beth. If you decide not to do this with me, I’m going to do it on my own.”

  The words, spoken with such conviction, worried Beth. What if this was the one time Molly stuck with a project so long she didn’t give herself an exit strategy? And worse, what if there was no one there to bail her out this time?

  How would their mother respond if Beth didn’t jump in and save her then?

  Chapter Four

  Whitaker family meetings were reserved for important family events. Dad’s will. Mom’s care. Their trusts. They weren’t typically called to discuss individual life events, but the day after Molly had summoned her to Fairwind Farm, Beth decided to call their oldest brother, Ben, to get everything out in the open.

  Ben rarely made it back to Willow Grove. After his career in professional baseball had ended, he’d made a life in the city—and he didn’t like the attention he got when he was home. But this was an emergency, and Beth needed his support.

  “Is it too much to hope you’ve called this meeting to tell me you’re in on my new plan?” Molly’s eyes practically sparkled with expectation.

  “I told you it wasn’t likely I’d change my mind.” Beth pulled two cans of beans from the cupboard.

  Molly stared at her sister. “Why do I feel like you tattled on me?”

  “I didn’t tattle, Molly. I just thought it would be good to have Ben’s input.”

  “And mine.” Their mom sat at the table with an afghan over her legs, knitting another scarf. As if the fourteen in the other room weren’t enough.

  “I’m getting a head start on Christmas,” Lilian had said when Beth noted the pile of scarves she’d amassed these last few months. Beth was pretty sure her mother didn’t know fourteen people who would wear a hand-knitted scarf, but Beth wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.

  “What’s the big deal? We haven’t all been together in weeks. It’ll be good to catch up.” Beth knew they would all see through her excuse, but she pretended the words were satisfactory.

  “How’d she even get you here, Ben?” Molly popped an olive into her mouth.

  “She promised me a home-cooked meal.” He leaned against the counter, arms folded midtorso.

  “You don’t look like you’ve been starving lately.” Molly dunked a baby carrot in the dip and crunched it in half. She was right. Their brother had always looked like he’d stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad, but he looked older and more filled out now.

  “Ben, can you go start the grill?” Beth pulled five burger patties from the refrigerator.

  “You never said I was going to have to cook the meal.” He didn’t move.

  Dad had always manned the grill.

  Silence hung in the air, as if they’d all remembered at the same time. Ben gave one quick nod, then strode through the kitchen and out onto the patio.

  “Can’t believe you’re getting Mom and Ben involved in this.” Molly sat on a stool on the other side of the counter.

  “This concerns everyone, Molly.”

  “Hardly. You just want to bulldoze my idea.”

  Beth ignored her. She’d called Ben yesterday on her way home from the farm and filled him in, hoping he could talk some sense into their sister. The two of them had always had a special bond. If anyone could get through to Molly, it was Ben.

  Beth put together a salad and a dish of baked beans while Ben grilled burgers and Molly sulked. Their mom hummed to herself quietly, knitting away as if she had nothing else to do.

  When Ben returned with the cooked burgers, they gathered at the kitchen table.

  “Is your boyfriend coming?” He raised an eyebrow as he peered down at Molly.

  “If you’re referring to Bishop, no. He’s working. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

  Bishop had been Molly’s best friend since grade school, with the exception of a small separation somewhere around junior high when they each realized, as if for the first time, that they weren’t the same gender. He now worked at the Willow Grove Police Station, where Molly’s VW Bug was frequently seen in the parking lot. Everyone knew it wasn’t a matter of if but when the two would get together—everyone, it seemed, except the couple in question.

  Molly moved from her stool to the chair next to their mom and shot Ben an annoyed look.

  “Uh-huh.” Ben looked to Beth to join him, but she couldn’t get on board with teasing Molly about her denial of Bishop’s feelings for her—or hers for him, for that matter. She just wanted to talk through Molly’s latest disaster of an idea and come up with a plan to make it go away.

  They said grace, filled their plates and tried to pretend the silence wasn’t awkward.

  “Well?” Molly glared at Beth. “You called this meeting, so let’s get it over with.”

  “Don’t be like that.” Beth wished there was a good way to tell someone they’d just made another terrible mistake. It seemed to be a pattern with Molly, and Beth always seemed to be the one who had to point it out.

  Molly looked away. “It’s a good investment, Beth.” She glanced at their mother, who ate smaller bites now. “Tell her, Mom.”

  Lilian held both hands up. “I don’t pretend to understand anything about investments. But I did think it was an interesting idea.”

  “It is an interesting idea,” Ben said. “But it’s not very practical.”

  “Thank you.” Beth knew she could count on him.

  “But you agree it’s interesting.” Molly took a bite of her burger. Leave it to her to hear only what she wanted to hear.

  “But not practical,” Beth said. “That’s the point.”

  “Practical isn’t always best,” their mother said.

  “You don’t really support this idea, Mom.”

  “I just said it was interesting. And I can tell you that when your dad started his business, his parents told him he wasn’t being practical either.”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Beth said. Why was their mom encouraging this? “Do you know what kind of debt you’re getting into?”

  “Well, that’s my business, isn’t it?” Molly dropped her fork on her plate with a clank.

  “And now it’s mine. Because you’re asking for my help.”

  “Fine, Beth. I won’t ask for your help, but if you’d shut up and listen to me for five seconds, you’d know this is a good investment.”

  Ben glanced at Beth but didn’t say anything.

  Beth set her fork down. “Fine. I’m listening.”

  “Maybe you should start with what possessed you to buy the farm in the first place.” Ben piled a second burger with tomatoes, onions, lettuce and pickles.

  Molly frowned. “Are you kidding? When I heard about Mr. Pendergast, I felt something go off inside me. Like, finally! The thing I’d been waiting for was right in front of me.”

  “You’ve been waiting for the man to die?” Bet
h took a drink of her lemonade.

  “You know what I mean. I’ve tried to get excited about hundreds of business ideas—this is the only one that’s got me completely jazzed.”

  “I seem to remember you being pretty jazzed about the mobile-dog-grooming business.” Ben wiped his mouth with his napkin.

  “And the frozen yogurt café,” their mom added.

  “And massage therapy school,” Beth said.

  Molly stared at them, that wounded-animal look on her face.

  They did this sometimes—pointed out Molly’s mistakes. Laughed at her expense. Nobody ever meant to be hurtful, but Beth could see by her sister’s expression that they had been.

  She expected her to push her chair away from the table, throw her napkin on her plate and storm off. That was classic Molly.

  But she didn’t. Instead, she drew in a deep breath and leveled her gaze at Beth. “I knew Old Man Pendergast didn’t have any family left, so that meant Fairwind was going to go up for auction. I went to the bank and talked to Jerry. He looked over my financials and said with the right down payment, they’d approve me for the loan.”

  “Jerry Harris?” Beth asked. “That’s how you got the loan?”

  “So?” Molly steeled her jaw.

  “He would give you his kidney if you asked, Molly. He’s been in love with you since the eighth grade.”

  “That doesn’t mean he didn’t think this was a viable business option. He couldn’t have given me the loan if I was too much of a risk.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

  “So you got the loan and then what?” Clearly Ben had no interest in the drama of the thing.

  “I went to the auction. It wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be. Not many people, and I didn’t even get one of those little paddles. I knew how much I had to spend, so I put my bid in, and I got it.”

  “Just like that,” Beth said. Maybe now their mother would see the problem.

  “Just like that.” Molly grinned. “Like it was meant to be.”

  Oh, Molly, always superstitious and never sensible.

  Beth waited for her to go on. Waited for Ben to respond. Waited for Mom to add her two cents. When none of those things happened, Beth searched for something to say. She admired Molly’s intention—it would be wonderful for their community to bring Fairwind back to life. But she couldn’t pretend she thought this was a good idea. Especially for someone who lacked both the business and the physical skills to be successful.