Pumpkins and Promises

by Elle Rush

  “Why on earth would you volunteer for this fundraiser?”

  “Free popcorn, obviously. Besides, I don’t have to actually go into the maze that night. I can supervise and sell tickets from out here.”

  “Well, I already paid for the tickets. I guess you’ll have to trust me.”

  Brooke paused as they stood under the entrance sign and pulled out her phone.

  “You aren’t setting a GPS position, are you?” he asked. There was prepared, and there was paranoia, and he didn’t know which way Brooke was leaning.

  “That’s a good idea, but no. I’m starting the clock. You said this right-hand plan of yours means it’ll take less than two hours for us to finish, right?”

  “Right.”

  She pressed a couple buttons. “I just started the timer. Let’s go.” She reached back and grabbed his hand, then pulled him over the threshold.

  Her fingers relaxed a couple steps in, but Aaron kept a hold of her. She’d started it, but he wasn’t above taking advantage. The early afternoon sun was warm, and the corn blocked the breeze they’d felt in the parking lot. It was a beautiful day for a walk with a beautiful woman.

  Whoever designed the maze had a sense of humor he wasn’t prepared for. About ten yards in, they came to a crossroads, with the three directions labeled as “Oz,” “Narnia,” and “Wonderland”.

  “What’s your choice?” he asked.

  She pointed to Wonderland. “You said turn right. That’s the plan, right?”

  “It works, but you have to turn right every single time. No exceptions.”

  “What if you find yourself in a dead end?”

  “You turn right. Facing corn? Turn right you’re moving again. Then right at the next option,” he said.

  Brooke screwed up her face. “That sounds fishy.”

  “You promised you’d try it.”

  “I did. So, off to Wonderland,” she said.

  There was lots of laughter as they got started. At one point, they stood aside as a mob of tweens wearing matching T-shirts raced past them, then split into two groups at the next junction.

  “How’s Jordan doing in school?” he asked.

  “Mostly okay.” She made a face. “She has Mr. Tambo for English next semester.”

  He knew Matt Tambo. The teacher was a middle-aged, middle-class man who Aaron didn’t interact with except for at speed traps on the highway. “Is there a problem with him?”

  “A couple years ago, he and Glenna Jackson got into it at a school board meeting. He insisted that Huckleberry Finn was a classic and should be mandatory. Glenna said that every year he called on the Black students in his classroom to read the most profane excerpts aloud. His reasoning was that since they were the ones speaking the n-word, it made it okay. Glenna said it was a racist excuse. She convinced the board, and they dropped the book from the curriculum.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Eli, her youngest, graduated this past June. A week ago, Mr. Tambo proposed changes for next semester’s book list. He’s pushing for To Kill a Mockingbird. Do you remember it?”

  He shrugged. “Vaguely.”

  “I reread it as soon as I heard about it. There are only slightly fewer instances of racial slurs. Now Denny and I are speaking at the next school board meeting. Glenna’s already done most of the hard work, but it never ends. There are so few Black students in the school that teachers like Mr. Tambo tend to slip through. My daughter should not have to fight in this day and age.”

  “How ugly is this going to get? Can I do anything?”

  “Do you want to sit in at the board meeting? Your presence may help keep tempers in check.”

  “Unless I get called out, I’ll be there.”

  “But aside from that, Jordan loves being a senior. She especially loves working on the online school paper this year because, apparently, seniors get assigned all the best stories. No word on any exposés so far, but I won’t be surprised if she uncovers one.”

  “I wish Trevor would get more involved in extracurriculars, and not just for his college applications. Aside from football, his circle of friends is pretty small.”

  “Is he grounded again? Is that why you have his car?”

  “Not this time. He’s doing some outdoor work today and needed the truck to haul firewood, so we traded.”

  “Firewood,” Brooke said with a sigh. “That’s one thing I really don’t like about our apartment—no fireplace.”

  “We have a firepit,” Aaron said, an idea forming instantly. “We should have you and Jordan over sometime. Maybe some kind of thank you for the other volunteers.” It would kill two birds with one stone: get Brooke to his place and get Jordan and Trevor used to seeing them together.

  “That sounds like fun.”

  Now all he had to do was convince his son. “Great.”

  “Great,” Brooke echoed, her voice flat and unimpressed.

  That’s when he noticed they’d walked into a dead end. “Not a problem. Don’t panic. Remember the plan.”

  “We’ve only been walking for five minutes.”

  “Then we won’t have lost much time.”

  “If this doesn’t work and we have to resort to cannibalism to survive, people are going to start calling you Lefty Leg Gillespie,” Brooke warned.

  “So noted.” She was teasing when she said it, but there was a tightness around her eyes that hadn’t been there a minute ago. Aaron reached for her hand again. “Come on. We’ll be at the center lookout before you know it, and we’ll be able to gloat over how quickly we got there.”

  She gave him a determined nod. “Okay. We can do this. Next stop, the lookout.”

  The Jacksons had had fun when they’d set up the maze. Every five minutes or so, they came across a small sign painted with a joke-telling jack-o-lantern. The first one made the corners of Brooke’s mouth twitch. The second got a chuckle. The puns got progressively worse the further they went. Brooke insisted on taking a picture of every one of them. “I won’t post them on social media till we’re a lot closer to Halloween, so I don’t spoil the fun, but they’re too adorable not to share,” she told him.

  Thirty minutes later—they’d hit two more dead ends—they climbed the two-storey staircase to stand on the large wooden platform that overlooked the property. The corn was so tall it blocked sight of most of the people, but every now and then a flash of color appeared in a gap. The concession stand was doing good business, and the picnic tables were more crowded than they’d been when he and Brooke had begun. He pointed at another group emerging from the maze and raising their arms in victory.

  “Wow, this is some view,” Brooke said.

  She was facing the other direction, facing the apple orchard that had been full of red a month ago was down to sporadic dots among the thinning, dark green leaves. Beyond that, rows of ankle-high green and brown strawberry plants poked up between rows of straw. Now that the trees were starting to shed their foliage, they caught glimpses of the creek that ran through the back of the property.

  The sun caught her brown eyes, and, for a moment, they looked like glittering pieces of amber. The wind blew a few whisps of hair across her cheek, and she absently brushed them away.

  “Gorgeous.” He wasn’t talking about the scenery.

  She turned, then grabbed his arm. “Hey, look!” She pointed at the path they had to take to start the second half of the journey. Her finger wound and twisted in the air. “The next right we have to take—” Brooke cut herself off, then checked that they were still alone. “We’re going to hit a dead end in three more turns, but then there’s a good long stretch.”

  “Shall we get to it?”

  “Absolutely. We still have eighty-two minutes before you have to buy my popcorn.”

  Her cutthroat competitive streak bubbled to the surface when the T-shirt gang from the beginning of the maze caught them again at the base of the tower. “Say, Aaron, doesn’t the secret map you got say the shortcut is that way?” she said,
pointing left.

  The herd immediately raced past them and entered the left-hand branch of the path.

  “Come on, let’s beat those little turkeys,” she said as she darted right.

  He had to run to catch up.

  They burst through the exit twenty-five-and-a-half minutes later, a single turn ahead of the mob of kids who were hot on their trail. Sweat slicked his hair to his forehead as he pulled Brooke out of the way of the thundering stampede.

  “We did it!” He was stunned when Brooke wrapped her arms round him in a hug. Not too stunned to hug her back, but he was surprised by the emotion she was willing to show him. She seemed to realize what she’d done, though, and quickly let him go and stepped away.

  Brooke checked her phone and cleared her throat. “Fifty-two minutes. That beats Jordan’s best time by over an hour. She’s going to flip when I tell her that I stomped her record to dust on my first attempt.”

  “Are you going to tell her about the right-hand turn trick?”

  “No way! That’s our secret. We can’t have her busting our new record in the same year.”

  “That sounds fair.”

  The air was cooler and breezier now that they were back in the open. The sun had begun its decline even though it was only midafternoon. The tops of the trees were starting to throw shadows. By the time he was through the concession line and had returned with their coffees and popcorn, Brooke had staked out a small table upwind from one of the still-dark firepits.

  “This was fun, but we’re also here to work. Let’s chat about the fundraiser,” she proposed.

  As they discussed the number of people who came through on an average night and the various positions that needed to be filled, the scope of the project hit home. They needed people directing cars in the parking lot, ticket sellers, people counting how many went in and came out of the maze, concession workers, and a clean-up detail. “This is going to take half of the senior class.”

  “Pretty close,” Brooke agreed.

  Glenna joined them near the end and offered a couple refinements to their plan. They agreed to contact her in another week with the finalized details. Glenna gave Brooke a hug and offered her hand to Aaron.

  The drive home was much too short. Aaron pulled in front of Brooke’s apartment. “I had a lot of fun this afternoon.”

  “I did too. I can’t believe you got me into the corn maze.”

  “I’m a trustworthy guy.”

  “You must be.”

  “I’d love to do it again sometime.” He let the silence stretch, giving her a chance to respond.

  “Me too. But there are other considerations.”

  There were lots of them. His son. Her daughter. His job. Her night classes. “There are, but I think exploring what we have—what we could have—is worth the risk. And the effort. How about you?”

  She nodded. “It’s been just me and Jordan for a while now, but I think we’re both ready for me to be open to the idea of someone new in my life.”

  “I think we should investigate this idea,” he agreed. They weren’t making a lifelong commitment at this point. They didn’t even know if what they had would go anywhere. All they were sure of was that they got along and liked each other, but it was a long way to go from a single date to dating.

  “So, let’s investigate,” Brooke said.

  Chapter 7

  “Why are my feet killing me? I’ve been on them for longer stretches of time at soccer tournaments.” Jordan lifted her feet to the arm of the sofa and wriggled her bare toes. After spending four hours on her feet running coffee to customers, she came home and announced her first paycheck was going towards better shoes. Brooke sympathized. Service jobs were hard on several levels, and physical was one of the biggest.

  “Use some peppermint foot lotion before you go to bed.” But she still wanted to spend time with her daughter. Since Jordan’s phone was charging on the kitchen island and her feet were too sore for her to run away, she had a captive audience. “How’s the student paper?”

  “Fine. Pretty slow right now since it’s the beginning of the year.”

  “No big stories in the works?”

  “I’m working on an opinion piece for next week’s edition about the school board’s sexist student policies, but I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

  Strike one. “Let me know when it’s ready. I’d love to read it.” And find out why I’m going to be called down to the principal’s office, Brooke added in her head. She knew Jordan would have the facts to support her comments, but that topic sounded like it was going to ruffle a few feathers. “How’s the social situation? Any new students? Any old students come back with a new look?”

  “Anybody date-worthy?” Jordan translated. She rolled her eyes. “No, Mom. Just the same people I’ve been going to school with for the last four years. If I haven’t dated them by now, I’m not going to. Plus, I’m a senior. I can’t go out with a sophomore.”

  Strike two. “Have you started filling out any college applications?”

  “Mom! It’s September!”

  Strike three. Just because she had time with her teenager didn’t mean she was going to receive a flood of information from her. Which meant Jordan was perfectly normal. “I want you to know, it will be discussed at length at Thanksgiving with your father. You might want to have an idea about where you want to go, or at least apply.”

  “I will.”

  Brooke retired to their tiny bathroom. She turned on the hot water tap and let it run, adding a sprinkle of citrus-scented Epsom salts and a splash of baby oil. The tub was small, but she’d have half an hour of uninterrupted soaking time.

  She texted back and forth with Aaron till they agreed on a day and time for dinner: Friday, seven o’clock, at the Atlas Restaurant. After she’d texted him good night, she set her phone on the vanity and submerged her head under the hot water.

  She had a date.

  Brooke quickly surfaced, sputtering.

  She needed clothes.

  Three days later, she took one last look in the mirror. The toes of her black dress boots stuck out from her jean cuffs. They accentuated the leather accents from the black and silver belt Lucy had lent her. Her blouse was a fitted, long-sleeve shirt of a deep red with a hint of orange, like the leaves of a maple at this time of year. Her blonde hair was back in a ponytail, with small, jeweled hairpins keeping it sleek and adding a little sparkle. “Is it too much? Or not enough?”

  “You look great,” Lucy Callahan said from her corner of the sofa.

  “Your hair is stunning. Aaron won’t know what hit him,” Mina Blackburn added.

  Her two friends helped settle her nerves. That was why she’d invited them over.

  It was Friday night. Jordan was at By the Cup, working till closing. Brooke had the apartment for another hour before Aaron would pick her up, and she’d called in some moral support. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” she said. “It’s a first date.”

  “That he’s been flirting toward since April,” Lucy said. Evidently, she planned to spend a quiet night at home alone. She was wearing a hoodie with frayed cuffs and yoga pants. Her blue eyes didn’t pop as much as they usually did since she wasn’t wearing any makeup.

  Lucy would know about flirting; Brooke had called her months ago asking if the signals Aaron had been giving were of the interested variety. Lucy assured her they were. For weeks, Brooke had become more and more frustrated as Aaron refused to take the next step. Now her nerves were telling her she’d been too hasty.

  “Flirting? Why didn’t I hear about the flirting?” Mina demanded. She was dressed like she did have a date later, but Mina always looked good. Her hair was a glossy black that looked like she’d just come out of a salon, even if it was in a simple French braid like she was currently wearing. She had on a purple sweater that matched her violet eyes, and a lipstick that was a few shades darker than both.

  “If you haven’t heard anything, you’re the only person in town,” Br
ooke countered. “Lucy and Roy have been teasing me mercilessly.”

  “Where have I been?”

  “Working,” Brooke told her. While Lucy had become a good friend in the months since she’d come to town, Mina had been her best friend for years. The Starlight Gallery had begun as a seasonal artisans’ shop, catering to the summer tourist crowd. With a lot of work, Mina had moved it to a permanent, year-round location and added an internet shop. Then she’d expanded with an attached stained glass studio.

  Lucy picked up her wineglass for a sip of chardonnay. “We really have been annoying, but we tease with love.”

  “I can understand being out of the general loop. I’ve been working nonstop putting the show together, but I don’t understand why didn’t you tell me? This rates at least a text,” Mina said.

  “You’ve been there the few times I dipped my toes back into the dating pool. I wanted to make sure this time I was ready to dive in.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Splash” was her simple answer.

  “Well, you’d better put on your water wings and take a deep breath, my friend, because the sheriff has arrived.” Lucy unfolded her legs from beneath her. “Let’s go back to my apartment, Mina. There’s a new episode of Dress for Success tonight, and Pieros is a magician when it comes to his hairstyles during the makeover portion.”

  “Do you want to follow it with The Creative Baker?”

  “It’s too soon for me to watch baking shows. I’m still not over the creations from the Junior Shamrock Baking Championship,” Lucy said as she grabbed her keys.

  Brooke snickered. Lucy had a green tongue for days after being a judge at that preteen cooking contest.

  “You laugh, but every good relationship has at least one memorable date.” Lucy made it sound like a threat. “Go, keep that little tidbit in the back of your mind while you’re enjoying your night out with Aaron.”

  Brooke was too busy slipping into her heels and giving her hair one last glance to respond. Fortunately, Mina did it for her. “You’re mean, Lucy.”

  She looked up in time to see Lucy grin at her. “But I’m mean with love.”