by Sarah Peis
But a defeatist attitude was getting us nowhere, and I could already see heads turning her way and nodding. I had to get everyone in a fighting mood so we could win this thing.
“Nobody wants a ghost town, and that’s exactly what will happen if there’s a mall three minutes away that offers everything the town center does and more, with the added benefit of air-conditioning. We just need to stick together and convince the town council and the mayor that the mall is in nobody’s best interest.”
“The mayor is on her way out. Elections are coming up, but she’s not running again. Instead, she has her eye on the governor’s office. That means nothing good for us because she doesn’t care if we vote for her or not. She also owns part of the land the mall will be on and will do anything she can to get it passed through council and make a lot of money,” Klaus said.
I couldn’t believe these were the same people who staged a sit-down protest when the old movie theater was scheduled to be demolished. Myrtle even chained herself to the doors—which were simply removed by the hinges and one of the town’s firefighters carried her away, much to her excitement.
“I’ll come up with a plan, but I need to know that I have your support. Don’t just give up. This is big. We need to stop it.”
More grumbles rang through the room, but this time there was at least some agreement.
“I’m in,” someone shouted from the back.
“I’ll start getting signatures tomorrow. And Clara can put a notice up at the post office,” someone else said.
I nodded and continued. “We need to start with the land. If they can’t buy up enough to build a mall, they won’t be able to go through with their plans. I know that most of it they already own, but the Lawton Farm and the old gas station haven’t sold yet. They’re right in the center of the area they want to build on. If we can stop them from getting to those, we’re halfway there.”
“Nobody knows who the gas station belongs to,” Klaus said. He knew everyone in Humptulips, had been living here his whole life. But the gas station had always been a mystery. It hadn’t been in operation for at least twenty years, and nobody had ever tried to sell it either.
“Well, the good news is, if we don’t know, the developers probably don’t either. We just need to beat them in finding out who owns it. And we can talk to Bud Lawton about his farm.”
“I’ll sift through the archives to see what I can find out about the gas station,” Beth volunteered. She worked at the mayor’s office and had access to everything.
“Thanks, Beth, that would be great. Let me know if you find anything. Now, who wants to speak to Bud?”
The room went deathly silent. Nobody moved, nobody spoke or breathed too loudly. Guess there wasn’t anyone who’d forgotten about the incident a few years back when Bud shot a round of buckshot into anyone who came too close to his farm. He was convinced the town had conspired against him and was trying to rob him. He’d since calmed down after a few visits from the sheriff, reminding him it was illegal to kill someone only because they were walking past your property.
“Fine. I’ll go. I hope you’ll all remember the sacrifices I made when you put up a statue in my honor,” I grumbled and climbed down from the table.
Klaus announced the end of the meeting, and everyone sprinted to the cakes set up in the corner. I put a big stack of papers to collect signatures for the petition at the exit.
“Apologize,” Sunshine whispered next to me.
“Geesh, how did you get here so fast?” I asked and turned to look at her.
“Special ops training,” she deadpanned and walked away to join the line for the cakes. I never knew when she was joking or being serious.
I went in search of Julia and found her near the lemonade. “Julia,” I called and stepped in front of her.
Her mouth was tight, and she narrowed her eyes at me. “What do you want, Maisie? You gonna tell me that bangs are not in fashion anymore?”
I noticed her new hairdo and tilted my head. “Well, to be honest, they don’t really suit your face. You should try—”
She walked away without another word.
Guess I deserved that.
Sunshine was watching my failed apology attempt with big eyes. She waved at Julia, who was almost at the exit.
I sprinted after her, nearly running over Myrtle, who gave me her best stink eye as I called out an apology. I caught up to Julia and blocked her way again. “Julia, I’m sorry for what I said. I’m an idiot and blurt out the first thing that comes to my head. But I’m working on my social skills. Will you accept my apology?”
Julia sighed, but her mouth wasn’t drawn tight anymore, and she wasn’t trying to kill me with the laser beams she probably wished were shooting out of her eyes.
“Fine. Apology accepted. But you owe me.”
I opened my mouth to tell her I brought pie, but she cut me off.
“And I already had two pieces of pie, so don’t even think about bribing me with it. I want you to design my wedding dress. And I’ll pay you. But you have to bring pie and champagne to every fitting. And you are not allowed to say anything negative about the dress, me in it, or my bridesmaids.”
I was speechless. Something that didn’t happen to me often. This was huge. Julia was marrying into money. Like bucketloads. Her wedding would be epic. And I wanted to design her dress more than anything.
“Julia. Really? You mean it?” I breathed, eyes wide, mouth gaping. Damn thing didn’t want to close.
“I’ve seen your designs, and they’re amazing. And I’ll never forget the prom dresses you made for Willa and Stella. They were beautiful.”
I nodded and tried to act like a person who wasn’t close to running around Julia in circles and shouting in glee. “I would love to. Thank you so much. You won’t regret it. And I’ll be full of compliments the whole time I’m doing the dress fitting.”
The corners of her mouth tilted up. “I don’t know how many times you’ve tried to give me fashion advice but insulted me instead. And somehow I always forgive you. We’ll see how long you last this time.”
She waved and left—probably a good idea since she was wearing her gumboots. And there was plenty I could say about them being worn anywhere but in the rain. Or on a farm. But people normally had those thoughts and kept them to themselves, they didn’t blurt them out. So I would be a normal person and shut up, no matter how much I wanted to say something.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Sunshine said, appearing next to me.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. I just don’t know when to shut up,” I said.
She put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to her. “I know. But you can’t piss off everyone who doesn’t wear matching outfits. We live in Humptulips, not Paris. And nobody cares if they wear polka dots with stripes.”
I shuddered at the thought. Only one pattern at a time, people. “I know. And I’m trying to get better. But I work best with baby steps. And, Sunshine, you really can’t wear dots with stripes. That’s just not done.”
She ignored my unwanted fashion advice. “Have you told your friends about your shop yet? Don’t you think Willa and Stella would jump at the chance to help you out? You can’t do it all on your own. And you have to tell Mom and Dad. They’d want to support you.”
Even though we weren’t related by blood, she always called my parents Mom and Dad. I did the same for hers. And I knew I had to tell people or there would be hell to pay.
“I know, I know. Now stop making me feel bad. I’ll let my parents know when we go out there tomorrow. As for Willa and Stella, I just need a little more time to make sure I don’t screw this up.”
“You know they won’t judge you no matter if you fail or succeed.”
“I know.” But if there was one thing I was most afraid of, it was failure. I’d already failed epically in my personal life. First with Ray, then I pissed off my brother when I hooked up with his best friend—who, in my defense, told me he
returned my feelings, even though it turned out they magically disappeared after our one night together—and now I was screwing things up again by sleeping with Oliver. Anna had become a wonderful friend, and I thanked her by hooking up with her brother. What a shitty shit friend I was.
But I could at least control my professional life, and there was no way I’d screw it up before I’d even taken the first step. I needed this to be a success. It was the only thing I had left.
“Let’s come up with a plan to stop the mall from being built,” I said and dragged Sunshine out of the meeting. She would have stayed and talked to every single person in there. Instead, we went home and plotted over ice cream and ginger beer.
“Is that a—”
“Yup.”
“And a flower to cover up—”
“Yup.”
“Don’t tell me they even used ferns—”
“Oh hell yes they did.”
“And that would be a—”
“I’ll stop you right there.”
I nodded, the movement thankfully distorting my view for a moment. “Thanks. Appreciate it. I don’t know why I would even go there.”
Sunshine groaned. “Let’s just get this over with. Who knows how long this latest fashion statement will last. No sense in prolonging the inevitable. And at least they’re not naked.”
“Not sure which option would be preferable,” I said.
Even though we’d parked in the driveway of my parents’ house, we made no move to get out of the car. Because some things you couldn’t unsee, and both Sunshine and I were not willing to recreate the summer when we turned fourteen. No, thank you. I was still having nightmares from my parents’ fashion trend that year. One word: Lycra.
“Are you going to get out?” Sunshine asked, but she made no move to open her door.
“Let’s not rush things,” I answered and stared at the floor, which I deemed the best spot to look at if I wanted to save my eyesight.
“They spotted us,” she pointed out.
“We’re in a bright yellow bus. Hard not to,” I said and lifted my head. And there they were, walking toward us as if they weren’t on the way to permanently scar their only daughter.
“You think it would be rude to just turn around and come back in a week?” I asked, wishing I had the smarts of my brother Liam, who had moved to San Francisco to become some big-shot lawyer.
Sunshine sighed. “You know that’s not the right thing to do. They’re your parents.”
“Fine. But only if you agree to whiskey and waffles tonight.”
“As if I’d say no. Come on, let’s get out there. And don’t judge things you don’t understand.”
Not sure there was anyone out there who understood my parents. But instead of prolonging my fate, I opened the car door and slid from Sunshine’s van.
“Mairead, I missed you,” my mom greeted me. She hugged me to her barely covered chest and swayed from side to side. “Your aura is too dark. Are you eating enough? Are you using the crystals I gave you? Your hair doesn’t shine. It usually shines. What happened?”
“Nothing happened, Mom. I’m fine. And I wish you’d stop calling me that.”
“But it’s your name. And you know you can always move home if you need to. Your old room is still there.”
“I know. But I’m doing okay. Promise.” And my old room was painted pink and plastered in Backstreet Boy posters with only a single bed in there.
She released me from her grip and stepped back, still holding on to my shoulders. “I made some cookies. They’ll fix you right up.”
One thing everyone should know when setting foot inside the Slater household: never eat anything. They laced half of it with pot; the other half came from whatever the earth wanted to gift us. My mom’s words, not mine. But it was an apt description of what we were working with here. Hence why I would stay far away from her baking.
“I just ate, but thanks, Mom,” I said. See, my manners were already improving.
The corners of her mouth tipped up, and she put her hand on my cheek. “Okay, just help yourself if you get hungry.”
I nodded, and she released me.
My dad was right there, holding his arms out. “Pumpkin, come and give your old dad a hug.”
I put my arms around his substantial midsection and held on tight. I loved my mom, but my dad had always been my hero. He might have an interesting fashion sense, as evidenced by his current look of burlap sack pants and fern woven top, but he was 100 percent in my corner. I could always count on him, no matter what.
Even though they looked at the world a little differently than most people and we never agreed on anything, their hearts were always in the right place. And if there was one thing I had always wanted in my life, it was a man who treated me like my dad treated my mom. Thirty years together and you’d think they were still in the honeymoon phase.
I might not believe in “the one” anymore, but I was still hoping for a guy who wouldn’t screw me over by screwing someone else.
I peeled my cheek off his chest and kept my eyes on his face. Let’s just say sewing wasn’t one of my mom’s strong suits, and there were holes in strategically important places. “Good to see you, Dad.”
He beamed at me and took my hand. “Let’s go inside and catch up.” He turned to Sunshine. “Your ma called and said she’d meet you here. They booby-trapped the house again to test out their gear, so she didn’t want you to fall into a rigged hole by accident.”
Of course they did. Because why wouldn’t you when the weather was nice and all.
Sunshine’s parents lived on the property next door. Both our parents owned small hobby farms, so it was a twenty-minute walk or a five-minute car ride to get from one place to the other.
We all congregated in my parents’ cozy living room, Sunshine sat in one of the big armchairs, and I was sandwiched between my parents on the couch. My mom had somehow procured a hairbrush—her outfit certainly didn’t have any pockets, so I wasn’t sure how she managed that so quickly—and was furiously trying to tame my thick tresses that I hadn’t bothered doing anything with this morning.
“Sunshine, how is the new job going?” my dad asked.
“It’s going. Not sure I fit in though.”
“But, honey, you are a joy to work with. Are you having problems with someone?”
“One of the girls at the center is a bit difficult. But I’m sure once we get to know each other better, it’ll be all good.”
That was an understatement. Sunshine started a new job at a spa in town—the only one in town—and one of the other girls made her life a living hell.
“She’s a bitch is what Sunshine really means,” I corrected. Because why not call a bitch a bitch when the situation called for it?
“Mairead, you know you shouldn’t use that word to describe someone,” my mom cut in and yanked out a few knots.
I successfully fought the urge to huff. “Fine. She’s a bitter old woman who wouldn’t know how to be nice to somebody even if they gave her money to do it.”
“Mairead, don’t call her an old woman. That isn’t very nice,” Mom said while pulling on my hair like there was a prize for the fastest brush job.
“Argh, Mom, really? So she’s a woman past sixty who wouldn’t know how to be nice to somebody even if they gave her money to do it,” I said, trying with all I had in me not to roll my eyes.
“What’s ‘nice,’ anyway? Your nice might not be the same as her nice. What if she thinks she is being nice? Perception, my child,” Mom said.
Okay, now I was rolling my eyes and didn’t care who saw it. “You’re killing me. But fine. She’s a woman past sixty who likes to insult other people.”
“But is she really insulting them? Speaking the truth and insulting someone come from different places in your heart,” Mom said and finally stopped yanking on my hair.
“You mean one doesn’t come from the heart at all. And I don’t think she’d agree with you, Mom. In fact, few
people would. Because I speak the truth all the time, and look where that’s got me. People think I’m a bitch.”
“Did we not just establish that there is no use for that word?”
“Fine. People think I’m too generous with sharing my thoughts.”
“Well, I don’t think you’re a bitch, baby girl. And it’s important to be honest,” my dad chimed in.
“Thanks, Dad, I’ll keep that in mind next time I speak my mind and get yelled at.” I knew I was feeling sorry for myself, but where better to do it than within the safety of your family?
“Now who wants cookies?” Mom asked and pointed to a plate that was sitting on the table.
“Still full from lunch, but thanks,” I said.
“I couldn’t eat a thing right now. Maybe later,” Sunshine said.
“I’m here,” a voice called out from the front door. Nobody locked their doors, and if they did, most people would have a key anyway. That was just how we did things around here, and since our families were so close, there was no need to knock either.
Lillibell, Sunshine’s mom, came into the living room wearing a bright yellow kaftan, skintight leather pants, and furry boots. At least she was wearing a tank top underneath; otherwise, the transparent material would have revealed more than anyone in here was prepared to see.
She went to her daughter, and they hugged, swaying back and forth. I was next, and she hugged me just as long and hard, and I soaked it in. I was a hugger, despite my bluntness and occasional standoffish behavior. But I’d had to endure a lot of teasing and the occasional bullying growing up. It wasn’t easy when you wore hemp clothes your mom made you and your lunch usually included a wide range of vegetables. At least nobody ever tried to steal it. Hugs got me through it, and hugs would continue to make me happy.
That might have been part of the reason I instantly connected with Stella and Willa when we met. They were both huggers too—and it helped that we were all a little crazy.