by Tonya Kappes
“These are the bungalows.” I gestured to the wooded area where you could barely see many bungalows’ front porches. “Bungalows one through four are for your group. I have the bridal party in bungalow one, the bride’s parents in bungalow three.” I handed the key to bungalow one to the bridesmaid, who seemed to be the most responsible, though it was a toss-up.
“Thank you,” Misty mouthed and took the key.
I laughed. “My feet are killing me.”
Amy Hill rushed to her side and took out a pair of more sensible shoes from the bag on her shoulder.
I ignored her comment because I wanted so bad to tell Misty she wasn’t dressed appropriately for a campground. But who was I to judge? I looked and acted exactly like her a couple of years ago.
“Bungalow two is for the groomsmen. I figured you’d want to be next to them.” I winked at Shay, who replied with a cute giggle. “Bungalow four is for the groom’s parents.”
Amy had opened her planner and was vigorously writing things down. Nothing that had anything to do with the Moon women was getting past her.
“You can’t put them on the opposite end, could you?” Misty questioned me with a hint of joking but a whole lot of seriousness, making me pause. “I’m joking. I’m sure your parents thought your husband wasn’t good enough for their little girl.”
“My parents are dead, and I’m not married.” I probably shouldn’t have said that, but I just blurted it out.
Jealous of Shay? Jealous of how much her mom lovingly doted on her? Yeah. All those. I still felt shortchanged in the parent department, since my entire family had been killed in a house fire when I was an early teen. Being put in the Kentucky foster care system wasn’t high on any girl’s list. However, I did end up being adopted by Mary Elizabeth Moberly, who I’d just re-established a relationship with after years of me not keeping up with her.
Another part of the Paul West saga that I’d put behind me was that Mary Elizabeth and Bobby Ray, my foster brother, called Normal home.
“Anyways…” I reeled in my feelings, since this was a business deal and I needed them to feel as comfortable as I could since we were going into the winter months in the forest. Not many people had the skin to camp or hike when there snow and bitter temperatures bit at your toes. “I’ve gotten all the goodies in there you sent.”
Shay had sent the bridesmaids gifts and bought the spa baskets from me. They included locally made items along with a nice white cotton robe and white slippers to match. I’d told Shay I’d take her group downtown so they could get a feel of the town and also take them to the wedding venue, The Barn, at the Old Train Station Motel on the other side of Normal. It sounded far, but it wasn’t.
“Thank you, Mae.” Shay squirmed with delight. “You’ve been so amazing. My family think Lewis and I are crazy for getting married here, but we love the outdoors and the atmosphere.” She twirled around, very aware that all the girls pointed their phones at her and put her images on all their social media accounts.
“Oh, Shay!” one of them yelled, and everyone gathered around her. “This has to go in the High Society magazine shoot.”
“High Society?” I was familiar with the national magazine. Who wasn’t?
“Yes.” Shay wiggled her shoulders. “Daddy knows people.”
I was sure, but I’d almost swear I saw Amy Hill roll her eyes. Or it might’ve been the sun catching her glasses at just the right angle.
“Her father is Tom Moon from Moonbucks Coffee.” Misty smiled.
“Misty Moon?” My “oh crap” meter went off. “Socialite Misty Moon?”
“The one and only. Please, don’t tell anyone I’m at a campground,” she muttered under her breath as she leaned over.
“Mom. This is Mae West.” Shay sounded like she knew me. “Paul and Mae West from Manhattan and the Hamptons. I read your story in the Times, and I had to come help you out. Come on”—she got close to me and nudged me—“you can’t tell me that you had no idea”—she rolled her eyes—“that Paul was scamming all of your friends.”
And that was how the Moons heard of Normal, Kentucky. And… I had a feeling they were never going to forget their time here.
TWO
“How do you know them?” Dottie had a tickle in her tone. She was enjoying how much fuss I attempted at trying to find something to wear from one of the clothing bins in my storage unit near the front of the campground.
We rented them to seasonal campers who kept their campers on site and only came a few times a year. Mostly they rented them for outdoor furniture and items they didn’t want to store in their campers.
“I told you. They were in our same social circle in the Hamptons. You know.” I stuck my nose up in the air. “Those types. I’d even gone to her house in Nantucket for a weekend fundraiser. Every guest had their own butler.”
I went back to digging into the bin, which clearly was no longer my taste. I’d not worn a designer label in a long time. Needless to say, these clothes were so outdated by Moon standards.
“Honey. You’ve got more class in your pinky now.” Dottie was so kind. She must’ve seen my struggle or the look on my face when I picked up an item of clothing and immediately stuck it back inside. “Besides, you got Henry all the time, not just a fancy weekend.”
I loved how Dottie always gave me the bright side of my life, not that I’d consider my tiny campervan or the Happy Trails lake a comparison to Nantucket and a personal weekend butler. I was happier than I’d ever been, but I wanted to prove it to the Moons.
“I can’t believe I have nothing to wear,” I groaned, putting the lid back on one of the bins to use as a seat. “Thank goodness I’m getting my hair done this afternoon.”
I didn’t get my hair done often, but when I did, I got highlights and a little snip here and there. Trust me when I say Cute-icles owner Helen Pyle didn’t have nearly the experience Shay Moon’s stylist had.
“I’m not sure why you care so much. You’ve got what they wanted. A place to stay while they have their wedding—and look at you.” Dottie’s finger circled. “You look way better than when you first got here.”
“Gee, thanks.” I laughed, not sure if it was a compliment.
“Look at your hair. It’s natural now. When you got here, your hair was stiff from all that hairspray. You wore a ton of makeup, and you didn’t have the greatest diet.” She rattled off all the bad things. “And that snotty attitude you had is long gone. It did you some good to hit rock bottom.”
“Again, gee, thanks.” I still wasn’t sure if she was trying to make me feel better because I’d not realized I’d changed so much. “Maybe that’s why I’m having a hard time trying to figure out something to wear. If I was still that same person, I’d probably have put on the white suit and a cute pair of flats, but the thought of wearing something like that makes me feel…” I stuck my tongue out and rolled my eyes up into my head, making Dottie laugh.
“See. That right there.” She shoved her finger in my face. “You’d never made that face when you first rolled into Happy Trails.”
“You know what.?” I put my hands on my thighs and pushed myself up to stand. “You’re right. These cropped jeans and maybe the light Happy Camper sweatshirt is the perfect outfit for a nice fall day to show them around.”
“That’s the Mae West I know.” Dottie smiled. “Plus, you might run into Hank, and he likes you in casual clothing.”
“He is volunteering today at the Chicken Fest booth.” I couldn’t wait to see Hank in a chicken hat like the kind Colonel Sanders from Kentucky Fried Chicken wore in his photos.
Chicken Fest was a local festival that was much larger in other towns in and around the Daniel Boone National Forest, but we did our best giving our thanks to Colonel Sanders for his contribution to our chicken industry and bringing universal attention to our state.
“Wait until you try Ty Randall’s fried chicken.” Dottie licked her lips. “I can taste it now.”
“I don’t think S
hay Moon or her mother would ever put fried chicken in their mouths.” The thought of it made me laugh so hard. “They’d think they’d gain ten pounds just looking at it.”
“Wouldn’t that be something.” Dottie’s eyes light up. “Bride’s day is ruined because you took her to eat fried chicken and she couldn’t fit into her dress.”
The idea of it made us laugh so hard that tears streamed down our faces. Both of us jerked around when we heard a knock on the outside of my storage unit.
“Shay.” I couldn’t help it, but seeing her and saying her name sent me into another fit of laughter.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” She stood underneath the garage style door in an outfit much more appropriate for the chill in the air, no longer wearing the veil or sash. Amy Hill was still by her side, looking down and not saying a word. “But you mentioned you’d take us to see the wedding venue and downtown Normal.”
“We need to get moving, since I did make room in the schedule for this. I also let Mr. Moon know the change and put it on his Google calendar.” Amy nodded.
“Ooh-kay.” I couldn’t help but want to grab Amy by the shoulders and shake her until she could unwind a little. “Are y’all ready?” I asked.
“Yep. We all piled in the RV, so I figured you could ride shotgun to lead the way.” Shay wasn’t dumb. She was in charge and knew exactly what she wanted.
“Perfect.” I looked at Dottie. “You good for a while?”
“All good.” She put her hand up when I started to say something else. “I’ve got the dogs.”
“Thank you.” And that was how Dottie and I worked. She always knew what I was going to say and was always there to take care of Fifi and Chester, now that he was there.
One-way roads ran down Main Street, with a grassy median between them. The median was a large area filled with picnic tables and large oak trees on each side of an amphitheater and covered seating area. Thick white pillars you’d see on the front porch of a plantation home held up the structure. Each post had a real gas lantern hanging off it. Large ferns toppled over several ceramic planters. There were twinkling lights around each pole, giving the entire area such a romantic feel. Soon the ferns would be replaced with winter flowers as the trees shed their leaves.
Several little white tents were set up in the median today, since the Chicken Fest was in full swing. Amy Hill drove the big RV, to my surprise, and did it well. I’d only learned to drive RVs after I’d moved to Happy Trails just in case I needed to help a guest. Luckily, my little campervan wasn’t this big. But I also had a small car I drove around town, which helped me keep my home sitting on the concrete pad at the campground.
Little shops ran along each side of Main Street. All the shops were free standing cottage-style homes with a small courtyard between them.
The stores included the Smelly Dog, which was a pet groomer, the Normal Diner, and the Tough Nickel Thrift Shop and Deter’s Feed-N-Seed, along with more boutique-type shops that I couldn’t wait to check out. The display windows of each shop even had visions of what the national park looked like during the fall and winter months to help entice tourists to come back, since the winter tended to be our slowest season. The Trails Coffee Shop, our only coffee shop, had a line out the door for the delicious original blend being served. A month ago, I was lucky enough to have gotten an early sample, since Gert Hobson and I were friends.
She was the owner of the coffee shop and also contributed to some of the specialty baskets I offered at Happy Trails. Plus she provided all the free coffee I kept for the guests in the campground’s hospitality/recreation center.
All the store-owners in Normal really did help out to promote everyone and everything so tourists would keep coming back.
“My stomach is growling,” one of the bridesmaids mentioned. They were all were glued to the RV’s large windows with the sheds pulled up so they could all get a look at our cozy town.
“That’s the smell of Ty Randall’s fried chicken.” I was a little partial to Ty’s food. He owned the Normal Diner and was once a pretty sought-after chef in San Francisco, California.
Luckily for Normal, he found his way back to his roots and almost found a spot in my heart after a brief courtship, but in the end, Hank Sharp the man, not the manners, had won my pitter-patter.
“Don’t even think of it,” Misty warned the group of squealing women. Unfortunately, I think they’d overtake her.
“We are so going, Mother. It’s my wedding.” Shay’s mouth was practically watering. “Will it still be open after we check out the venue?”
“Don’t worry.” I couldn’t help but notice the worried tone in her voice about missing out on the fried chicken. “You’ll have plenty of time. It’s not like it’s New York City, where everything is go-go-go. Normal is like a turtle.”
The slow-paced life did take some time for me to get used to, and some days I did long for the hustle and bustle of the city street, but looking at Shay and her friends made me not miss it at all.
“Mae,” Shay had a tone in her voice that made me immediately think she was about to ask me a favor. “Can we have my rehearsal dinner at the fest tonight?”
“Rehearsal dinner at a Chicken Fest?” Misty nearly broke her leg making her way over to Shay and me.
Amy Hill snickered from behind the big RV steering wheel. Shay’s head jerked toward the driver’s seat. Amy was looking back, using the rearview mirror, and must’ve caught Shay glaring back at her because I noticed Amy’s fingers grip the wheel and her knuckles whiten.
“Mother.” Shay’s nostrils flared. Her eyes grew big. “This is my wedding. Mine.”
“I’ve never heard anyone having a rehearsal dinner at a chicken festival. It won’t look good on the societal pages.” Misty Moon hadn’t changed a bit. She was still all about what it looked like to others, not what made her daughter or even herself happy.
“It’s my wedding. My daddy said I can have whatever I want, and I want my rehearsal dinner there. Tonight.” She crossed her arms as if that was that and that was the final say.
Misty let out a long sigh and slowly blinked before she sat back down on the RV couch.
“Just keep going straight and take the curves slow. It can get a bit windy through the park,” I told Amy when I felt her slow the RV down and sat back to enjoy the gorgeous day shaping up, because circumstances in here weren’t going well at all. There was so much tension between the mother and daughter.
The bridesmaids ohh’ed and aww’ed over the foliage.
“What tree is that with the pink ones?” Shay had pointed out the sassafras tree.
“That’s a sassafras.” I continued to tell her that it was unusual how more than one leaf shape occurred on the tree and mentioned that the yellow, orange, red and pink leaves made it a very distinguished tree for the fall.
“I have to say, it is beautiful here.” Nothing was wrong with Misty’s eyes. She was seeing all the autumn season had to offer, and the forest was showing off for them today.
“It is, and it’s one reason I didn’t come back to the city.” I gestured out of the front windshield. “Fawn Road is coming up on the right. You’re going to turn, and the Old Train Motel will be right down the road.”
Shay nodded.
“I thought you’d not come back so you didn’t have to face everyone.” Misty held nothing back, just as I remembered people saying about her.
“No. I had nothing to do with Paul’s shenanigans and criminal activity. Everything he did to everyone here in Normal, I’d made good on.” I quickly told them how I’d helped get the economy jumpstarted again by working hard to bring the campground back to life and bringing them what they saw today. I also threw in how I’d gotten the key to the city. “I could’ve sold since I’ve had plenty of offers, but I’ve found a true life here. I’m in love with the slow life that did take me a hot New York minute to get used to.”
They all laughed at my joke.
“Honestly, the warmth of the people i
s what kept me here. I feel like I finally belong.” I stopped talking when Amy pulled into the motel parking lot.
Old Train Station Motel was pretty new. Not the structure—that was centuries old. Coke Ogden, the owner of the motel, had made huge renovations on what was a real train station that had been a source of travel to and from the Daniel Boone National Park.
The massive concrete station was beautiful, framed by the dramatic backdrop of the mountains of the national park. Coke had a great idea to use one of the old barns, after tons of money were thrown in, to make it structurally sound and back to gorgeous, as a wedding venue.
When I first moved here, I’d read about the property where the Old Train Motel was located. Some of the hardest trails and climbs of the area had started on the property. Those trails were the most appealing to tourists who came to Normal for the hiking.
Right in the middle of the motel was a domed, circular, open courtyard area with six massive concrete pillars holding up a dramatic patina metal roof with a rooster weather vane. The one-level covered structure jutted out equally on both sides of the dome, with five doors on each side and those same big concrete pillars standing tall and ornate.
The structure had ten doors with only ten rooms, so getting rooms was very hard. Coke had plenty of room to expand, but from what I’d heard, she wanted to make sure she could keep the ten rooms booked and grow from there.
Amy had put the RV in park and opened the door. I stepped out first. Coke was working in the vegetable garden she’d planted on the right side of the property. She stood up and looked over at me from underneath her wide-brimmed hat.
“Mae West, did you upgrade?” she hollered from the other side of the black Kentucky Fence Post, the actual name for the fence Coke had put around the property.
“Hey, Coke!” I waved and stood next to the RV door while the women filed out. “This is your client, Shay Moon.”