Chapter 24
Cyrus was the last one to pull up to our parents’ house even though he’d requested Dial and I meet him there. As mayor you’d think punctuality would be a mandatory job requirement. But Cyrus was only on time for things that were really valuable to him, and he knew Dial and I would grant him a fifteen-minute grace period. Our parents were in Gainsborough looking at properties. Which, along with the for-sale sign at the entrance road, made their move all the more real.
“Why are we here?” Dial didn’t even wait for Cyrus to fully exit his car.
“Goddamn, does no one know how to say hello?” he asked.
“Hello, how are you? How’s the family?” I joked.
“Why are we here? Edison and I left Figs and Twine early to meet you.”
“Stop acting like you and Eddy are a two-man crew. You have staff who are more than capable of handling things while you’re out.”
“I believe the inclusive phrasing would be two-person crew. You should know that Mr. Mayor,” Dial chided.
Cyrus ignored her, a determined look on his face. “I have a proposal.”
Dial checked her phone, her interest already waning. “Shoot.”
“I think we should buy the farm.”
My antenna immediately started to rise. I wanted to save the farm too. But Cy wasn’t sentimental, so his suggestion took me by surprise.
“No.” Dial turned to head back to her car.
“I’m serious.”
“You want to buy Mom and Dad’s place?” I said. Fancy suggested I do something similar but at the time it seemed far-fetched. I opted not to broach the subject because I didn’t want Cyrus and Dial teaming up to make fun of me for being mushy and idealistic.
“I’ve done my research. It’s a great investment. We could rent it out for a few years. Maybe expand and add some tiny guest homes outback. Everyone says how beautiful this property is. We could host family reunions or weddings.”
“Okay you’ve got my attention,” Dial said.
“I’ve prepared portfolios for both of you. And I already have an investor.” He handed off a substantial folder.
“Investor? Portfolio? Hosting events? This all sounds like a lot of work.” I scanned through the documents.
“Who’s the investor?” Dial asked.
“Anything worth having is worth working hard for.”
“Nobody is coming to Hume on vacation,” Dial said.
“As the mayor of this town, I’m privy to things you’re not. People pay for experiences. If we offer a small-town country vibe, leave the hustle and bustle of the city behind. Disconnect get one with nature, ride a fucking horse, milk a cow. Eat real farm to table meals. Rich white people will flock in droves and Black folks will do it for the plot.”
“So, this isn’t about saving our childhood home and more about lining your pockets,” I asked.
“Our pockets. The collective, the originals. The core four.”
“Who the fuck is the core four?” Confusion lined Dial’s forehead.
“You, me, Edison, and Francesca.”
“You’re losing me with the Francesca thing. How is she a part of this core four?”
“She’s Edison’s girlfriend. And she has deep pockets. She probably has a pool of money she jumps into each night. Let’s not let the pretty brown eyes fool us. She’s rich.”
“I don’t know if she’d go for this entrepreneurial endeavor. And I’m not really feeling you referring to my girlfriend as Scrooge McDuck.”
“She’s the big-name celebrity that is going to post aesthetically pleasing images on her social media site and get the word out.”
“And what’s my role?” I asked.
“You’re good with a hammer and growing things.”
“Wait, you’re actually serious?” I didn’t see this power move from Cy coming.
“Yes, at first, I just wanted to save our childhood home. But then I got to thinking and looking at comps on these other secluded vacation destinations. And I figured?—”
Dial interrupted him. “You figured this would be a feather in your cap. Bringing tourism to Hume. Local businesses would profit. Your constituents would love you.”
“Hold up,” I interjected. “How much profit are we talking about?”
“I don’t know. That’s where Dial comes in. She’s the numbers gal.”
Dial paced back and forth. “There would be the initial investment. Your mystery investor could help absorb some of that cost. And then renovations to ensure the house can accommodate multiple guests. A build-out of several tiny guest houses. We’d need staff, housekeeping, a chef, and maintenance crew. Very rough estimate we’re talking a couple million dollars. And that’s just to start.”
“Split five ways.”
“A million dollars each?” I guffawed.
“We can reduce that considerably with sweat equity.”
“Whose sweat exactly? Because I’ve never seen you swing a hammer, let alone build anything,” I asked.
“We could take a loan against the house. Maybe Figs and Twine,” Cy said.
“No, not Figs and Twine. I’m not sacrificing a sure thing to roll the dice on a maybe.”
“I kind of agree with Edison. The money would have to come from outside of the nursery. Because if we lost that mom and dad would never let us forget it.”
Cyrus raised his hands in the air. “Okay well you’re the accountant so figure it out. We have this house and collectively we could take loans out on our individual properties. And if it all goes to shit, we can just move back into our childhood home. One big happy family.”
“You joke, but that could be a real possibility.”
“Don’t act like you’re not foaming at the mouth at the thought of us all under one roof, momma’s boy.”
“Hey—”
Dial interrupted my objection. “I need to crunch the numbers before we seriously consider this.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” Cyrus rubbed the whiskers on his chin.
“This would be a heavy lift. We all have full-time jobs.” I hoped to ground the conversation back in reality.
“I’m ready to be a weekend warrior if you are.” Cyrus was a great salesman, but I suspected when it came time to roll up his sleeves he’d be MIA.
Dial had a familiar twinkle in her eyes similar to when she suggested we push Cyrus out of Figs and Twine. “It does sound exciting.”
“And this could be something for Maple and future generations. Figs and Twine and this resort spot. That’s major moves.” Cyrus was adding the cherry to the sundae.
“We could just buy the place and do nothing,” I suggested.
“Don’t be a baby Eddy.”
I looked to Dial for support.
“Is that a counterproposal?” she asked.
“Yes, it is.”
“Okay let’s hear it.” Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest.
“Uhm …well. We could buy the house and consider it an investment property.”
“How does that make us money?”
“It doesn’t but it keeps the house in the family.”
Dial cringed. “Sorry Eddy, I like Cy’s idea better.”
“I wasn’t exactly prepared to present a comprehensive pitch.”
“I think it’s this or nothing. And we all get what we want. Dial gets a chance to expand the Birch empire. I get to boost Hume’s economy. And Eddy gets to save his childhood home.”
“Our childhood home.”
“Sure buddy.” He winked at me.
“What do you think Edison?” I could tell Dial liked this deal and after she ran the numbers, she’d probably love it.
“Maybe.” I chose to be noncommittal. I wanted to save the house. But I already had so much shit on my plate I didn’t think it was possible to add more. “I just need to read the proposal and do some Googles of my own. Talk to Fancy.”
“Bonus selling point, it could be fun. The Birch kids working together again.”
“Hmm …maybe.”
“Okay well I’ve got to run. Because unlike you two crumb bums, I have important people waiting for me.”
“No, you don’t,” Dial said with a straight face. He was the mayor of Hume, but he was also our brother so he would always get roasted.
Cyrus threw up two crisp middle fingers for me and Dial to share.
In the time Fancy had been away, I’d tried busying myself with projects that would keep my mind off missing her. I spent long days at Figs and Twine reorganizing the sales floor and greenhouse to make room for new plant arrivals. At home I focused on cataloging as many items as possible so I could sell them through online auctions. The living room would be almost unrecognizable when Fancy returned. Gone was the artwork depicting slices of farm life, the assortment of figurines and nesting dolls which were sold as a lot and earned me a pretty penny.
Why Mr. Castle collected so many candle holders I would never know, but I sold over twenty of them. I kept a few that were made of silver; after removing the tarnish I was able to appreciate their beauty. In the bedroom, I spent a great deal of time moving around clothes and shoes, making space for Fancy to spread out. On the property, I hired a crew to erect a three-stall stable. Cotton Candy would need a proper home and maybe a friend.
All this busy work made me anxious; the time wasn’t ticking fast enough and the days, which normally fly by, now seemed to drag. Fancy and I talked or texted every day. When they performed in Nashville, I was in the front row cheering her on. In the middle of the show, surrounded by the crowd of screaming fans, I started to feel guilty. Hard to believe she would willingly walk away from all this.
Leaving Whiskey Wild had nothing to do with me. It was more about the deterioration of her relationship with Darla. But that night while we lay in the hotel bed, I let her know I would always support her and her dreams were my dreams. I don’t think it needed to be said, but I could tell she appreciated hearing it.
In a few hours Fancy and I would be reunited. Last night I lay awake silently, willing the moon to disappear under the horizon. At the first signs of the sun, I was up and knocking out my chores. Today was similar to the first day of school. You’d pick out an outfit the night before and got a fresh haircut and you couldn’t wait to get to school and walk the halls in your fresh new fit.
I’d offered to pick Fancy up from the airport, but she declined, stating she wanted our reunion to take place on the farm. So, although her plane landed an hour ago, I still had to wait for Oz and her to make the trek to Hume. I hoped time made her heart grow fonder and the distance wasn’t giving her pause. I’d be lying if I said I was one hundred percent confident. More nights than I liked to admit, I sleeplessly analyzed our conversations, the hitch in her voice, the delay after I told her I loved her.
Love is terrifying. When you step back and think about it, it’s a wonder people willingly open themselves up to it. I was a creature of habit and up until recently my life could be described as run of the mill. But Fancy swooped in and turned all that on its head. Now I spent my days distracted, thinking about our conversations from the night before. The funny stories she would share made me laugh until my belly ached. Or being able to stare into her chestnut brown eyes during our video chats, which often turned steamy. Love was all-consuming and it didn’t leave room for much else.
When his souped-up truck pulled in front of the house, I nearly tripped over my feet trying to get to the door. I spotted my girl waving from the cab of the truck and I returned the gesture. Both my wave and smile were big and exaggerated. Fuck playing it cool. I missed her and once the truck slowed to a stop, I accosted the passenger door, pulling her from the cab.
Her arms wrapped around me, clapping my back. God I’d missed her hugs. They were the best. Fancy’s body was warm and soft and the fragrant scent of honeysuckle clung to her person. She’d been gone so long the house no longer smelled like her. All traces of her existence were eliminated. I tried to replicate the fragrance with fabric spray on my bed linens, but it wasn’t the same.
When her lips touched down on mine, it was like a cosmic reset. All the time apart, all the lonely nights, all the doubt dissipated. It was just me, my favorite girl, and the country air with hints of bluebells, freshly mowed grass, and laundry drying on the line. Oz didn’t even cut off the engine, he removed her two large pieces of luggage from the truck and just drove off. Fancy and I were too busy kissing to acknowledge his departure.
“Let me get a look at you.” I pulled away and surveyed her frame, looking for even the minor of changes. At this point, I had Fancy’s face mapped out like I’d majored in the science of perfection and all things Francesca Palmer in college. I could identify every dimple, freckle, and the flicks of amber in her eyes.
“I haven’t changed.”
“I think your ass got fatter.” I gave her cheeks a playful smack.
Fancy preened, “Really? Because when I wasn’t on stage, I was posted up in a hotel gym on the Stairmaster.”
“Them steps did a body good.”
“You look the same. But it’s hard to improve on greatness.”
The softness of her skin turned my heart into a wreck. “Is this real? Or are you just another one of my dreams?”
She leaned in close, kissing my neck. “Does this feel real?” Trailing her tongue up toward my ear, she gave it a nibble. “What about this?” Her lips dusted mine and she examined my crotch. “Your dick is practically busting through your jeans. I don’t know but that feels very real.”
“I’m gonna need more evidence than that. Like me inside of you.”
“Yes, immediately yes.”
I chased her into the house and up the stairs. The bags could wait. We needed to formally reintroduce ourselves. And for much of the afternoon we fucked one another dizzy. Being able to duck my head in between her perky breast and just breathe her in was damn near life affirming. Every thought, desire, and wish had Francesca at the center of it.
When we finally came up for air. Fancy smiled wide. “You changed the sign?”
“I did.” Instead of saying Castle Farm. The sign to the entrance of my property now read Welcome to Whiskey Wild Farm. “I hope you’re okay with me using the name? I don’t want any static from your legal team.”
“I love it. It’s perfect and thoughtful.” Fancy massaged the nape of my neck.
We hadn’t stopped touching each other since her boots hit the dirt. I scooped her face in my hand and placed strategic kisses along her collarbone. “That’s not the only changes I’ve made, but I can give you a tour tomorrow.”
“Did you miss me? ” she asked with uncertainty. The effect of being apart for three months.
“I damn near put you through this mattress, that’s how much I missed you.”
“You know what I need?”
I let out a goofy laugh. “I know what you need.” My dick expanding, ready for round three.
“I was going to say food.”
“Oh wow, embarrassing.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not turning down the dick, never that.”
By the time we made it out of the bedroom, the sun was hiding behind a thicket of trees. Hunger pangs were more persistent than my libido. In the kitchen I created two large salads with steak I’d grilled earlier while waiting for her return. This is what I’d missed, Fancy in nothing but a tank top and panties navigating the kitchen while occasionally caressing my chest or kissing my back. The thought of just this simple act sustained me over the past few months.
We sat on the porch and enjoyed our meal. Fancy hummed softly in between bites. Her feet propped up in my lap. I wasn’t the guy who won the girl, but here I was with the woman of my dreams. A smile the size of Texas overtook my features, crinkling the corners of my eyes and pinching my cheeks.
“What?”
“I just love you. And it’s dawning on me I am the luckiest man in all of Hume.”
“Just Hume?”
“I can’t say the entire world because there’s a man out there married to Kelly Rowland.”
“Yeah, I didn’t miss your obsession with Kelly.” We both shared a laugh.
Love is all about two people feeling the same thing at the same time. A rush of satisfaction washed over me. If there was more to be had in this world, I’d pass. All I needed was Fancy, this farm, and the life we’d make together.
“Are you happy, Fancy Palmer?” I had zero regrets and hoped she felt the same.
“I’m with you so happiness is guaranteed.”
And that was music to my ears.