Chapter 2
TUESDAY
TAYLOR COMPTON SLOWED down to the crawling speed limit of Juniper Valley and slapped the roof of his rented car as he entered the city limits. Old habits die hard. He hadn’t done that in a long while. Since I left town seven years ago.
He pushed that last thought from his mind and pulled into the parking lot of Bake Me Happy.
He craved one of Annie’s famous cinnamon rolls and coffee to get him started this morning.
The twenty-plus hours flight from Singapore was long and he still felt jetlagged, even with an overnight in LA.
He yawned hard enough to make his eyes water.
“Well, as I live and breathe.” Annie put a hand over her heart when he walked through the door. “Taylor Compton, get over here and give me a hug.” She stepped around the counter and opened her arms for him.
Annie always gave the best hugs. Probably because she smelled of vanilla and cinnamon and held you tight enough to know you were important to her.
“Do you have time to sit a spell?” she asked as she slipped back around the counter. She picked up tongs and took a huge roll out of the display case and set it on a paper plate in front of him. “I just pulled these out of the oven.”
“I need to get downtown.” He hated the look of disappointment on Annie’s face. Is that what he’d see with everyone he met and encountered while he visited home? “But I always have a few extra minutes for you.”
“Well”—she grinned and made a gesture to the other side of her bakery—“I bought café-style standing tables. Want to try one out? Just five minutes?”
“Sure. You can catch me up on the latest JV news.”
“That will take longer than five minutes, sweetie.”
Twenty minutes later, Taylor had eaten the warm sweet roll in front of him and had another to-go for the road.
Annie wasn’t one to gossip, so Taylor got all the good, positive news, like engagements and new babies.
She was as sweet as the pastries she baked.
He wished there was a man good enough to help make the loneliness in her eyes dissipate.
She pulled him into another crushing hug. “Come back before you leave.” She winked at him. “I may be making raspberry crisps.”
It was Taylor’s turn to put his hand over his heart. “Why are you doing that to me?” He smiled. “I’ll stop by on my way out.”
“I like that I’m your first and last stop.” She handed him a cup of coffee to go. “Welcome home.”
Welcome home.
Guilt crawled its way up his insides as he hurried back to his rented car.
He planned to stay only long enough to check out the old buildings around town.
His dad wanted to upgrade the town by demolishing the “useless” houses and storefronts, but the longtime locals wanted to upgrade the structures inside and out and keep the local history fresh.
Taylor snuck a bite of Annie’s specialty and sighed. He really should buy a couple more for his parents. He almost went back inside when a sign fluttering in the breeze caught his attention.
Snag a Handsome Guy and a Pic-a-nic Basket!
This week was Strawberry Days? Why hadn’t he paid better attention to the dates when he booked his flight?
This was a small-town festival he wanted to avoid.
Everyone would be out and about, mostly downtown, where he would be working.
Growing up, the first week of June was something Taylor always looked forward to: funnel cakes, carnival rides, rodeo, fireworks, strawberries and cream for days.
Friends and family were the best part of the week.
But in high school, Chelsey Hooper was the best part of that week.
He suddenly realized that he’d see her everywhere, since she volunteered to help with a lot of the events, notably the auction.
Hence, the reason he should try and avoid the week.
Maybe he could finish his work quickly and quietly and fly out early.
Taylor put his car in drive, cranked the A/C and drove the rest of the way through town, his mind distracted.
He’d lost track of Chelsey soon after he moved away, thanks to strict instructions to his mom about not wanting to know what the Hoopers were doing.
He didn’t think he was emotionally strong enough to handle hearing about Chelsey marrying and starting a family.
The only time his mom broke that oath was when Rhonda Hooper passed away after battling cancer.
If he was being truthful with himself, Chelsey had scared him a little bit with her plans of college and marriage. She was so smart and confident that Taylor was afraid she’d move on and ahead in all areas of her life without him.
He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Did she hate him for leaving so many years ago? For not being there when her mom was sick? Or after the funeral to be a shoulder to cry on?
But then the opportunity of a lifetime happened for him, and he left for Asia.
Taylor glanced out the window, trying to distract himself from Chelsey’s face—with her big hazel eyes and soft hair.
The trip through the north end of town was full of nostalgia and mobs of people.
Downtown Juniper was already hopping with the festivities a week-long event brought in.
Today was Tuesday. If he remembered correctly, the carnival as well as the quilt and art show would be going on.
After circling the block a couple of times, Taylor parked on the street and rolled down his window so he could take a good look at the real estate, which was hard to do since the area was filled with tents of little boutiques and food fitting snugly together.
Families, kids and couples mingled through the city park as they shopped, played and screamed on the rides.
A new park Taylor hadn’t seen before sat in the middle of downtown, complete with a slide, swings and climbing apparatus.
A couple of pavilions had been added and were full of people enjoying funnel cakes and corn dogs.
There were also several new trees, giving the area more shade.
He had to admit the place looked better, more grown-up while still retaining its historical charm.
Well done, Dad.
Taylor saw through the facade of his dad getting him back home on business, even for a few weeks.
They did a Zoom call at least once a week, so it wasn’t like they didn’t talk.
His parents had been dropping hints about a change in their lives and Taylor wondered if his dad was going to announce his retirement.
Mayor Compton, or rather, the city council, hired Taylor as an architect engineer to check on three of the older buildings a block west of the park.
The city council debated tearing down one of the structures and building a splashpad.
The building used to be the old skating rink, aptly named The Roller Rink.
Now it was used for various activities from tween dances to kids’ basketball practices to city functions.
Taylor had to access the structures and give an unbiased, professional opinion about renovating or tearing down.
This was a small but perfect job for his skill set.
Taylor stepped out of the rental car into the summer heat.
Summer in Colorado could still reach up in the nineties and apparently it was his lucky day.
He rolled his shirt sleeves up as he studied the outside of the red brick building first as best as he could over the vendor tents selling their wares.
The red-bricked exterior, arched windows and thick doorframes brought back memories of his ten-year-old self roller-skating for hours.
As he got older, the school and city hosted numerous dances in the building.
He kissed Chelsey Hooper at one of those summer dances.
Taylor jammed his hands into the pockets of his suit pants.
He hadn’t come here to reminisce. He was here on official city business to give his professional assessment as requested.
He’d do that, write up a report and get out of the valley sooner than later.
He’d finish this job week, spend a week with his parents then fly home, back to his apartment in Singapore.
Taylor observed an elderly gentleman maneuver his walker over a rickety ramp that built haphazardly for ADA accommodations and led the way into the old rink. Taylor hurried up the old wooden stairs to hold the heavy door open.
“Thank you, young man.”
Nostalgia and stale, warm air washed over Taylor as he stood in the doorway.
He inhaled deeply then slowly exhaled as he glanced around.
The ceiling had several bulging spots of water damage.
A couple of windows were cracked, and duct taped over; a few were still the Restoration Glass.
Wires and power strips were daisy chained and hung from the rafters.
There were cracks in the brick walls and a few bricks lay scattered on the floor under benches.
And that was just a quick glance. What about behind doors and walls, under floors and in the attic?
This was going to be a harder job than he realized, both physically and emotionally.
This place held a lot of his teen memories, and most of them were associated with a certain woman he couldn’t look in the eye at the moment.
People mingled around the area, enjoying the socialization as well as the handmade quilts.
At least twenty, if not more, works of stitching art were displayed on rolling chalkboards and long tables around the gym.
A couple of voting boxes were on a table in the middle of the floor, manned by a couple of silver-haired ladies.
Vote For Your Favorite Quilt a flyer announced.
Taylor glanced around the area again. Where to start his inspection?
“Isn’t this a lovely building?” a soft voice said. “I had my first kiss here.”
Startled at the quiet revelation, Taylor stepped back and bumped into a table, effectively knocking several pens to the floor.