Chapter 9
THURSDAY
A BLACK, JACKED up truck sped around Taylor on the wrong side of the road and pulled into the Strawberry Hills Golf Course parking lot before Taylor.
Jerk. He shrugged it off. Today, Thursday, was going to be a good day.
He’d slept well last night and ate a protein-filled breakfast thanks to his mom and her steak and eggs.
And to top off the morning, he was golfing with Dad.
Taylor turned off his car just as a text came in from Mason McCormick.
My grandma drives faster than you.
Taylor got out of his car to find his friend leaning arrogantly against the truck that had sped around Taylor illegally.
Mason almost looked the part of a millionaire home-town hero with his combed back hair, dark sunglasses and expensive watch.
But the look stopped there with the tattered jeans, well-worn cowboy hat, and dirty boots, which was more of his style in high school.
He was Juniper’s most famous export and part-time smolder machine.
“I’ll have you know my grandma was the Juniper Demolition Derby Queen,” Taylor said as he walked over to his high school friend.
“That’s just a glorified excuse to rear end people you don’t like on purpose.” Mason laughed and pulled Taylor into a hug and slapped his back a couple of times. “Good to see you man.”
“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you in person,” Taylor said. He leaned against the truck and studied his friend. “You look good. Did you shave?”
“I’m trying to be incognito.” Mason rubbed a hand over his scruff. “If you’d stop flying all over the globe, we could get a drink more often.”
Taylor raised his eyebrows. “You’re busier than I am, Mr. Pro Baseball player.”
“And somehow we both got roped into this charity event your girlfriend is putting on.” He punched Taylor in the shoulder, and they started walking to the club house.
“First, she’s not my girlfriend. Second, I’m not part of the auction. I’m just helping it get going.”
“You’re worried I’ll bring in more money than you, right?”
“Yes, yes. That’s exactly right, Mr. Ego. Oh. Careful as you go through the doorway. Your fat head may not make it.”
“Jealousy does not become you, Compton. Never did.”
“Mason.” Mayor Compton caught them before they made it too far. “Back for another round of Strawberry Days? I thought you swore it off after the last incident.”
“I paid for the repairs.” Mason glanced at Taylor. “Don’t ask. I come for the funnel cakes and stay for the drama.”
“You cause the drama,” Dad said with a chuckle.
“I miss out on all the fun,” Taylor said with a shake of his head as they walked to the first tee box. “I guess we need to talk.”
“If you can catch up with me on the green.” Mason took a practice swing and almost lost his club.
“Great,” Taylor laughed. “Then let’s make it interesting. Two teams. Me and Dad against you and—”
“We already lined him up with Chief Redd.”
Mason ran a hand over his face. “Do you think he’s forgotten about the dumpster fire?”
“The one from last year?” a deep voice said.
Mason cringed before turning around and extending a hand to the fire chief. “Chief. Good to see you. You have an excellent memory, sir.”
Chief Redd slapped Mason on the back. “We’ve got eighteen holes to talk. Let’s go.”
“You know”—Mason stepped back—“I don’t require a partner. I work alone.”
The chief crossed his arms, stared at Mason for a moment then threw his head back and laughed. “This is going to be fun. Let’s tee up, McCormick.”
Gerry raised his hand to stop them. “Let’s make this more interesting. Losers buy strawberry slushies for the winning team.”
“High stakes.” Mason ran a hand over his beard. “I like it.”
As they waited for their turn, Mason asked about the latest gossip.
Since Taylor hadn’t been home for a while, he had nothing to contribute, so his mind wandered in the same direction it had for the last few days…
Chelsey. He felt like he was back in junior high when he caught a glimpse of Chelsey Marie Hooper for the first time.
Had it really only been a few days since he drove into town, determined to leave as soon as he finished the assignment for Dad?
Why did it feel like his life was changing course?
Taylor’s phone rang. He almost didn’t answer the unknown number but thought better of it.
“Mr. Compton? This is Mr. Baird from OSHA.”
“Yes?” Taylor’s stomach clenched.
“I’m afraid we’re shutting down the Gathering Place for the next few days. The incident yesterday needs further review and there are numerous violations being added to the list. Thank you.” Mr. Baird hung up before Taylor could respond.
Did Mr. Baird call Chelsey as well? Or was it up to Taylor to break the bad news to her? He sent a quick text to her to ask how things were going. He sent a second text to Dad in the capacity of the mayor to let him know as well.
“Taylor? You with us?”
Mason stepped up and promptly sliced his ball so far left it hit a golf cart and disappeared from sight. Chief Redd burst out laughing. “You’d better stick to baseball, McCormick.”
“All for charity, right?” Mason and the chief went off to make sure no one was hurt and to try and find the missing ball, while Taylor and Dad drove to the next hole.
While Taylor wanted to catch up with his friend, he was glad for a moment alone with his own thoughts. He had a few decisions to make, and they were all swirling around his brain.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Dad asked as he took his putter from the bag.
“With inflation, it would be more like a couple of hundred-dollar bills for my thoughts.” Taylor grabbed his putter and followed him.
“You were thinking of a certain event planner, weren’t you.”
Taylor rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s kind of…amazing, isn’t she. She does everything and she’s everywhere around town. What doesn’t she do?”
“Well, she doesn’t date.” Dad glanced at Taylor. “And there’s no ‘kind of amazing’ about it. You get this face every time someone says her name, like you’ve been missing something you didn’t know you were missing and suddenly it’s right there in front of you.”
Taylor exhaled and lined up his shot. “I don’t know what to do. I fly back to Singapore in a week or so. I have meetings and projects. A whole life that I love. And she’s got Juniper and her job and friends.”
“Are you thinking of staying?”
Taylor hit a clean shot. “I’m thinking of everything lately.”
Dad nodded as they picked up their golf balls. “Have you ever been in a tug-of-war when your team isn’t quite strong enough?”
Taylor raised a brow. “Are you switching gears or making a plan?”
“Just stick with me. I was in one last year for Strawberry Days and almost threw out my hip. I planted my feet and tried to hold the line.” He spaced his feet apart and pretended to pull on a rope using his club.
“I was dragged quite a way before I finally let go. When I looked at my team, some had dropped out because they didn’t want to get hurt.
If they’d stay in and hung on, we would’ve won. ”
“Okay?” Taylor had a sneaky suspicion where Dad was going with the metaphor and decided to hear him out.
“You can give up, let go of the rope, or you can keep pulling her closer to you. You’ve got to be all in, feet planted.” Dad took off his hat and ran a hand over his hair. “Did that make any sense?”
Taylor laughed and patted Dad on the shoulder. “Not really, but I get what you’re saying.” He dropped his smile. “I don’t want to drag her along. I want her on my side of the rope, both of us working and pulling together. Like you and Mom.”
“We’ve had our hard times, times when it felt like we were pulling on opposite sides of the rope, but we’ve always been on the same team and somehow pulled together.”
“I see what you did there.” Taylor chuckled.
“Nothing like the present to ask her if she wants to be on your team. And Taylor?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s not waiting for a perfect plan. She’s waiting for you to say, ‘Let’s figure it out together.’”
Taylor stopped walking. “What if I mess it up again?”
“Son, what if you don’t?”
A cart full of high schoolers nearly ran them over with a We Love Strawberry Days banner duct-taped to the roof and blocking the driver’s view. Taylor laughed. “This town is in complete chaos.”
“And Chelsey’s the best part of it,” Gerry said. “Now let’s finish this round before someone puts glitter in the Gatorade again.”
Taylor’s phone pinged with a message from Rich.
Crap’s hitting the fan. Can you help?
What in the world did that mean? With a sigh, Taylor jumped into his parents’ car and drove into town. He’d do anything to help Chelsey, even shoveling out a sewer. He wrinkled his nose over that disgusting thought, but he knew he’d do it, for her.
As he passed the water feature out front of the GP, Chelsey came outside followed by a young girl in a cheer uniform. They hugged, and the cheerleader bounded away.
Chelsey’s eyes widened when she saw Taylor. “Hey, Tay. Did you hear the news as well? OSHA is shutting us down—again—and there’s nothing we can do about it. We’re moving the event outside.”
“Hey, Chelsey.” Rich waved Chelsey over to the side of the building. He wore his usual outfit of denim overalls and boots. “We gotta find some crappers and fast.”
Chelsey stopped short in confusion. “Say that again?”
“Someone from the city said we have to have porta potties now that the event is being held outside.” Rich pointed in the vague direction of the gazebo.
“Why can’t we use the ones inside?” Chelsey walked around the waterfall toward the back of the building.
Rich shrugged. “That’s what I asked, but I’m only the guy that fixes things.”
“And blows them up,” Taylor said as he followed Chelsey around the corner. All three stopped on the patio and glanced around, as if porta-potties were going to magically appear.
Rich chuckled. “I guess that’s true.”
Chelsey set her bag on a bench. “Why now? Why didn’t they say something about it last night?”