18. Devon
DEVON
The truck roars to life as soon as I turn the ignition. I wave at Mrs. Donahue, my fifth-grade English teacher and my next-door neighbor. She gives me a sweet wave back. “Have fun today!”
Of all of my years living next door to her, I’m not sure she’s ever seen me off with a ‘have fun today.’ I just give her another polite wave in response and back the truck out of the driveway. Trees with every colored leaf imaginable line the street. It’s like an autumn postcard.
I once thought the very first thing I wanted to do was get out of Harvest Falls, but when I was away, I missed it.
I missed how nice the people were. I missed the friendly greetings at every turn and how people genuinely cared how I was doing.
When I was playing for Buffalo, I was just another face in the crowd.
No one asked about my mother or grandparents.
To them, I was just Devon Lachey, the new forward on the team.
It turned out being just another person wasn’t everything it was supposed to be.
Of course, when people recognized me for being a hockey player, that was cool.
But I also found it pretty comparable to when people say hi to me here.
They don’t care if I’m sending goals into the back of the net or not, they like me either way.
My phone buzzes. The screen tells me it’s Bea, but calling from her business line. I put her on speaker. “Bea…”
“Dev, I was wondering if you have the time to make a stop here. One of the sinks in the bathroom isn’t working.”
Her café is only about twenty yards away off the square. “I think I can be there in about thirty seconds.”
“Oh good. See you soon.”
She hangs up, and I take my foot off the gas. Harvest Falls is getting busier by the day. Pockets of tourists can be seen on street corners. Others walk with the colorful maps the tourism board made. Luckily for me, I find a spot nearby to park.
I usually always get busier this time of year. If something is going to go wrong, it waits until there’s a business full of tourists. Last year, I had to redo a bench on Mark’s hayride because it just cracked in two after too many people were sitting on it.
After parking, I get out of the truck and reach into the bed to grab my toolbox before heading into the café.
The best part about working around town is that people always give me a little something from their shops for the help.
At Bea’s, I’m bound to get a coffee. At the hardware store, there’s always a piece of candy with my name on it.
The bell rings overhead signaling my arrival. Bea’s is pretty packed. Some locals, but even more tourists, and the baristas behind the counter look a little frazzled.
Bea waves with a smile then comes around the counter and leads me into the men’s bathroom. As soon as the door closes behind us, she says, “So?”
I peek around at the sink, turning both the faucets on and frowning when no water comes out. “So you have an unworking sink?”
She slaps my shoulder. “I’m talking about Ember.”
I stand up straight. “What about her?”
She makes a tiny noise of frustration. “Did you get a date with her or not?”
My lips peel back into a smile. “She didn’t tell you?”
“No. Suspiciously, she hasn’t texted me at all. I’m assuming you got her home okay last night.” The glint in her eye tells me she thinks that’s why she hasn’t heard from her new best friend.
“She was alive and well the last time I saw her.”
“Devon Lachey, I swear to God.”
I kneel, not bothering to laugh as I check the lines and then the valve. I groan, peering at her as I twist the line open. “Are you serious, Bea? Did you call me down here, faking an issue, just so you can ask me about Ember?”
She mock gasps. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stand, turning on the faucets now, which work fine.
She peers at it in feigned surprise. “You’re amazing.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Just tell me what happened between you two!”
“You mean what happened after you practically threw us in each other’s faces yesterday.”
“I could tell you both needed a push.” She peers around the sink like it’s a miracle it’s fixed. “And I have no idea what you’re saying about making something up about the sink.”
The thing about Bea is, she’s a terrible liar. She always has been. I learned early that she cannot be trusted when you’re trying to get away with something. All I can do is just chuckle at her. “Just for this, I’m not going to tell you a thing.”
She gasps, then narrows her gaze. “Don’t think Ember won’t if I ask her.”
I throw my hands up. “Go ahead. Ask her.” I grab my toolbox and walk toward the door. I have my hand on the handle when I say. “I have a sneaking suspicion you probably already did, and when she wouldn’t give up the goods, you decided you wanted to talk to me.”
“Wow…” Bea says. “Who’s overly suspicious now?”
“No, I just know how this town works.” I turn the handle and open the door and am met with about four locals leaning their ears toward the door. They walk away nonchalantly like they didn’t get caught red handed.
I turn toward Bea and gesture toward the offenders. “What, did you all call a meeting this morning?”
“So is it happening?” Raquel says from behind the counter.
I grin at Bea. Of all the ridiculous things to do, she would make up a plumbing issue with the café just to get me down here. “Don’t think I’m getting out of here without a coffee…on the house.”
A few tourists smile and put their heads together. Even they can see what’s going on. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” they reply back.
“Don’t move to a small town or this is the kind of thing that happens.”
They laugh even louder.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Bea singsongs as she gets my coffee together.
Raquel puts a cup right next to it as soon as Bea puts mine down. She gestures toward it. “For Ember. In case you screwed it up yesterday.”
“I didn’t screw it up yesterday.”
Bea throws her hands in the air. “He got the date!”
The whole café erupts into applause. Locals and non-locals all joining together, and I swear, this is the thing Bea will see in her reviews, and it’s also the ones Mom plucks out of online comments and places them on our website to prove how homey Harvest Falls is.
“Congratulations,” Raquel says as she puts the two cups in a carrier, and I grab it to go, giving graceful waves as I walk out of the café, the applause still following me.
Now I remember why it’s so difficult to start dating anyone around here.
The moment people get wind of it, it’s the whole town’s business.
Oh my goodness. Mrs. Donahue! That’s why she told me to have fun today! These people are nuts.
After putting my toolbox away, I get in the truck, safely secure the coffees, and drive out to the manor. When I park outside, I peer at it for a moment. In a few hours, we’ll be doing a few more rounds of the Haunted History Tour, and then I’ll be taking her to the hayride.
Knots form in my stomach. I rub the back of my neck, peering over at the Civil War costume in my front seat.
I have no idea what’s going to happen today, or tonight for that matter for our non-date, I just know there’s a heaviness surrounding it.
Like an important feeling. One that tells me this isn’t just another first date with a woman.
Ember blew into Harvest Falls and turned my life upside down in more ways than one. I’d almost given up on finding a partner. The number of single females is low in Harvest Falls, and there aren’t any who I haven’t grown up with or seen in diapers.
I grab the coffees and get out of the truck. A man comes out the front door, and I nod. He’s wearing a suit, though he appears vaguely familiar looking like I could place him if he weren’t dressed like that.
A few raps on the door later, and I’m walking into the manor. “Ember, I’ve got coffee.”
She walks down the hallway, and I stop in my tracks. Her face is crimson, her eyes rimmed in red and puffy. I set the coffees down on the first flat surface I can find and walk toward her. “What is it?”
She takes a deep breath like she’s trying to keep her voice even, but it doesn’t work. Her voice cracks immediately when she starts talking. “That was some sort of code guy. I’m being fined.”
“What?” A mix of anger and confusion pulses through me.
“He showed up at my door this morning and said he’d noticed the work that we’d done on the front of the house.
He said he worked for Harvest Falls, and he wanted to see around the place.
I was just so happy I started talking to him about all the things we’re doing.
He listened and listened until the end when he said that the manor is a historic landmark and that I can’t just make changes to it without requesting permission, and that I’ll be fined $1,500 for every change I made. ”
I’m already dialing my mother before she finishes her sentence. $1,500. Give me a break. “Hi Devon. To what do I owe this honor?”
“Mom, I’m with Ember. I—.”
“Oh, that’s great, Dear. Finally. We were all wondering when that was going to happen.”
I roll my eyes. “Mom, no. Listen, some code guy was just here and told her she’s being fined $1,500 for doing work on the manor.”
“No,” Ember says, speaking up. “$1,500 for each repair we made without permission.”
My eyes bug out of my head. “$1,500 each repair?”
Ember sniffles. “I can’t pay it. It’ll ruin me. I’ll have to sell, or not eat. I’ll—.” She breaks off with a small cry, turns her back, and retreats upstairs.
“Devon, what’s going on?” Mom asks.
“Ember’s really upset. Who is this guy, Mom? Does he have the authority to do that?”
“It was probably Pierce Nichols. He was just voted in as the code guy after Jim Parsons passed away.”
Pierce Nichols.
There are few families in Harvest Falls that I have issues with, but the Nicholses are one of them. One of the clan almost always runs against my mother for mayor, and now here, Pierce, the youngest, has got his hooks into the town someway. I knew I recognized him from somewhere.
“Well, is it true? Can she be fined?”
“I’d have to look at the code myself. I’m sure we can do something. Just tell Ember to hang on tight. I’ll have a talk with Pierce myself and we’ll get this straightened out.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I hang up and go upstairs, knocking on the wall when I reach the top. It’s been forever since I’ve set foot up here, and I’ve probably only been up here once in my life. The grandness is the same as downstairs, but this part of the house looks a little more rundown. “Ember?”
“In here,” she calls out.
I follow her voice, peering in disheveled and dusty bedrooms until I find one that’s clean. The furniture is all dusted, the floors are cleared, and Ember is lying on the bed, curled up with a tissue wiping her nose.
“My mom is going to talk to him.”
“He showed me the paperwork. It’s true. He had the code printed out. He even gave me a copy and highlighted that section in front of me. I mean, your mom knew what I was doing, what we were doing!”
Awkwardness runs through me as I stay in the doorway as if the bedroom is some intimate part of her I haven’t been granted access to yet. “She’s looking to see what she can do. She—.”
“I didn’t mean to make it sound like it’s her fault. Of course she doesn’t know everything at the drop of a hat. I didn’t even know that this house was considered a historic landmark, but of course it is. I should have been more careful.”
“I should’ve known too,” I tell her. “I guess Parsons didn’t do a lot by the book, which suited everybody.”
“This guy just said that had I asked, I probably would’ve been approved, but since I didn’t ask, he’s going to fine me. Devon, I can’t afford $6,000.”
“$6,000?”
“The floorboards and the trim in the ballroom, and then the paint and the floorboards on the porch.”
“But those are just restorative.”
Ember shrugs, and her shoulders seem so slight, so helpless.
Even though I probably shouldn’t, I walk forward and sit on the edge of the bed. “Hey, my mom is going to talk to him, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll have a talk with him. We can figure this out. I promise.”
Even as the words come out of my mouth, I’m hoping beyond hope that someone can talk some sense into Pierce even though the Nicholses are hard-headed.
“You think so?” she asks, peering up at me with watery eyes.
I don’t have the heart to tell her that I hope so, so I say, “I promise” again, and vow that I’ll fix this for her no matter what. She will not be burdened by this, and I’m sure as heck not going to let her fail. Or worse, have to sell Sleepy Hollow Manor.
How things have changed because the idea that she might have to sell the manor would’ve been welcome news to me before. Now, though, I’m sure that Sleepy Hollow has found its savior.
But maybe I can be Ember’s.