Chapter 19 #2
I spot something up ahead—a blue truck pulled over on the side of the road with hazard lights blinking. I recognize Eli Hart, leaning over the bed and rooting around in his large toolbox. I see several hive boxes back there as well, strapped down for transport.
“No time like the present,” I say as I put on my turn signal to indicate I’m going to pull off the road.
This gets Caroline’s attention as I ease in behind Eli. “You know him?” she asks.
“Yeah… buddy of mine. Eli Hart. He’s an apiarist.”
“A what?” Chris asks from the back.
“A beekeeper,” Caroline provides, showing an intellect I imagine would be necessary for her line of work.
“That’s right. He owns an apiary.”
“To make honey?”
I put my truck in park. “That and beeswax products, but more importantly, he rents out his bees to assist in crop pollination for a lot of the berry farms.”
“That’s fascinating,” Caroline says, and then sucks in a breath when Eli raises his head and turns our way. His handsome face has her murmuring, “Oh, wow… do they make them all so ruggedly handsome around here?”
I have no clue what the standard is, but I don’t answer, instead saying, “Gimme a minute. Let me see if I can give him a hand since he’s got probably a hundred thousand employees in boxes back there. Feel free to get out and shoot some of the farmland here. It’s really pretty.”
I’m barely out of the truck before Caroline is scrambling out as well, Chris right behind with his camera on his shoulder.
Caroline lifts her hand to her forehead to shade against the sun and points over the freshly tilled earth.
Chris aims in that direction, and Derek watches from inside the truck.
Eli straightens as I approach, looks curiously at my guests, and then walks to greet me. He looks to them and then back to me. “Impressive posse you got going on there, Sam.”
I rub at the back of my neck. “Yeah… they’re filming me for an interview. Something called B-roll footage.” I toss a thumb over my shoulder. “It’s admittedly a little awkward.”
“I bet,” Eli chuckles. “That would be a hard pass for me.”
While Eli is friendly enough and will chat over a beer at Chesty’s once in a blue moon, he’s pretty much a loner. Always has been.
I lean to the right and check out his back tire, flatter than a pancake. Caroline and Chris creep closer to watch but maintain some distance. “Need any help?”
“Got it covered,” he says. “But I could use another set of hands this weekend if you can spare some time. Bought a used bottling tank from a guy in Sanford, and it’s too damn heavy to muscle down alone.”
“I got you covered,” I assure him. “Just text me when you’re ready.”
“Appreciate it.” Eli grabs a mason jar from a box in his cab and hands it to me. “For your efforts.”
Laughing, I accept the jar of honey with the slightly crooked Hart Apiary label. “Will never say no to this stuff. Later, man.”
“Later,” he says, and I head back to my truck. Caroline and Chris get back in and are seated by the time I’m closing my door.
“Get what you need?” I ask them.
“Sure did,” Chris replies.
As we’re buckling in, Caroline asks, “Assume your friend didn’t need any help?”
“Just a flat and he had it covered, but it’s a good thing I stopped. He needs help at his farm this weekend.” I show her the jar of honey before tucking it under my seat. “Advance payment.”
“Is everyone so friendly and helpful around here?”
I consider that, scratching at the scruff on my jaw. “Well, Eli’s not all that friendly, but yeah… we all help each other. I’ve got to clear out some bushes at the back of my property, and I’ll probably ask him to bring his backhoe over to help me at some point.”
“That’s really lovely,” she murmurs, jotting down a few notes. “True sense of community.”
“That’s the beauty of small-town living,” I tell her.
She looks at me longer than the moment probably needs. “I think that line just wrote your closing segment.”
We pull onto the road, and she reverts to interview mode. “How has success changed you?”
“It hasn’t. The same people who used to ask when I was getting a real job are now asking when the next book’s coming out. The questions changed. I didn’t.”
She chuckles. “You wrote under a pseudonym for years. Why reveal yourself now?”
I think about that—about Whynot, about Penny, about the porch light that always seems to be waiting for me, no matter how far I drift. “Because hiding stops feeling safe after a while. It just starts feeling small.”
Caroline nods, clearly pleased. Then, almost casually, “And the love stories? You write them with conviction. Does that come from experience?”
We hit the town limits and I look across the square to Central Café. Through the wide glass front, I catch a flash of Penny—hair tied up, sunlight making her glow like the angel I know her to be.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “It does. Comes from trying to get it right. And screwing it up enough times to recognize when it’s real.”
Caroline follows my gaze. “Sounds like you’ve found something you’d like to hold on to.”
I don’t look away from the restaurant. “I have.”
“Want to tell me more?”
“Nope,” I say with a grin, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to find Derek still engrossed in his phone. “It’s complicated.”
She smiles. “The best things usually are.”
I slide into a parking spot one block off Main and we all exit the truck. “Come on… I’m going to show you around town.”
I give them the grand tour of Whynot and even take them into Chesty’s for a beer, where Pap regales Caroline with stories about me growing up. It’s then time to part ways as Caroline and Chris have to catch their flight back to New York.
“We’ll be in touch to schedule the actual interview.” Caroline holds out her hand and we shake. “You’re the easiest subject I’ve covered in months. You remind people why these stories matter—it’s not the fantasy, it’s that you’re genuine.”
“I appreciate that.”
Derek and I watch their taillights disappear past the square and I let out a relieved breath. “That wasn’t so bad.”
Laughing, Derek shakes his head. “I want to hear you say that after you appear live on national television.”
“Fuck… I’m going to be a wreck, I imagine.”
“Nah,” he says with good nature. “Just be yourself and it will go perfectly.” Derek nods toward Millie’s. “I’m going to go get some work done. I’ve got a few pitches to look over.”
I think back to the first time I pitched to Derek and that seems like ages ago. “God help the wannabe authors who have you critiquing their work.”
“They’ll probably all want to be as good as you, but you, my friend, are one of those once-in-a-lifetime clients an agent might get.
” He punches my shoulder lightly, affectionately.
“If, through all of my preening and exclaiming over how great my commissions are going to be I forget to tell you, I appreciate the hell out of you.”
“Ditto,” I assure him. “Ditto.”
Derek turns toward Millie’s but then hesitates. “This went really well today, Sam. You came off genuine, charming, grounded. I think the actual interview is going to be epic and it will launch you higher than you ever thought possible.”
“I hope so. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
Derek glances back over at the bed-and-breakfast as if he’s trying to find the right words. When he looks back at me, he says, “Just… don’t let things distract you.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Things?”
“You know… things.”
I’m guessing Derek was paying more attention than it appeared when Caroline was asking about my love life in the truck. My hackles rise slightly. “I sort of think you really mean just Penny.”
He sighs. “Listen… you’re on fire right now, Sam. Publishers are circling. There’s talk of a national tour. You could be doing signings, late-night shows, podcasts. I just don’t want to see you shrink your world when it’s finally opening up.”
I force a calming breath, the threat to my relationship with Penny grating on my nerves.
“We’ve sort of had this discussion before.
In case you forgot, let me remind you… I’m not about to give up Penny.
I don’t know what we could be or how this is going to evolve, but I’m going to put a hundred and ten percent into figuring it out, and that might interfere with my other obligations. Be ready for it.”
Derek rubs his jaw. “I just don’t want to see you lose momentum.”
“I hear you,” I say quietly. “And I appreciate you’re doing your job. But you have to understand, my life is on a new trajectory and I’m not going to lose control of it. I will redirect it toward things that are as important to me as writing.”
An understanding smile ghosts his face. “Toward Penny.”
I meet his gaze. “Toward balance. She’s part of that, yeah. But it’s not just her. It’s me finally accepting who I am. It’s about me going after what I really want.”
He studies me for a beat, then exhales. “Fair enough.”
I sense his acquiescence, but I don’t want there to be any mistake. “The subject of Penny and where she fits into my life isn’t up for discussion. She’s going to be a priority for me, and I need you to accept that.”
Derek nods somberly, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I hear you loud and clear, and I really want you to be happy. Because a happy writer is a prolific writer, and a prolific writer makes his agent lots of money.”
I snort and give him a light punch on his shoulder. “You’re such a weasel.”
“And that will make you very rich,” he replies, his chin lifted proudly.