Chapter 3 #2
“And as for your stay here…” She leaned closer, lowering her voice.
“Your landlord—Mr. Stross? Used to be one of my students a million years ago. I told him we needed a place for you for a week or so until the board decides, and he said he wouldn’t dream of charging a dime until they vote. Called it ‘an investment in the fair.’”
“Oh,” I said, a little stunned. “That’s… shockingly generous.”
“That’s Willowbrook,” she said, shrugging.
“The thing is,” she went on, “the fair isn’t just funnel cake and pie contests.
It funds half the town’s community programs—the meals that reach seniors too proud to admit they're starving, the tutoring that's the only shot some kids have at college, every youth league that keeps teenagers off the streets.
" She leaned forward, eyes locked on mine. "And the foster care outreach fund."
The words slammed into me like a physical blow. My fingers froze mid-motion, the pen cap suddenly slick with sweat. My throat closed as memories I'd buried under designer labels clawed their way up.
Lynn’s gaze was steady. “If we don’t make eighty thousand this year, we’ll have to start cutting. And we both know what happens when programs like that disappear. Kids and families fall through the cracks.”
I leaned back, letting her words settle, then gave a confident smile. “Eighty thousand? It’s definitely a stretch, but I thrive on a challenge. With the right vision and hard work, I will make it happen.”
Lynn studied me for a moment, then returned my smile like she’d been waiting to hear exactly that.
“I’ve been sketching out some concepts,” I continued, opening my portfolio onto the table.
She leaned forward, then frowned playfully. “Jason, dear, can you grab my glasses from my desk? I swear, I leave those things everywhere.”
Jason, the tall boy sitting near Kayla, pushed back his chair and crossed the room with easy confidence. A moment later, he returned, handing her the glasses with a casual smile. “Here you go, Mrs. Smith.”
“Thanks, Jason,” Lynn said, slipping them on and leaning in toward me. “Such a good kid, that Jason.”
I glanced over just in time to catch Jason tossing a wink at Kayla before ruffling her hair. She swatted him away with a grin, and he dropped back into his seat, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
Lynn refocused on the sketches I’d laid out. Her eyes lit almost immediately. “Well,” she murmured, the corner of her mouth curving. “That’s certainly… different.”
I gave her a steady look. “Different is the point. If you want people back, you have to give them a reason.”
She tapped one sketch lightly, thoughtfully, then sat back.
“You’ll have to convince the board. And they’re not as easy to win over as I am,” Lynn said, her brow furrowing slightly.
I nodded, already anticipating the challenge. “What’s their deal? Are they really so stuck in the past?”
Lynn sighed. “They tend to resist anything that feels too radical. Just last year, they shot down a proposal to open a coffee shop downtown because it didn’t match the ‘classic charm’ of the town. They want everything to look the same as it did fifty years ago.”
“Well, I’m not here to blow up the fair,” I replied confidently. “I get it—change can be scary. But if we can show them how blending the old with the new can bring in more families and funding, I know they'll see the potential.”
Lynn raised an eyebrow, impressed. “You really think you can convince them?”
“Absolutely,” I said, determination sparking in my eyes. “I’m not easily intimidated, and this town deserves a fair that thrives. We'll make them see why this is important, and I promise to respect the traditions that make Willowbrook special.”
For the next half hour, Lynn and I bent over the table, talking through details.
Attendance numbers, vendor layouts, sponsorship possibilities.
She laid out the realities, and I matched them with ideas bold enough to light up even the most skeptical crowd.
By the time we pushed the sketches aside, the clock had leapt forward without me noticing.
Lynn pulled a notepad from her clipboard, scribbled a number, and slid the page across to me. “This is my number. Call if you need anything tonight. And tomorrow morning, the board meets at the community center—big brick building across from the Presbyterian Church. You can’t miss it.”
“Got it,” I said, tucking the note into my briefcase. “Thank you.”
“You’ll do fine.” Her smile was warm, the kind of reassurance you don’t realize you need until someone offers it.
As I gathered my boards and zipped my bag, footsteps padded up behind me.
“Lily!” Kayla bounced forward, Jason trailing behind her with an easy stride, his notebook tucked under one arm. She gestured dramatically between us. “This is Jason Riley. And Jason, this is Lily—the coolest person I’ve ever met.”
Jason raised a brow at her theatrics, then looked at me with a crooked smile. “Hey,” he said.
Kayla continued, elbowing him lightly. “She’s redesigning the entire fair. It’s going to be amazing. And she worked on Broadway!”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound escaping before I could rein it in. “Totally nice to meet you, Jason.”
“Same,” he said, slipping an arm around Kayla’s shoulders.
I leaned in a little, lowering my voice like I was letting them in on a secret. “So, if you two are up for it, I could use a couple of the coolest young people in town to help me pull off something major. Think MTV meets Willowbrook.”
Kayla’s eyes went wide, and Jason’s mouth twitched like he wasn’t sure if I was serious.
“Really,” I added, “if you’re interested, I’ll reach out once I find a workspace.”
“We’re in!” Kayla said immediately, Jason nodding beside her.
“Bye, Mrs. Smith! Bye, Lily!” she called as she tugged him toward the door, her grin bright enough to light the hallway.
Jason lifted a hand in a shy wave before following her out.
Lynn chuckled as she gathered her papers. “Those two are good kids. And for what it’s worth…” She gave me a pointed, knowing look only an older woman could pull off. “You’re going to turn some heads in this town.”
Heat flared in my cheeks as that morning at the gas station flashed through my mind—broad shoulders, the low rasp of his voice, those eyes cutting straight through me. I blinked it away quickly.
“I’m just here to work,” I said lightly, sliding my sketches back into my briefcase.
“Uh-huh.” Lynn smirked, unconvinced. “Well, work or not, looks like you’ve already got fans.”
I tried for a casual smile. “Good. I’ll need them.”