Chapter 11
KAI
I’ve always been the kind of person to jump right out of bed, excited to face the day. Mom says I’m "full of beans"…whatever that means.
I stare out my back window, the rich scent of brewing coffee filling my mind with both energy and possibilities. What is Leah like on a normal morning? When we were in New York, we went to a fantastic restaurant, then spent time sightseeing. Certainly not an average twenty-four hours.
Well, Leah loves traveling. Maybe checking out a new restaurant every day is what, to use another one of my mother’s pet phrases, floats her boat.
I haven't been this excited in a long time.
It's funny: just a few days ago, this was my dream house.
Now that I'm hoping Leah will move in as soon as possible, I'm eager to make any changes she wants.
A hot tub. A pool. Greenhouse. An extension on the back with tons of skylights if she needs a yoga room. Does she do yoga?
Bottom line, I want Leah to have a place that's a lot more comfortable than a motor home. Even though I admire her courage and tenacity, living in such a place.
I fill a large lime green mug with coffee, then take it out to the back yard to pace for a bit.
There’s been some talk recently about the health benefits of getting morning sunlight in your eyes, but I’ve been doing it for years.
Get up and go outside, even if it’s just for five minutes.
Okay, in the dead of winter it’s barely two. Still counts.
My steps today are erratic. I miss Leah. I'm already addicted to her. Every detail. Every flutter of her eyelashes, every curve of her perfect pink lips. The way she looks at me, pausing before she makes a little joke, as if wondering how I'll take it.
I'm not at all offended that she wanted some time alone – I've been told I have a “big energy” that might take some getting used to. The last thing I want to do is overwhelm the poor girl, or turn her off.
It was never my intention to try to impress her, yet she seemed so dazzled when we dropped by Palmerston Eals’ studio so I could choose a few more of his paintings. That’s what I’d love to use my wealth and connections for: dazzling Leah and making her happy.
My phone beeps, and I nearly spill my coffee while yanking it out of my jeans pocket. Leah?
No, it's just Kane, reminding me that we need to figure out a few more ways to give money back to the town this year.
It’s an interesting idea that my brothers and I are taking seriously, while trying to maintain our usual casual approach.
We used to fund things around town totally anonymously.
The whole family has done that for decades.
Kept our charitable contributions on the down low. These days, it’s an open secret.
Take the school expansion, for instance. We’re not putting our logo on anything, that would be tacky, but if anyone asks, it’s okay for them to know that Wolfe Security is footing the bill.
Kane has been after us to keep brainstorming ideas of how to boost the area, both for the locals and the summer influx of tourists passing through.
I text him that I'm still thinking about it, then can't resist sending Leah a note.
Good morning. I know it's a bit early, but may I take you out for brunch?
It will be much mellower than yesterday's. No skyline views.
By the time I shower and dress, she's responded.
Leah: Sure. Just getting ready now. Want to come meet me at my "house"?
Be there in 20. Can't wait to see you, baby.
I drive downtown and park on Main Street, waving to everyone I know…plus people who look kind of familiar, and seem to know me.
Part of my mind is still turning around Kane's question about what we should be improving around the town.
Then I notice Leah's RV is parked in one of the very few spots a vehicle like that would fit, unless she parked right on the main street, where there’s no power.
She would never have known this spot was here if I hadn't arranged it.
She flings open the door as soon as I tap on it. My arms spread wide, and she steps into the hug while I swing her down the steps.
“So: brunch options," I murmur into her ear. "The coffee shop, the diner, or drive to Cedarvale for a different coffee shop?"
"Close is good. I'm not fussy."
After she locks her front door, I playfully elbow her. "Not fussy is how you wound up with a guy like me."
We laugh together while walking down the street to Corina's Coffee. I wait until we have mugs and food in front of us to pull out my phone and start taking notes. "As an expert in motorhome life, can you please tell me what your requirements are for a good campground?"
She tips her head and stares at me curiously, then takes a sip of coffee. "Where is this coming from?"
"I’m doing some research. Just play along and help me get started."
"Okay," she shrugs. Then she stares into her mug, listing a bunch of technical stuff like power, water hookups, sewage pump out, and gas lines.
Many campgrounds have large communal barbecues.
Some have commercial laundry facilities, too.
The best ones, she says, are sheltered a bit from wind and the noise of major highways.
“The nice ones are super expensive, though," she sighs. "And a lot of people who are camping are on a tight budget, trying to pinch every penny."
"We use the honor system a lot around here." My fingers tap restlessly against the table while I think. "What if there were a fantastic RV park that cost…maybe forty bucks a night per vehicle…but instead of paying the park, you had to spend that amount on food and supplies in town?"
"Wow." Leah blinks in surprise. "That would be amazing."
"Of course, it only works if the park is a very short walk from the downtown area." I open my map app and zoom in. "What do you consider a reasonable walk from your vehicle to the nearest coffee shop, and a department store? Five minutes? Ten?"
Leah takes a bite of her scrambled egg and spinach sandwich and swallows, still looking at me strangely. "Personally, I think ten minutes is a nice walk, but you might have some seniors. Or people with little kids."
“Good point." I measure a few distances. "Okay, so under a five-minute walk."
"Of course,” Leah adds, “if this was a truly deluxe campground, you could have bicycles for rent there. With little pulling trailers for the kids, or groceries. You could have it a bit farther away then."
"Great idea! That might really encourage people to spend money in town.
So the bike rentals would be free as well.
We'll just put them…in a shed next to the restroom and shower facilities at the park.
" I catch Leah’s eye. "I'm sure the shower in your RV is fine, but having a much larger shower stall with better water pressure would be a treat, right? "
"Of course.” Her ankle brushes against mine under the table. "But you can't be serious about this. Or are you?"
I flash her a grin and set the phone on the table, spinning it to her and pointing.
“This spot right here. It's too rocky to dig out a basement, so nobody’s ever wanted to build houses on it.
And it's kind of invisible from the main street, so stores don’t want it either.
It's been a vacant lot for as long as I can remember. "
Leah peers at my phone. "Yeah, that's like a four- or five-minute walk from downtown. That row of trees would block the wind. And you could probably fit…maybe twenty RVs…and build all of the facilities right here by the road." She points.
Then her beautiful blue eyes lift to mine. "I still can't tell if you're joking."
"I'm not. It's a great idea, I think."
My hand darts out to take hers. "There’s a group of guys who maintain the hiking trails.
They always say that bird watchers are the perfect tourists.
Quiet, and respectful of the forest. We’ll mention the park to various birding groups.
” I point to the screen again. “Maple Trail has a parking lot that people could walk to, or ride bikes from the park.”
“Wow.” Leah shakes her head. “It’s a great idea. I mean, it might take several years to purchase the land, get all the permits from the local council. Maybe you could start building within a decade.”
While she takes another bite of her breakfast, I draft a text, then show it to her before hitting send.
You know the old McMurphy property that’s been sitting empty for ages?
Let’s turn it into an RV park for tourists, to bring more money to the downtown shops.
I have a whole plan. For now, purchase the land, and get in touch with that construction team the council loves.
We can have the whole thing up and running by spring.
Leah laughs, sipping her coffee and grinning like I’ve just told the funniest joke ever. I simply eat my sausage scramble and calmly wait a few minutes until my phone beeps.
I hand it to her. “Well? What does it say?” Her eyes grow huge as she reads from the screen.
Kane: Dude, that’s an amazing idea! I’ve already texted the McMurphy family and the council. We’ll own the land by the end of the week and can start digging well before winter.
Leah hands me back my phone, watching me type my reply.
Thanks. This should be a quick project. I have an expert on RV life with me who can help with the plan and everything.
Kane: Is she cute?
Kane: I mean, I assume it’s the girl you took to New York.
Details later. Thanks again.
Leah’s eyes are glazed over as she stares into her coffee. “Just like that?” she whispers. “That’s…bonkers.”
“Yeah, I know.” I thread my fingers through hers again. “I’m still not really used to it either. But when something is a good idea, we charge ahead. If we haven’t thought of something, the town council will holler. If not, away we go.”
I run my ankle up and down her calf under the table. “We have assistants to deal with the lawyers and property taxes and all that other boring crap. It leaves my brothers and I free to be the ideas people.”
It’s difficult to read her expression, since her eyes keep shifting around. “I’m sorry, baby. Did I do something wrong?”
“No, that’s not it. I think I’m just…truly surprised, I guess.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s weird. I totally get that it’s weird.
” Lifting her hand, I kiss her fingers. With a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure nobody is looking, I turn her hand gently and drag my lips along her inner wrist. “I know I’m a handful,” I murmur.
“But it’s fun to be one of the town’s fairy godmothers, right? ”
Although Leah’s chin tips up and down, her eyes still don’t seem completely focused. It’s as if her mind is churning. On what, I don’t know.
“Hey, want to come check out my house? It might help you get to know me better. And prove that hopefully I’m the right kind of weird.”
She nods, and finally a spark ignites in her eyes again. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”