Page 18 of As It Was (Strawberry Springs #1)

CAIN

Strawberry Springs Neighborhood Watch

Kerry Winsor

I can’t believe it’s the last farmers market of the year next week! Where does the time go?

Comments:

Marjorie Brown : Think they’re selling melons?

Kerry Winsor : Marjorie, it’s October.

Atticus Thompson : Pumpkins are a melon.

Kerry Winsor : Did you mean pumpkins? @Marjorie Brown

Marjorie Brown : No.

Kerry Winsor : What is even happening here???

Marjorie Brown : Now who’s blowing a fuse?

Henrietta Brown : Honey, we talked about this.

Nashville was a fucking nightmare.

It had been years since I’d come here, and there was a reason why. I hated the noise. I hated how everyone was constantly busy, never slowing down.

Mollie was like that, and it bothered me way too much.

But I had to be here to meet with the lawyer who could represent me in keeping Eric. I didn’t know if I could since Waldren had been confirmed to be his biological dad, but I had to try.

Mollie had pulled me aside this morning and told me exactly where to park.

It was a garage with spots big enough for my truck.

I didn’t want her help, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

Nashville was stressful enough without the issue of parking.

I had to walk to the lawyer’s office, and the nerves only grew as I got closer.

The building was too fancy, and I felt out of place. But the receptionist was nice, and I didn’t have to wait for long.

“Cain Smith?” the lawyer, a man by the name of Morgan, called.

“That’s me.”

He gestured for me to follow him, and we walked to a small office with a simple desk and chairs. Behind him, he had pictures of his family all over the walls. I sat across from him, and my leg wouldn’t sit still.

“So, tell me about Eric.”

“H-have you read what I sent in?”

“I have. But I want to hear it from you.” He gave me a smile, and I wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing.

“It started over three years ago, when I got a call from the state,” I began. “Eric was in foster care after my sister died.”

“Right. You didn’t know her very well.”

“We were separated when we were young.”

“So, why did you take Eric?”

“I was a foster kid myself and I bounced around homes until I landed in Strawberry Springs. The whole time, I wondered if there was ever someone related to me who could step up. It never happened for me, but when I got the chance to do that for Eric ... I couldn’t say no.”

“And how did taking him in go?”

“Rough, at first. I’d never been around a kid, but I bought books and whatever he needed. We had to figure it out, but I did whatever I could.”

“How’s it going now?”

“Fantastic. But at this moment? I’m terrified. I love Eric. I planned to ...” I trailed off. “Well, it doesn’t matter what I planned now, does it? I just need to keep him.”

Morgan hummed. “He’s only been in school for a semester, but his grades are slightly below average.”

“He’s behind, but he’s working hard.”

“I know. I see here that he’s picking up reading faster than most. This is the sort of information we need.”

“For fighting this?”

He nodded. “If we can prove that Eric would be better off with you, then you might get away with only giving this man visitation rights, or depending on how bad his lawyer is, nothing at all.”

“He was in a suit when he came to the house to get Eric.”

“He visited you unprovoked?” At my nod, he added, “Interesting. If Eric is happy with you, and is willing to tell a judge that, then we have a case. But it’ll need to be airtight, especially if you get Judge Marlon.”

“Who’s that?”

“He’s strict. And he wants families to be together. Biological families.”

I let out a breath of air. “Even when they weren’t around for five years?”

“Yes. Even then. You’ll also need character letters from any friends you have. Ones that see how you are with Eric. ”

“Friends?”

“Friends, neighbors, anyone you know. The more the better.”

Fuck. That was the one thing I couldn’t do. “And they need to be positive?”

“They have to be. We want to build the best case we can. Will that be a problem?”

My entire body tensed. A problem? This was a death sentence.

But I had to fight this somehow. I couldn’t let this asshole have my nephew.

“No. No problem. I’ll figure it out.”

I thought about it the whole way home.

In order for people to be able to do anything, they needed to see me with Eric. And in order for them to see me with Eric, I had to leave the house and be nice to them.

Which was going to be terrible.

As I pulled into the driveway, Mollie’s shiny car sat innocently in the spot to the right. I sighed when I saw her, but knew I needed to start with her before anyone else.

If I hadn’t been such an ass to her, she could have written a letter.

When I walked in, she was on the couch, laptop in hand. She didn’t seem to be working. Instead, she was leaning forward and watching the TV intently.

“Is that reality TV?” I asked.

“Shh!” she snapped. “I’m watching my best friend and the man of her dreams.”

I blinked. There were two people on the TV. One had reddish-blonde hair falling over her shoulders in waves, while the other had dark hair and a permanent smirk.

“I didn’t think very highly of you before, but this is worse than I thought.”

She grabbed one of the throw pillows and hurled it at me. I caught it before it could hit my face.

“It’s all fake, you know,” I said.

“No, I happen to know this is real. That’s my friend, Wren. On TV .”

I turned. “Your friend renovates houses?”

“She’s a Nashville legend. She finally got one of the abandoned mansions and is renovating it on live TV.”

Where they were located had fallen victim to time. “She better not make it all gray.”

“I’m offended that you even think that.” She paused the show and grabbed her phone, scrolling for a minute. “Look at her work.”

I took it with a roll of my eyes. I was more than likely going to see the typical beige or gray remodel with no character.

Instead, I saw old homes tastefully decorated. They had different color schemes, and all kept some of the original character of the home.

“And this is her show?”

“Yep.” She pressed play and I turned, arms crossed. Wren was talking to the camera about her plans while the man next to her watched her intently. The scene changed, and he was knocking out a wall. “He’s so hot.”

“That man is a tool.”

“ You’re a tool,” she replied. “Besides, Wren has a huge crush on him.”

“He’s a TV personality.”

“So?” She rolled her eyes. “Sit down if you’re gonna watch. And shut your mouth. ”

I was tempted to walk away, but I used to live near that mansion. I’d explored it myself when I loved breaking rules. Slowly, I sat next to her and leaned back.

The place had been vandalized even when I had been there, but Wren talked about how much she wanted to make sure the community still loved it, and how she wanted to commission art on one of the garden walls by local artists.

This was obviously only the beginning of the show, but I could see where it was going. The camera kept panning to Wren and Jude while they talked, getting shots of them glancing at each other while they worked. They were probably going to get together.

I didn’t care much for the romance. But I did care to see the mansion get restored to its former glory.

When the episode ended, Mollie nudged me with her leg. “So ...”

“So what?”

“You watched the whole thing.”

“It was . . . fine.”

“Fine? It’s gonna be a hit. I hope she gets a hundred seasons and gets to have just as many kids with Jude.”

“A hundred kids?” I asked.

“Hey, if my best friend gets a shot with the man she’s had eyes for since she was a teen, then yes. She can have as many kids as she wants.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

She laughed. “I know. How did Nashville go?”

“It was as terrible as usual.”

“And the meeting with the lawyer?”

My stomach churned as my problems came rushing back. “I ... know what I need to do.”

“Care to share?”

“Not exactly. ”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s really one step forward and two steps back with you, isn’t it?”

“There are no steps happening anywhere,” I said as I walked off.

“You kinda like me, I can see it!” she called.

I rolled my eyes, determined not to tell her that she was exactly right.

But I didn’t need to think about that. I needed help, and I only trusted one person when I needed that.

“All right, we’re starting on Operation Get Cain Friends.” Jackie’s smile was wide.

“We’re not calling it that,” I said. “And they won’t be friends.”

“Yes, they will be. Once you get everyone in Strawberry Springs to see what I do, you’ll have lots of friends. I was waiting for you to ask me for this.”

The idea sounded terrible.

It was a chilly morning, but it would warm up by the middle of the day. Strawberry Springs was hosting its last farmers market of the year. Bennie used to be at every single one. I’d gone to a few, but they’d never gone well for me.

The eggs and milk sold without it, so I figured I’d never have to see the square covered in tents again.

“Now, while you’re being a social butterfly, don’t let me forget to get one of those rocking chairs from Hugh. I want it on my balcony.”

I nodded along while I watched people—most of whom I knew—walk around and shop.

Eric was over at the playground nestled near the old library. Jackie told me he would be fine, and true to her word, he was already playing with Tommy and a few other kids who looked to be around the same age.

“Come on,” she said. “The Nordic baker from the town over came today. I need to stock up.”

Jackie looped her arm through mine and dragged me into the chaos. She bought bread. Then cake for Eric. Then talked to a bunch of people she knew. For a small town, it was so busy .

I stayed silent, even when Jackie tried to pull me into the conversations she easily held with the vendors. She was so friendly that talking came easy to her.

I wasn’t as lucky.

“You’ll have to open up if you want this,” she said as we did one more lap around the square.