Page 6 of As It Was (Strawberry Springs #1)

MOLLIE

Strawberry Springs Neighborhood Watch

Kerry Winsor

First day down! We had a very fun time. Also @Jackie Anne , you should have told me Eric was in Tommy’s class!

Comments:

Jackie Anne : Not my thing to tell.

Kerry Winsor : I had to make awkward conversation with Cain. Warn a girl!

Atticus Thompson : Ah, I need to ask him for eggs. Simone is going through a phase where she eats three a day.

Kerry Winsor : Scrambled or over easy?

Atticus Thompson : Hard-boiled.

Kerry Winsor : WHY?

“You have a house ?” Wren’s green eyes were wide.

Her strawberry-blonde hair was in a braid, and we were getting coffee in a quiet corner of town.

I’d been shocked when she called me as I was walking out of the state building to get the house in my name.

We’d hardly been able to talk in the last few weeks while she worked on her mystery project.

“Yep. An old farmhouse. It’s probably abandoned.”

Wren’s jaw kept falling open. “Are you serious ?”

“I’m serious.”

“This is the greatest day of my life!” she nearly yelled. “I mean, your life. When you said you wanted a house that we could work on together, I thought it was a pipe dream. But you made it happen!”

“It might still be a pipe dream,” I replied. “My parents and Trevor want me to sell it to developers.”

I’d never seen a smile fall so quickly off someone’s face. “Where is it again?”

“Strawberry Springs. It’s three hours east of here and about an hour north of Knoxville, near the Kentucky border.”

“What developer is going out there?” she asked. “And why would you sell beautiful farmland?”

“For money.”

She pulled out her phone, presumably to bring up a map. “We’re talking history .”

“Right, but apparently, it’s ‘up-and-coming,’” I said. “It doesn’t feel like an area that would appreciate that.”

“Yeah, no .” Wren shook her head. “There’s nothing there. I’m sure some would love the quiet life, but the town isn’t made for a subdivision.”

She would know. She loved researching neighborhoods around Nashville.

She bought the run-down, older houses no one wanted, often to keep them from getting demolished, and carefully remodeled and sold them.

She was a local legend. People wanted her to buy a house in their neighborhood because it meant she would take care of what made Nashville special .

I knew she wouldn’t like the idea of demolishing farmland for houses on principle. Still, hearing it made me feel better.

“How long would it have been abandoned?” she asked.

“Ten years, give or take. The letter he left said he had employees, but after this long, there’s no way they would have stayed.”

“If it’s not in too bad of shape, it could be redone and sold.” Her eyes met mine. “But judging by the look on your face, you don’t like that idea.”

“I thought it was gone,” I said. “And now it’s in my name. Shouldn’t I do something with it? Papa Bennie was a cornerstone of Strawberry Springs. I could carry on his legacy.”

“Maybe, but you’d have to see how the farm looks and probably do a lot of learning to get it there. It’s not impossible, but you’d have to completely give up your life here. At least temporarily.”

“And Trevor wouldn’t like it.”

She rolled her eyes. “If he really wants to marry you, then he should support whatever makes you happy.”

He should. I wanted him to.

But I didn’t know if he would.

There was an uncomfortable feeling simmering under my skin. Like if I turned stones over in my relationship, I would find cans of worms I wished I’d left alone.

“And if he doesn’t?”

She smiled, her face a picture of serene calm, but then she leaned in and spoke. “Then we finally use our spot we picked out in high school to bury his body.”

“Really, Wren? Murder?”

“I only want people surrounding you who invest in your happiness. The jury’s been out for so long on Trevor that I’m pretty sure they escaped out the window.”

I toyed with the sleeve of my floral shirt. I hadn’t told anyone, not even Wren, some of the things Trevor had asked of me, because I knew how they’d react. But she must have picked up on something from the sidelines.

Shaking my head, I said, “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

“Well, just let me know if he doesn’t. I’m free until tomorrow.”

“And what’s happening tomorrow? This big project you’ve told me nothing about?”

Her smile grew. “That’s actually why I asked you out for coffee. I finally can talk about it.”

“What? Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My best friend also had incredible news.” She rolled her eyes again. “I can be happy about multiple things.”

“Tell me everything,” I said. “Are you renovating one of the old mansions or something?”

“Kinda. I was worried about capital, so I asked around to see if any investors wanted in. And one did.”

“Really? You hate working with investors.”

“I do, but if I want to up my game, I need to try. And I found a good one.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s the Home Repair TV Channel.”

“ What? ” I gasped. “Like they’re investing, or like ... more?”

“More. It’s a TV show alongside Jude Putman.”

I slammed my hand on the table. “Your dream man?”

She nodded. “I’ve loved him ever since I saw him knocking out a wall on a rebuild. He’s coming here, and we’re filming starting tomorrow.”

I squealed, ignoring the glares from onlookers, and climbed out of my seat to hug her. “I’m so happy for you!”

“It’s a dream come true!” she said. “But it does mean I’ll be busy pretty much nonstop while filming.”

“Who cares? You’re gonna be on TV!”

“They want us to have good chemistry. So, it’s a mix of home reno and reality TV. It’s called Renovating with Love . We’re basically only going to see each other. And the producers said we can ... do whatever we want.”

“So, that means you’ll do whoever you want. You’re gonna climb him like a tree, aren’t you?”

“Hell yes,” she said.

I laughed and pulled her in for one last hug.

“So, if you do decide to renovate that old farmhouse, can you give me until spring?”

Spring was so far away. Plus, I wanted to do it how Papa Bennie had. He would plant in the fall and let them gather energy over winter.

But I was pretty sure it would take that long to convince Trevor to even go for it.

“Of course,” I said. “You do what you need to. And I’ll try to convince Trevor not to sell.”

“I can help with that. Let me write up a market report. That man loves reports.”

She pulled out her laptop and got to work while I returned to my side of the booth. I was so happy for her, and even though I’d miss her, I wanted her to get everything she wanted.

I only hoped I could have the same.

Instead of doing my weekend routine the next morning, which consisted of making coffee for Trevor and me before he would point out what needed to be cleaned, I was pacing around in front of our bedroom door.

I held all the research Wren had done on the area, sipping on coffee I’d made for myself while working out exactly how to get him to see that selling the farmland wasn’t the best idea.

Trevor knocked on the wall, his sign that he was up and ready for coffee. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

“That’s not what I asked for,” he said, eyeing the papers in my hand.

“We need to talk about something.”

“And you couldn’t bring coffee?”

I sighed. “If I make it for you, will you be in a better mood?”

“I would.”

I pursed my lips, but turned to go to the kitchen. I made him a cup of coffee and then returned with it a few minutes later.

“Here,” I said.

He took a slow sip. “Okay, go ahead.”

“I don’t want to sell the farm.”

He didn’t bother looking up at me. “Of course you don’t.”

“I’m just saying that I don’t think that area is appropriate for a subdivision.” I handed him the papers. “And neither does Wren.”

He groaned and took them. “You told her of all people?”

My shoulders tensed. What was his deal with her? He always made little comments, either suggesting she didn’t know enough about things to have an opinion, or that she was plain wrong. “She works in real estate too.”

“She’s anti-change. And biased.”

“You’re gonna say that before you even look at the research?”

“Let me guess, she told you it wasn’t suitable because it’s in the middle of nowhere and no one would want to move there.”

“It’s not near a neighboring big city,” I reminded.

“There’s a whole faction of people who work from home. We can build them farmhouses on an acre each and they’ll move in droves. My dad did the research. ”

“And so did Wren,” I replied. “Look at how many houses have been built there in the last few years. Two. And they took forever to sell. It’s a small town, Trevor. Bulldozing farmland with a history to it and building a hundred houses isn’t the way to do it.”

“You’re sentimental.”

“And you’re not listening to me.” I let my desperation seep into my voice. I needed him to listen this time. Just this once.

“If you keep it, it’ll just sit there forever.”

“It’s still good land. Maybe I could run it like Bennie used to and stay here.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t even focus in a meeting, Mollie.”

“Because I’m thinking about things like this.”

“There’s nothing to think about. Sell it. Bulldoze it. Move on .”

“But that’s not what I want to do.” My voice climbed higher in pitch. I didn’t fight him on anything . Why couldn’t he let me have this? Just one compromise so I could remember that he cared about me.

“I don’t care about what you want . Obviously, you can’t see sense on this. I care about getting the money so we can buy our dream home.”

His response hit me like a ton of bricks. “I never called it that.”

“You don’t know what your dream is.”

“Actually, I do. And it’s Papa Bennie’s home.”

His eyes cut to me, and he slowly stood. “Excuse me?”

“Trevor, the house was beautiful . The land was nearly endless. He made a living off of it for over fifty years. It has space, character, and?—”

“Who cares? It’s not in the place we want to be. You can’t work in marketing and have a farm. ”

“What if I could?”