Page 12 of Chasing the Sun

Not that we saw her often enough to know for sure.

“Where are Mom and Dad?” I asked, looking around and taking a sip of my juice box.

I could see Kit fighting a smile. “Uh ... Magic Mike was having a wardrobe malfunction.”

The juice shot out of my mouth, landing in a splatter at her feet.

Kit’s chestnut waves bounced as she chuckled. “Relax. Different Mike. This one isactuallya magician. Mom was convinced she could fix his cape in time for his performance, so ... we made do.” Her chin jutted toward the back.

I looked across the yard to see my brother’s best friend running across the lawn with a squealing child in a fireman’s carry as the rest of the kids chased him. “Is that why Brody is fighting for his lifeover there?”

Her hands spread wide with a shrug, but her eyes moved over him and paused.

We watched with humor as he lost his battle with the tiny terrors and they tackled him to the ground. Brody worked for the local police department, so it was nice to see him having a little fun.

“Where is Hayes?” I asked, looking around for my moody oldest sibling.

Kit sighed and leaned against the deck railing. “You know how it goes with Hayes. He texted, saying he got a flat tire on the way over. He’ll be here soon.”

I shook my head. Poor Hayes. He literally had the worst luck of anyone I had ever met. We didn’tactuallybelieve he’d been cursed by the Lady, but sometimes it was hard to ignore that his luck was absolute shit.

“I’m going to go rescue Brody before the feral children stage a coup.” Kit grinned and bounded down the stairs.

Sitting alone at a table on the side of the yard was old man Stafford. My heart rolled for him and the dilapidated farm that once held so many of my childhood memories. With a smile, I walked toward him.

The metal of the chair was cold against my palm. “This seat taken?”

He looked up, his blue eyes smiling. “Not for a pretty girl like you.”

I curtsied and plunked down into the chair, my legs stretched in front of me and crossed at the ankles. “So what do you know, old man?”

He chuckled, a deep and friendly sound. “I know it’s been too long since I’ve seen you around here, Miss Elodie Darling.”

I scrunched my nose. “I know. Work had me so busy.”

He shook his head. “No work is more important thanfamily and friends.” He tapped the side of his nose. “That I do know.”

His words landed somewhere deep in the part of me I didn’t like to poke at too much. Because once upon a time, I had known that, but then I got too busy proving I was important, too busy proving I could keep up.

And now? Now I was back home, unemployed, drinking a juice box at a Vegas-themed birthday party for a kindergartner.

Deep down I knew Stan was right, and I wasn’t sure when work had eclipsed how much I loved being home, but it had happened all the same. In that moment everything felt aimless, like I didn’t know what I was going to do. It was much easier to shift my attention to the kind old man who was sipping pink lemonade out of a plastic martini glass.

“I drove past the farm today.” I leaned forward, planting my chin on my hands with an exaggerated pout.

Mr. Stafford’s eyes grew wistful, the spark dimming as he took another sip. “It’s a sad thing when time passes and life changes on you.”

I sat back in my chair. “I remember coming to the farm as a kid. It was the heart of Star Harbor—the pumpkin patch, the haunted forest walk. Mrs. Stafford’s cider doughnuts were legendary.”

At the mention of his late wife, Mr. Stafford perked up and smiled. “They were tasty.”

“Thebest,” I agreed. I closed my eyes and could almost feel the cinnamon-sugary outside on my tongue as I bit down on the pillowy fried doughnut.

Stan sighed. “Over the years, people stopped coming. Flashier tourist destinations popped up in nearby towns and drew people away. Now it seems the only time someonecomes around is when they’re trying to get a glimpse of the Lady walking the dunes.”

My brain was spinning.How could anyone just let the coolest place in town fall apart and be forgotten?

Frankly, it kind of pissed me off. Stan looked so sad. There had to be something I could do for him.