Page 22 of Checking Mr. Wrong (Love in Maple Falls #3)

ASHER

Everywhere I look there are signs of autumnal glory, from stalks of corn bunched together on porches, to carved pumpkins on sidewalks.

My neighborhood is looking ready for the upcoming holidays.

There’s a soft wind today, and the crisp crunch of leaves underfoot syncs with the steady hum of my mom’s voice coming through my earbuds.

“You’re on a roll, kiddo,” Mom says, the pride in her voice unmistakable. “Back-to-back wins, and not just barely scraping by, no sir! Those were commanding performances.”

“Yeah, we’re clicking as a team,” I say, nudging a stray leaf with my toe. “Which is good, because we’re on the road for some away games next week. We don’t want to show up as a team to those looking like we’re unhinged.”

“No,” she says with a chuckle, “you don’t. Hey, before I forget, your dad sends his love. He would be here but he’s prepping for distribution ahead of the holidays.”

I have a small wave of nostalgia, knowing if I wasn’t here I’d be there helping in my free time. This is the time of year when I’d be double-checking the quality of everything going out, and of course, always offering my skills in the art of taste testing .

“But, what we want to know is how are you doing?” she asks, her tone softening. “Is everything all right with you, Asher?”

I know by asking this question, she means how is my OCD. I glance at a cluster of pumpkins arranged on a neighbor’s stoop, their goofy grins oddly comforting. “I’m fine,” I reply casually. “It’s under control.”

Mom doesn’t buy it, not for a second. “Goodness, Asher,” she says, sighing into the phone. “Whenever you brush things off like that, I can’t help but think there might be a girl involved.”

Except she was usually wrong when she guessed that before. I laugh, the sound echoing down the quiet street. “This time, you might be right.”

There’s a beat of silence, then she pounces. “What?” she practically shrieks. “There’s a girl? Who is she?”

“Her name’s Mabel,” I admit, my voice warming just at the mention of her name.

I take a few minutes to fill my mother in on all things Mabel McCluskey—which surprisingly takes longer than one would think.

She’s got quite the resume, in life and professionally, but it was when I brushed over her old job as a sports reporter that my mother let out a tiny yelp.

“Wait, that’s her? Mabel’s the woman who tossed that bucket of water on that jerk’s head?” My mother isn’t one to revel in others’ misery, but something tells me she did for this. “Ohhh, I can’t wait to meet her, Asher. Wait—will I meet her? Is it serious?”

How do I answer? I’ve had my lips on hers and it was lovely, thanks for asking? Or I could try: We seem to be getting along just fine . But it all sounds trite and?—

“Asher. Before you start overthinking it, I’m just excited.” Mom’s tone is gentle, because she knows. “Don’t let my curiosity take away the fun you’re having. In fact, I don’t want to hear any more about her.”

“Reverse psychology, huh? Respect that, Ma.”

“So tell me more about Maple Falls life. Besides hockey, do you have anything fun coming up soon? ”

“There is a bachelor auction I was talked into doing.”

“But you just said there’s a girl!”

“And you said we wouldn’t talk about it.”

“I know, but as a woman, I have to tell you, if I liked a guy and he ended up on stage at an auction, I’d have some feelings about that.”

“I’m sure you would, but I doubt Mabel will,” I say. “She’s made from a different cloth.”

“Unsure how that applies here, but go on,” Mom says, laughing at me over the line.

“Not much to say except I’m in it and it’s for charity.”

“Lead with that next time,“ Mom snaps back teasingly. “Now that I know it’s for charity, I’ll let you do it.”

“Like you could stop me,” I fire back, laughing. This is life with my mom. Man, I miss her. We tease each other for a few more minutes before promising to check in over the weekend, and then I disconnect the call.

“Asher!” The sound of Carson’s voice turns my head in his direction. I spot him across the street, jogging my way, hair wet and matted as he slows down and checks his heart rate.

“Didn’t know you were out for a run,” I say, taking in the state of him. “Looks like you’ve been running from something. You good?”

“I’m great, just needed to get some of the extra energy out of my system so I could sleep tonight.” Carson chuckles. “I didn’t interrupt your call, did I?”

“Just my mom,” I say, shaking my head, “who texted last night to tell me she was shipping a case of maple butter to us this week. She’s included some extra jars for Bailey to try.”

Carson’s cheeks flush red. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

“Not a problem,” I say as I wave a hand in the air. I’ve noticed how my roommate has looked at my PAL, and I’m here to help him out if I can. Someday, I may need him to return the favor. Ice Breakers stick together.

We walk in silence for a few steps, the crunch of leaves filling the space between us. Carson kicks a stray acorn, sending it skittering into the gutter. “This town is pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“The way everyone here comes together,” he says. “I have to admit when I first heard about saving Maple Falls, I didn’t take it seriously. Then I thought about it.”

I stop in my tracks and think about what he’s saying. “I guess if they lose the land, we’d end up losing our arena, huh?”

“Exactly.” He chuckles, stopping beside me. “I think this town is starting to lure me in. Every time I hear about a charity event of any kind, I feel like I should help or donate or something.”

“You and me both,” I say as we continue on our way.

“So,” Carson begins, “hope you don’t mind me asking or being nosy, but the past week you’ve seemed super…chilled.”

“Okay. Is that bad?”

“No!” He laughs. “It’s not, but it’s noticeable to me. I mean, I see you at home and at work, right? So, what’s going on?”

I glance over at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, his tone casual, almost too casual. “You just seem like you’re buzzing with something. Not in a bad way, though. More like you’ve got something—or a certain someone—on your mind.”

I smirk, shaking my head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Carson grins, his gaze focused ahead.

“I mean, whatever it is, it’s probably none of my business.

Especially if it has to do with a journalist who grew up here.

But, all I can say is don’t let it pass you by.

Whatever’s got you grinning like an idiot lately? Probably worth paying attention to.”

I bark a laugh, rolling my eyes. “Grinning like an idiot? Really?”

Carson throws up his hands. “Hey, I call it like I see it.”

We slow as we approach our house. Carson jogs up the steps, calling over his shoulder, “I’m going to make some dinner, so don’t stay out here thinking too hard about what I said for too long.”

I stay on the sidewalk, watching him disappear inside. First my mom calls out my overthinking, and then Carson. I feel seen as the streetlights flicker on, casting long shadows across the pavement.

Carson’s words echo in my head. Don’t let it pass you by . He doesn’t know how right he is.

I pull my phone from my pocket and scroll until I find her name.

It rings twice before she answers, her voice soft and curious. “Hello?”

“Mabel,” I say, the cool autumn air sharpening my focus. “Are you busy? I’d like to ask you something really quick…”