Page 29 of Checking Mr. Wrong (Love in Maple Falls #3)

MABEL

I sit on the worn floral couch in my mom’s living room, a mug of too-sweet tea balanced precariously on my knee.

My head has a tiny knock, the sign of the headache to come if I don’t stop staring at documents and reading our research on all the digital devices.

There is only so much blue light your eyes can take.

Fiona paces the room, her phone pressed to her ear as she listens to someone on the other end from one of the U.

S. Fish and Wildlife’s regional offices.

Neesha, of course , brought comfort cupcakes, and she sits cross-legged on the rug, clutching Willa’s kids’ book like it’s a golden ticket.

Which, in a way, we’ve come to realize it is.

“Uh-huh. Yes. Yes. Yes.” Fiona’s eyes meet mine, which she rolls as she continues. “Of course. No, no, I understand. We can have this written up and the forms filled out within a few hours.”

Fiona throws her fist up and pumps the air as Neesha and I both freeze, my heart beginning to race.

“Thanks, you too,” Fiona says as she wraps the call, smiling. She disconnects and tosses her phone into the nearest armchair. “You guys, we did it. Mabel, you were right. Maple Falls Park and the land that it uses, where you and Willa both saw the bird, is not supposed to be touched now.”

“All because of that Blue Stone… Wait—” Neesha stops herself, giggling. “What’s it called again?”

“Blue Rock Thrush,” I say as I grab Fiona’s hands and squeeze them. “The town owes Willa Blackwell-Beaumont a parade as far as I’m concerned. It’s not every day you stumble across an endangered bird and it ends up saving a town.”

“Not quite the whole town, but we’ll start with Maple Falls Park.” Fiona takes a sip of tea and then sets the mug on the coffee table. “Once this is done, we should tell the local paper to help pin this and cement it even further. That MacDonald guy can back off.”

Neesha clutches the folder tighter and bounces on her knees. “That weasely lawyer of his won’t be able to ignore this. We’ve got legally protected land now.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat makes all of our heads snap in its direction. I look over to find my mother leaning against the doorway of the living room, arms folded across her chest.

“Did I hear you say you’ve found a way to protect a section of the town?” she asks, her eyes wider than I think I’ve ever seen them before.

My eyes bounce from Neesha’s and Fiona’s until they land on my mom’s. I slowly nod my head. “We did. The park. We still have some things to do—fill out some paperwork and get some photographic evidence from Willa—but we found one way to help save a slice of Maple Falls.”

Mom stares at me for what feels like hours before a tiny grin begins to make its way across her features. She unfolds her arms and steps into the room, eyeing all of us.

“That is smart, ladies,” she says, heading over to the bookshelf on the other side of the room. “Is it one section of the park or the whole thing? ”

“The whole thing,” Fiona answers, plucking her phone out of the cushions of the armchair. “But I know it’s not enough.”

“What do you mean?” Neesha asks.

Mom scans the shelves, taking a book down, its spine announcing Maps and Trails of Maple Falls. “Maple Falls Park is one part of the whole land grab equation. Protecting it is great news, but we need to find ways to protect more land.” She hands me the book. “Does that make sense?”

“So we need to find a way to show that this bird is also living in other areas of Maple Falls, too?” I look at Fiona who nods in understanding. “Like, nesting?”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Fiona says, biting her bottom lip as she scrolls something on her phone. “According to the guy on the phone , the first step is safeguarding the habitat, which is what we’ve done with the park.”

“Or will do once the documentation is filed,” I add.

“Exactly.” Fiona nods. “If someone can also find additional nesting, which is a very possible thing with these birds, as well as an area they use for foraging…”

“…we can protect more land,” my mother finishes, high-fiving Neesha as she does.

“This is nothing shy of amazing,” Neesha preens. “You guys, I can’t believe it. This is better than the time Mrs. Harkins accidentally set the town Christmas tree on fire during the lighting ceremony and tried to blame it on a rogue squirrel.”

My mother bursts out laughing. “Oh, my gosh, I forgot about that! She was waving that charred marshmallow stick around like it was Exhibit A.”

“It wasn’t even a squirrel,” Neesha says, wiping tears of laughter. “Turns out, she’d sprayed the whole tree with hairspray because she thought it would make the lights shinier.”

“Didn’t she still get voted to be head of the decorations committee the next year?” I ask, incredulous.

“Now, that, my dears,” my mother adds, shaking her head, “was a town miracle. ”

“Well, this is a real miracle,” Fiona says, sobering a little. “If we can protect the park and whatever else can be found, it could mean so much for Maple Falls.”

“Okay, enough celebrating,” Fiona says, standing up and brushing her jeans off.

“That person I spoke to said I can file the first form today, which will start the process. We need to get this to the right person and fast, so I’m going to hand deliver it.

I don’t want anyone to be confused by what we’re doing. ”

Neesha leans over and gives me a hug. “I need to get back to the store. I promised Emmy I’d close up tonight.”

“I’ll go with you,” Fiona announces, throwing her coat on as she winks my way. “I’ll go by the town hall so I can file this and find out what our next steps are.”

“With the weight of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service behind you,” Neesha chimes in as she tugs on her coat, “I don’t think you’ll have many problems.”

“I don’t think so either,” I say as I hug her tight, then turn to Neesha and wrap her in a big embrace as well. I walk the pair to the door, closing it as they go and return to the living room full of satisfaction and pride.

“So, you and your friends figured out a way to help the town,” Mom croons as she slowly lowers herself onto the couch. “I knew you’d get the community spirit one day.”

“It’s like a bad cough—you end up getting it if you hang around it long enough,” I manage, trying to hide the smile that won’t quit. “It feels good to have found a small way to help.”

“Here I am running around the town, volunteering for everything to help raise money, and you come visit and find a way to protect huge chunks of our land at a time basically in your sleep,” she finishes and starts laughing. “That’s so you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve always been like this, Mabel. Quietly brilliant.

You see a problem, figure it out, and tackle it head-on without making a big fuss.

You’re so much like your father that way.

” She pauses, her face softening as she looks at me.

“I’ve never been like that. I’m loud and stubborn, charging ahead like a bull in a china shop.

I’ll run the committee, while starting a new one, then make a committee to discuss it.

But you…you’re something else. You are not your mother’s daughter, that’s for sure. ”

I sink into the armchair across from her, unsure where this is going but willing to ride it out. “Mom…”

She holds up a hand. “No, let me finish. I heard you the other day. I’ve been hard on you. Too hard. When you lost your job, I made it about me. I was embarrassed and hurt, but not because of what you did. Because of how it made me feel. And that wasn’t fair to you.”

I blink at her, the words sinking in deeper than I expected.

“When your dad and I split, you were all I had left,” she continues, her voice catching.

“You became my everything, Mabel. And I know I leaned too hard, tried to steer too much. I just…I wanted you to have a life where you wouldn’t need anyone or anything.

I wanted you to be so independent, so perfect, that nothing could hurt you the way I was hurt.

But in doing that, I didn’t see the amazing woman you already were. ”

I stare at her, emotions swirling in my chest like a storm. “Mom…”

“Shush.” She shakes her head, tears pooling in her eyes.

“You don’t need me telling you what to do or how to do it.

You’ve proven that a hundred times over.

You’re brilliant, independent, and you’re doing things your way—and it’s the right way.

You don’t need my approval, but I want you to have it anyway. I am so proud of you, Mabel.”

I don’t realize I’m crying until a tear slips down my cheek. “You really mean that?”

She reaches for my hand, her grip warm and steady. “With all my heart. I just wish I’d told you sooner.”

It feels like years of tension lift all at once, leaving something lighter behind. Something brighter. I squeeze her hand, my voice shaky. “You did the best you could, Mom. And I get it now. I really do. You were protecting me in the only way you knew how.”

She sniffles, dabbing at her eyes. “I might still try to boss you around sometimes.”

“Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” I say with a watery laugh.

We sit there in the quiet, holding hands, the unspoken love finally finding its way to the surface. And for the first time in years, I feel seen—really, truly seen —by my mother.

“You know…” She sniffs. “I bet if I’d been this vulnerable with you sooner, I might not have had the urge to join all the groups in this town.”

“Please!” I practically spit, laughing. “You will always be the first person to raise that hand in the air to help out. You can’t help it, it’s who you are.” I stand up and go sit beside her on the couch, wrapping my arms around her. “And I would not have it any other way.”

“I love you so much, sweet girl,” she says as she kisses the top of my head. “I am so lucky.”

Before I can respond, her phone buzzes on the coffee table. She picks it up, her face lighting up in that unmistakable way. “Oh, it’s Murray.”

I smile. “Take it, take it.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, and I know why. Because a day ago I would have scowled at the mere thought of her detouring at a time like this, but now…well, now, things are different.

“It’s your man,” I say teasingly. “Take it.”

She nods, standing and heading into the kitchen, her voice softening as she answers.

Left alone, I lean back against the couch, the warmth of our moment still lingering in the room. It feels good, in fact, it’s better than good. This is the kind of conversation I used to dream about having with her, the kind I thought was impossible. And now, here we are.

I glance around the room, noticing all the little touches that make this place home—the old family photos, the ceramic vase I made in seventh grade that still holds pride of place on the mantel. Maple Falls hasn’t changed much, but it feels different this time. Or maybe it’s me.

This trip has not been what I expected it to be. Not at all. I’ve reconnected with old friends, friends who actually know me. Finally, for once, my mom and I aren’t locked in some cold war of expectations and disappointments. We used words, we communicated, and look at what happened.

But in a week or so, I’ll be back in New York, back to my tiny apartment with no one to greet me and no one to make me feel like I’m part of something bigger. I’ll go back to my big, shiny, lonely life.

Here, there’s Neesha, Willa, my mom—there’s familiarity and warmth. There’s...belonging.

And, of course, there’s Asher.

The thought of him sneaks in before I can stop it, and it lingers, unwelcome and undeniable.

Asher, with his stupidly charming self, his quick wit, and the way he seems to see right through me.

The way he makes me feel like I matter, and not as someone’s daughter or someone’s friend, but as me.

From the goofball who stole my baggage cart to the man whose kisses make me crazy…

my how things have changed since I arrived here.

I shake my head, trying to banish the ridiculous thought that’s creeping in. What am I even thinking? Leave New York to come back to Maple Falls? No, no, no. That’s not the plan. I have a job offer waiting for me in New York, a chance to be on TV. Isn’t that what I’ve always wanted?

Before I can spiral further, my mom returns, her phone call finished and her smile wide. “Sweetie, why don’t you come with me tonight? Murray’s got tickets to the game—it’s our treat. What do you say?”

I open my mouth to protest, but something about her excitement makes me stop. Maybe I can let myself enjoy one more game. “Okay,” I say with a smile. “Why not?”

Me and my relationships are thoughts—and problems—for another day.