Page 27 of Fake-Off with Fate (Love in Maple Falls #1)

ASHLYN

Seven days later and I still don’t have an official update on my parents.

I’d like to think this is good news because if they were somehow injured or worse, I would think I would have been notified by somebody.

It’s still agony waiting to hear, and of course my imagination has been triggered into overdrive.

Like what if everyone is dead and no one can make calls?

I don’t really have a ton of time to speculate, however, because Maple Falls is up in arms and oddly divided about how they feel regarding Alexander MacDonald taking over his ancestor’s land.

The store owners and people directly affected are panic stricken and want the town to buy the land back.

Then there are those who want the land developed so Maple Falls can “join the twenty-first century” and get a warehouse club so they can buy rotisserie chickens.

The topic of preservation vs. progress is a bigger one than I ever thought it would be. I just assumed everyone wanted life to stay the same. Apparently, the lure of new jobs and bulk toilet paper is real.

All I know is that I’m currently sitting in the middle of a heated town council meeting and all I want to do is run out the door and not stop until I get to the airport.

But if I left town then I wouldn’t see Jamie anymore and he’s become a big part of my life.

I keep reminding myself that I don’t live here, so Jamie is nothing more than a nice distraction.

The problem is that I’m really bad about listening to my own advice.

Jeremy Hunt, Alexander MacDonald’s lawyer, has shown up in town and is currently blathering on about how important it is for Maple Falls to have the kind of infrastructure needed for a town that has its own NHL team.

He’s so superior sounding it’s all I can do not to stand up and throw a shoe at him.

Before I can act out this fantasy, Phillip sits down next to me and hisses in my ear, “Your dad can’t still be sick. What’s really going on, Ashlyn?”

I give him my most scathing side-eye. “The latest word is viral gastroenteritis with a side of lactose intolerance.” I’ve Googled just about everything possible and this is the most believable, non-life-threatening, diagnosis I could come up with.

“Your dad is not lactose intolerant,” Phillip says like he’s suddenly a medical expert. “He has milk in his coffee, and he eats cheese and ice cream.”

I respond with a death glare. “People can develop allergies at any time, you moron.”

Phillip smacks his palm against the tabletop, making a loud enough sound that a few people turn in our direction. In a quieter voice, he declares, “I want to talk to him, and I want to talk to him soon.”

“I assure you, he’s not feeling up to a real conversation,” I retort. “Plus, he says he’s been texting you.”

Phillip’s eyes narrow slowly. “He talks to you and your mother. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen your mom around town either.”

“That’s because she’s been home taking care of my dad, Phillip.”

My mom had been handling her end of things beautifully from Barbados, but now that she doesn’t have phone reception, people have started to call me to see where she is. This whole thing is getting more and more complicated.

I wish I could just tell everybody where my parents are, but now that we’re three weeks into this thing, if they knew dad didn’t come home when he found out what was going on, it would certainly affect their opinion of him.

Especially because my dad does not want the town to know my mom was going to leave him.

Picking up my phone, I pretend to get a text.

As soon as there’s a break in conversation, I raise my hand and tell the gathering, “I’m so sorry but I need to take this incoming call.

I’ve been looking into a few things, and this might be the information I’ve been waiting for.

” Then I practically run out of the room.

Phillip, of course, follows. Pointing to the phone in my hand, he accuses, “You aren’t taking a call.”

“They’re calling in five minutes,” I snarl back.

“Who’s calling?”

I ignore him and walk toward the ladies’ room at the end of the hall. My dad’s pesky assistant trails behind, but luckily he has the sense to let me go in by myself. Locking myself into a stall, I take out my dad’s phone and text Phillip.

Mayor Thompkins

Phillip, I need you to take detailed notes of the town hall meeting and email them to me after it’s over.

Phillip

Sir, are you feeling any better?

Mayor Thompkins

This is the sickest I’ve ever been. Alicia is going to take me into Spokane to see a specialist this week. I’ll keep you updated.

Phillip

I’ve been out of the office for a week, but I’d better head back in. I’m sure the cleaning crew has killed any germs by now .

The last thing I want is for Phillip to come back to work, so I hurry to come up with a reason he shouldn’t. Unfortunately, the only thing that comes to mind is a real stretch.

Mayor Thompkins

Good idea. I need you to call an exterminator in the morning and have him check into the snake situation. Several people have reported that the grounds are infested with garter snakes.

Phillip

Snakes?!

Mayor Thompkins

They aren’t poisonous, so there’s nothing to worry about. But I understand they even found one in the men’s room.

Phillip

I can’t. I mean, I can’t …

Mayor Thompkins

What can’t you do?

But there’s no response. I peek out of the bathroom and see Phillip standing so still it’s like he’s playing that old childhood game, statue maker. His pallor is even a grey-like marble.

I take a tentative step toward him, and say, “Phillip, are you okay?”

He shakes his head slowly. “I … I … How can I leave the building knowing there are snakes out there?”

Shoot, I didn’t think about that. I wrack my brain to come up with something to get him out of the building. “The snakes only come out during the day,” I tell him. “They sleep at night.”

“But … but … they’re out there.”

“They’re asleep, Phillip. They can’t hurt you.” Darn if I don’t feel a little bit of sympathy for the guy. I reach out and take his arm and offer, “I’ll walk you out to your car. I’ll even go first.”

His head bobs up and down slowly, but he looks like he’s in some kind of fear-induced trance. As soon as we exit the building, Phillip pulls his arm away from me and practically sprints down the walkway toward the parking garage. I follow after him at a more dignified pace.

As soon as he gets to his car, he says, “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to come into the office until the snake problem is taken care of. I don’t like snakes.” Then he pulls out like the hounds of hell are chasing him with intent.

Even though I feel bad playing Phillip’s worst fear against him, I’d be lying if I didn’t say inventing a snake infestation was genius on my part.

After all, desperate times call for desperate measures.

And I am nothing if not totally desperate to get that man to stop asking questions about my parents.

Before I can go back inside, my phone rings. Looking down at the screen, I almost fall over in shock. “Mom! How are you? I’ve been a nervous wreck worrying about you guys.”

“Wow, honey, what a rush!” She sounds oddly excited.

“The hurricane was a rush? Were you terrified? Are you both okay?”

“It was amazing!” She sounds like a ten-year-old who just took her first ride on an adult rollercoaster. “We’re both good, but the island is a disaster. I’m not sure when we’re going to be able to get out of here.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” I tell her, suddenly feeling like the weight of the world is off my shoulders.

“How are things in Maple Falls?”

“Same as they were a week ago, except now some blowhard who works for Alexander MacDonald has shown up in town. He’s trying to get everyone on board with the idea of developing the land.”

“It sounds like they won’t take the money even if you can raise it.”

“I’m not giving up on that yet, Mom. We’re going full steam ahead to come up with the cash. Then, if need be, I’ll appeal to the man in person. According to his lawyer he’s out of the country, but I’ll fly to Bangladesh and plead with him if I have to.”

“And if he doesn’t take it? What does that mean for businesses already on the land?”

“I don’t know,” I tell her. “But now that you and dad are safe, I’ll be spending all of my time trying to figure that out.”

“Good girl,” my mom says. “Your dad and I love you so much, dear. There isn’t anything you can’t do once you set your mind to it.”

“Thanks, Mom. That means the world.”

I’m so relieved my parents are okay that as soon as we hang up, all I want to do is celebrate. So instead of going back into the meeting I call the only person I want to share this news with.

“Ashlyn, hey. What’s up?” Jamie asks.

“Want to take me out for a glass of champagne?”

“Did you get Alexander MacDonald to agree to sell the land?”

“Nope. But I heard from my parents,” I tell him. “They’re okay.”

“That’s the best news ever!” He sounds like he means it too. “How about if I stop by the store and buy a bottle and we can drink it at my place?”

“Your place?”

“Not as a date,” he says. “Just a place where we won’t be a source of interest.”

I no longer care if it’s a date or not. In fact, if given a choice, I think I’d like to go out on a real date with Jamie. I’m just not prepared to tell him that quite yet.