Page 2 of Fall for You (Second Chances #7)

Ronnie

“ W hat do you mean I have to work with Alana Doyle? What is she even doing back in town?”

I looked between my mother and Aunt – otherwise known as Mayor Susie. Was I having some kind of auditory hallucination. Alana hadn’t lived here in twelve years…

“There was some trouble in New York,” Aunt Susie said, lowering her voice conspiratorially even though it was only the three of us in this kitchen.

“Alana left her job – or maybe got fired I’m not sure -- so she’s come home for a while.

It’s a prime opportunity for us to use her marketing skills to help the festival. ”

“I thought she worked in advertising,” I said in confusion.

Actually there was no ‘thinking’ about it. I’d been stalking her Instagram for years, the way you did when someone broke your heart and took off to make it big without you.

“Advertising. Marketing. It’s all the same thing,” Aunt Susie said dismissively.

“Actually, I don’t think it is,” I said.

I knew, because I’d looked it up.

“Since Patterson Farm has always been the focal point of the festival, she’ll need to spend a lot of time here,” Mom said. “It’ll be like old times.”

Images of Alana and I hanging out here on the farm flashed before my eyes like a movie reel.

Horseback riding… swimming in the creek…

watching movies… dressing up as monsters to scare people in the corn maze…

camping in the barn -- the same barn where we’d lost our virginity with each other our senior year of high school.

The memories hit me like a punch to the gut.

We’d been so young and in love back then.

I thought we’d head down to University of Illinois together, get our degrees, and come back to Hayword for our happily ever after here on the farm.

But then Alana got a scholarship at NYU and the chance to have a career in advertising.

She’d left me in the dust, moving to New York City, never to be heard from again.

And now she was unemployed and back in town living with her parents? My, how the mighty had fallen.

Sure, call me bitter. That’s what happens when your heart gets broken.

“Can’t someone else work with her?” I asked, hearing the tone of desperation in my voice.

My mother did too, because she gave me one those looks, the kind that said she knew there was more to the story, but her patience was already running thin.

“You wanted to be in charge of the Patterson Farm part of the Fall Festival,” she reminded me.

“You demanded that your father and I step back and let you try to, as you said, bring our part of the Festival into this century . If you want the big girl job, then you have to deal with everything, including having to work with your ex-girlfriend.”

My mouth dropped open and I was pretty sure that my eyes were wide as saucers.

“Yes Veronica Marie, I’m well aware that you and Alana Doyle were an item back in high school. You weren’t as stealthy as you thought you were.”

This was shocking news. Neither of my parents had ever said a thing to me about Alana or being a lesbian in high school.

“But…”

“I never said anything because your father and I were waiting for you to come out to us in your own time,” Mom said quietly. “Of course we didn’t know it would take you another four years, but the important thing is that you finally trusted us enough to be your true self with us.”

My eyes filled with tears before I quickly blinked them away. My parents really were the best, even if they did drive me crazy sometimes. Now I was sorry I hadn’t confided in them in high school like I’d wanted to,.

I got out of my chair and walked over to give Mom a hug. “Thanks, Mom.”

Mom patted my shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be fine working with Alana. It’s been twelve years since she left. You’re not the same people anymore.”

A few hours later I drove my battered pickup truck to ‘downtown’ Hayword for the Festival planning meeting. Parking in front of City Hall, I headed up to my aunt’s office suite and into the conference room where the other planning committee members were already milling around the table.

“Okay everyone, it’s two o’clock, let’s take our seats please,” my aunt announced, ever punctual.

I’d just sat down when the door crashed open with the bang of someone who didn’t know that the hinges were too loose. Every eye in the room went to the doorway where Alana Doyle stood, a slight pink flush rising up her pale cheeks.

I hadn’t seen her since the summer after high school graduation, but I would have recognized Alana anywhere.

Her red hair was darker now, more auburn really, falling past her shoulders in a sleek curtain.

She was a few pounds heavier than she’d been at eighteen, the extra weight filling out her breasts and hips, although her waist was still small and her arms and legs were lightly muscled.

I wondered if she still ran every day like she had when we were younger.

Alana looked around, her green eyes homing in on me, her face unreadable. We stared at each other for a long, charged moment, a wealth of emotions passing between us before she seemed to remember that we weren’t alone.

“I apologize for my tardiness,” she murmured. “I’ve never been inside City Hall before.”

My aunt only became mayor after she left, so she would have had no reason to come to the building.

“Have a seat, Alana,” Aunt Susie instructed. “You probably know everyone here, but let’s do a round of introductions just in case.”

Alana pulled out an iPad and began typing notes, presumably who was present.

The changes in Alana weren’t just physical, I realized. There was an air of confidence around her that hadn’t been there before. She was fancier now too, her time in New York changing her. Her fingernails were nicely manicured, her make-up subtle, her clothes casual but obviously high end.

I barely resisted snorting in derision. We didn’t care much for fancy here in Hayword.

Aunt Susie led us through the agenda items until we came to the last item on the list. I mostly tuned out, my mind too preoccupied with Alana’s unexpected presence.

“Now, let’s talk about marketing for the Festival,” she said. “We are fortunate to have a bona fide marketing expert here helping us, all the way from New York City.”

She gave Alana an expectant look. “Tell us what your plan is, dear.”

Alana’s eyes flew to mine, widening slightly, then she glanced back at my aunt.

“I just found out about this gig last night, Mayor Susie. I’m afraid I’m going to need a day or two to catch up on what’s been done in the past and figure out a plan.”

She looked around and added, “But to be clear, my experience is in advertising, not marketing.”

“What’s the difference?” Ida Green yelled. She had to yell, she was hard of hearing and routinely turned off her hearing aid.

“Advertising focuses on getting consumers to want to purchase a specific product or group of products,” Alana explained in a professional tone, like maybe she’d talked about this in a presentation before.

“Marketing is more focused on identifying broad consumer needs and using public relations tactics and social media to highlight consumer demand.”

The room was dead silent for a full thirty seconds before Ida yelled, “Sounds like the same thing to me! Are you going to be able to convince people to come back to the Fall Festival or not? It’s been lagging ever since that damned pandemic.”

Alana looked at me again before she answered, “I’ll do my best to make this the most successful Fall Festival ever.”

“All right then!” Ida yelled. “Meeting adjourned.”

“Ida, I’m the mayor, I’m the one who decides the meeting is adjourned,” Aunt Susie chastised.

Ida waved her hand impatiently. “Well go ahead then. I need to get home for Wheel of Fortune.”

“Meeting adjourned,” Aunt Susie pronounced. “Alana, Ronnie, please stay after for a moment. I’d like to talk to you.”

I had the strangest sensation like I was in trouble for something. After everyone had filed out Aunt Susie looked between us.

“I want to be clear, there’s a lot riding on this Fall Festival going well including, I may remind you Ronnie, the survival of your family’s farm.”

Alana frowned.

It was true, the farm had been struggling the last few years, enough that we’d been considering selling off some of our land. A successful Fall Festival would go a long way to putting us back on track.

“I know you two have some kind of romantic history, but I expect you to put it behind you and focus on the good of the town,” Aunt Susie said sternly.

“I want everyone on this committee including the two of you to be one hundred percent focused on the success of this Festival. Do you understand me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Alana said.

“Yes, Mayor Susie,” I said at the same time.

“Good. I’ll let you two get reacquainted and start working on your plan. I expect a full report at next week’s meeting.”

And then we were alone for the first time since Alana Doyle broke my heart twelve years ago.