Page 3 of The Great Maple Mistake

He looks crestfallen, and if I didn’t know him as well as I do, I’d believe he was actually crushed. “Mom, you said I’d be your little boy forever.”

Dad grabs him by the arms and spins him around, marching him toward the food booths. Luke breaks into peals of laughter, and I shake my head at the antics, yelling after them. “That’s why Mom loves me best!”

Luke calls over his shoulder. “She does not!”

Mom slips her arm through mine and gives my bicep a squeeze. “You are my favorite. Don’t tell Rob. He thinks he is.”

Laughing, I glance at my mom’s husband. “I won’t say a word.”

“Good boy.” She kisses my cheek and slips her free hand into Rob’s. I don’t miss the affectionate look they give each other, and it makes me smile even more. I’m thrilled she’s found a partner who adores her. And I’m sure if Dad tried, he could too. Luke could have his pick of partners, but he’s too oblivious to notice when someone’s interested. And me?Thatunicorn doesn’t exist for me. But a guy can hope.

Chapter 2

Cody

Like swimming through molasses, I slowly drag myself awake. At least, I think I’m awake. There’s a thrumming, almost like the windows are reverberating. It’s a deep bass, but muffled. Coming from outside? My foot starts moving to the beat, and with every passing second, the sound gets louder. And clearer. I catch bits of the melody, and my brain snaps online as I recognize the tune.It’s Raining Menis an oldie but a goodie as Aunt Viv would say. With a groan, I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling, which I’m now realizing is covered in pastel pink wallpaper with tiny rose-red hearts scattered in a random pattern. Seriously, who papers their ceiling? Aunt Viv, obviously. It’s like being in an inside-out tissue box. Humming along with the song, I roll out of bed and yawn, blinking blearily. God, what time is it? I snag my sweats from the floor and haul them on over my boxer briefs. I’m not usually one for wearing much around the house, but since this is Aunt Viv’s home and not mine, I feel obligated to be semi-decent.

Still half asleep, I shuffle across the hall to the bathroom and wince at the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Again,I wonder what time it is. I didn’t pull into Aunt Viv’s driveway until around two this morning. She met me at the door, we said hello, she went to bed, I took a shower and then passed out before my head even hit the pillow.

As I brush my teeth, I take in the whole under-the-sea decor that I somehow missed last night. In addition to the small, ivory starfish-shaped soaps, there’s a fuzzy pastel teal toilet seat cover and ocean-themed hand towels. It’s a definite vibe. Sort of tissue box meets the 1980s. I’m sensing a theme in Aunt Viv’s decorating style. I drop my toothbrush into the seashell holder and shuffle downstairs, following the smell of bacon and coffee. “That you, Cody?”

Chuckling, I round the corner into the kitchen. “Unless you have someone else staying here, it’s me.” I head for the coffee pot and open a few cupboards until I find the one with the cups. I grab a cow-shaped mug, moving the cow trivet out of the way, so I can set my cup on the counter and pour myself some wake-me-up juice. “Is there someone else staying here I should know about?” I know there isn’t, but teasing her is too much fun. I carry my coffee to the oval oak table where Aunt Viv is feeding the last of her breakfast to Stanley, her apricot standard poodle. I lean down and kiss her cheek, then plop into the padded oak Shaker chair beside her.

She snorts. “No. It’s just Stanley and me in this old house.” The houseisold, but Aunt Viv keeps it in great shape. Well, she hires the local handyperson to do that, but she can afford to. Aunt Viv’s a CPA, making ‘the big bucks.’ A lot of the work is remote for several decent-sized companies scattered around the state, and she has no romantic partner or any kids, as long as you don’t count the four-legged one begging at her feet. So her disposable income is her own to spend as she wants. And she wants to spend it on Stanley and this house. And I’m here to support that.

I sip my coffee and try not to think about my lips pressed against a cow butt, even if itisceramic. Stanley nudges my leg, and I reach down to scratch behind his soft ears. “I woke up to The Weathergirls. Something going on in town?”

“Pride, silly boy. Remember? I told you the festival was this weekend.” She stands and takes her dishes to the sink. “Unless you’d like me to make you breakfast, I’m heading to the festival in about half an hour. There was a painting I saw at the Art Walk that I can’t stop thinking about, and I want to see if it’s still there. Then at two p.m., I have a slot for Storytelling at the library.”

I push to my feet once I notice the cow clock over the doorway. Damn, how is it almost noon? Dragging my palm across the freshly close-cropped hair above my ear, I consider my options. I could unpack my SUV, which definitely does need to happen today since I report for work tomorrow morning at eight a.m. I don’t want to drive a fully loaded SUV to the station. But all that work doesn’t sound appealing at the moment. Icouldscope out the town for a few hours before I unload my stuff. It’s been about fifteen years since I’ve been here, and that time it was only for a weekend. I wasn’t even twenty-one yet, so I stuck close to Aunt Viv’s house. Now that I’ll be living in Maplewood, I should probably get to know my way around. Especially if I’m going to be out on fire and EMT calls. And I should definitely get to know the locals.

My stomach growls, and I consider what to do about that too. “Does this festival have food?”

Aunt Viv rolls her eyes at me and laughs. “It’s Maplewood, hon. Of course there’s food at the festival.”

Maplewood. Maple. Maple food. My stomach gurgles again, but this time it’s not with hunger. “Um, do they have stuff that isn’t maple flavored?” She looks at me like I’ve said something offensive. “I just—” I don’t really want to relive the childhoodtrauma, so I let it go. “Never mind. I’ll go take a quick shower and be down in half an hour or less.”

She beams at me. “Wonderful! We can walk over to the park together.”

I finish the last of my coffee, rinse the cup, put it in the dishwasher, then sprint upstairs, excited for the day’s adventure. Even if maple things are involved. Twenty minutes later, I’m downstairs in knee-length, olive green canvas shorts, a peach-colored fire and EMS T-shirt, and my Birks. I find Aunt Viv in the living room reading People magazine. “Ready?”

She sets the magazine aside and stands, smoothing down the front of her bright yellow sleeveless knit top. “Ready.”

As we walk the three blocks to the town’s main square, Aunt Viv presses a key into my palm. “Here’s your house key. I’m not sure how long I’ll stay after my library hour. I don’t like to leave Stanley at home by himself for too long. He’s not used to it, and he gets anxious.”

I’m not going to point out that she’s the one who probably gets anxious when she’s gone for however ‘too long’ is. “Thanks, Aunt Viv.” I pull my keys from my pocket and slide the shiny new addition onto the clip.

“You stay out as long as you want. Like we talked about, we’re roomies.” She grins like it’s the best thing ever. “Just please remember common courtesy about when you won’t be home for meals and when you’re going to be in or out overnight, and same for me.” She pats my arm. “Okay, I’m off to look for that painting.”

I lean down and kiss her cheek. “Have fun. Be safe. And if you find what you’re looking for, and you want me to carry it home, just text me and I’ll come help you.”

“I will, sweetie. Thanks.” She gives me a little wave and heads off to what looks like the craft area. I stare hard at the food booths, take a fortifying breath, and walk in that direction.It doesn’t take long to determine that most of the foods are maple-based, maple glazed or, in the instance of the rock candy, straight maple. I shudder. It’s horrifying, and I can’t possibly experience this solo. I take out my phone and pull up the camera app, switch to video, and make a circle, trying to fit in as many food booth signs with the word maple on them as possible. Then I switch to my messaging app and send it to my childhood best friend.

Me:Guess where I am

Josh:??

Me:That’s not guessing, but since you’ll never guess I’ll tell you. Maplewood Pride

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