Page 1 of Wildly Yours
Chapter One: Serena
First coffee of the day in hand, I sit at my desk with my eyes on the sales floor. I’m trying to settle into my morning when the office line rings. I pick it up, knowing it's my mother.
“How did the date go last night?”
My stomach clenches. I resolved in the new year to meet someone. So far it’s been one shady guy after another. First there was Mr. Don’t Get Me Wrong, who contradicted himself twelve times before appetizers arrived. Next was a man who wanted a woman with no agency or power. He had the nerve to tell me he wouldn’t be comfortable with me seeking re-election as mayor if we were to become serious. Last night was a guy with a baby mama he forgot to mention, who I found buried deep in his Instagram feed. Canceled that date before he had a chance to explain.
“No bueno. He lied about having kids.”
“Good thing you caught him. It’s so hard to trust people these days.”
“These days?” I take a long swig of my coffee, enjoying the heat as it travels down my throat. “Be honest mom. Has there ever been a time you could trust people?”
“Oh now, there’s someone out there just waiting to be with you.”
“I don’t doubt that. I’m a catch. But if there is one thing that you and Dad taught me, it’s that you gotta watch your back.”
“Better luck next time. Will you hold back three packets of pea seeds for your dear old mother? I’m coming to town.”
A tiny alarm goes off in my mind.
“Why do you need pea seeds? I thought you saved a whole can from your crop last year.”
“We had a small weevil problem with our stash. They ruined the whole lot.”
“That sounds like a large weevil problem. Does Dad know?”
I hear her sigh on the line, and I imagine her rubbing the space between her eyebrows.
“He’s fuming about it as we speak.”
“You guys didn’t freeze the seeds?”
“Please don’t start. I already had to listen to him gripe about it.”
“I’ll hold back three packets. Good thing you caught me before I put in today’s order. I’m getting low on peas.”
“Tis the season for planting peas.”
“See you soon, Mom.”
Despite knowing she'll breeze in on a cloud of spring-planting anxiety, I'm excited to see her.
“Chin up, kiddo. Your Prince is coming.”
“I appreciate your enthusiasm. Maybe you can funnel it into helping me with my re-election campaign. I have an opponent who started going after my use of rainy day funds to save the library.”
“Maybe you should funnel your re-election energy into buying a plot of land before—”
“Bye, mom.”
I hang up the phone and peek through the window that separates my tiny office from the rest of the store. This place has been in my family for three generations. I grew up amongst the wooden shelves of canning supplies, seed packets, fishing tackle, and rubber work boots. As kids, my sister and I did small cleaning and stocking jobs until we were old enough to run the cash register and learn about ordering. My sister flew the coop as soon as she could and hasn’t looked back, so I’m here running things now. It’s a true family business and it’s my job to make sure it survives in the twenty-first century.
The thing my parents don’t understand is that as mayor of Owl Creek, one of the most important jobs I have is keeping community stores like ours alive. I’m fighting to keep the whole community alive. While my parents are busy preparing for the doomsday they are sure is coming, I’m trying to preserve the social fabric. The kind of fabric that wraps around all my neighbors, and hopefully me too. God knows I need it.Somebodyhas to have my back.
I check the weather report for the next week, knowing that as the weather turns sunny the gardeners come out in droves. I’ve got to anticipate the next round of seeds people will want to buy as the ground thaws and the sun hats are dusted off. Which reminds me I need to order gloves, hats, sunglasses, and fertilizer. After placing my seed order I step out on the sales floor and my employee, Hadley, corners me.
“Can we talk for a minute?” Her face is flushed and she won’t look at me, which sets off that alarm in my mind again.
