Page 207 of Story of My Life
“I’ll put her to bed,” Cam promised wolfishly.
Mom opened the front door. “Oh, hello there,” she said.
“Is someone hanging up We Hate Hazel flyers?” I grumbled.
In walked Darius, Gage, Levi, Pep, Ace, Erleen, Gator, Billie, and Hana. They were carrying coolers and folding chairs.
“What’s going on?” I asked dazedly.
“Strategy meeting,” Darius announced. “We’ve got a lot to discuss, people. Cam, you were right. Emilie was definitely in cahoots with Nina. Levi found the missing extension cords and the tool she used to drill holes in Beto’s pontoon in Emilie’s trunk.”
“Nina promised to make her deputy mayor if the annexation went through and Dominion could build its golf course,” Levi said.
“Bunch of us are gonna wallpaper her house with Traitors Suck flyers tonight,” Gator reported.
Darius clapped his hands. “Let’s get those chairs set up and unpack the food. We’ll eat and strategize next steps.”
“Hang on. You’re not all mad at me for making Summer Fest an epic failure?” I asked dazedly.
“Are you kidding?” Darius asked. “Sylvia from Silver Haven already texted me and said her seniors had the best time today. She wants to schedule another bus trip next month.”
Mom caught my eye from the door. With a wink she blew me a kiss and then mouthed,Call me,before disappearing.
44
WE COULD HAVE BEEN FUCKED-UP TOGETHER
CAMPBELL
September advancedwith lower humidity and cooler temperatures. The days were still sunny and warm, but the nights took on a distinct autumnal chill. Pumpkin spice was everywhere, and Hazel’s renovations were progressing. The cabinets in the kitchen and dining room had been installed and were in varying stages of being finished. The roof was done, the deck started, and the upstairs guest bathrooms were complete except for the thresholds and wall trim. Demo had begun on Hazel’s en suite, where I’d talked her into a bigger walk-in shower.
And Bishop Brothers was pulling together quotes for a home office addition and storefront renovations for the new café. Plans for a Fall Fest and a weekend-long bingo tournament were in the works. Hazel and the newly appointed Story Lake grant-writing team were busy researching funding options.
Progress was happening everywhere.
I didn’t know if it counted as progress, but more and more of my belongings—clothing, books, tools—were finding their way into Heart House. Hazel and I pretended not to notice that I was spending every night there. Everything felt…good. Right. Iliked it enough that I had no intentions of rocking the boat by discussing any of it.
“How’s the book coming?” Levi asked me as I loaded the cooler into the back seat of his runabout.
The crickets and tree frogs of summer were quieter in the early fall twilight.
“Good,” I said, hiding my smirk. Hazel’s new complaint was that my inspiration was making her write a story with all sex and no conflict.
“Heard Zoey say she’s going to start submitting it to other publishers,” Gage said, untying the line from the dock.
It was a Friday night after a long, productive week. Hazel and I had a weekend full of guest room furniture assembly plans, so I’d agreed to drinks on the lake with my brothers. We were getting along better, not that I noticed that kind of thing. And not that any of us were going to actually admit it. But it seemed like we were finally finding a new groove.
“Yeah. It’s a smart move. Her old publisher sounded like a real shit waffle. You start writing anything that doesn’t suck yet?” I asked Levi as he guided the boat into deeper water.
“Maybe. Hard to tell,” he said.
“What have you been up to?” I asked Gage. “Lawyering picking up?”
“Did two wills this week, a divorce consult, and Zoey has me writing up a new client contract.”
I poked Levi in the shoulder with one of the beers I was distributing. “You gonna say it or am I?”
“Go for it.”
