Page 24 of The Knotheads Next Door
Spreadsheets, schedules, budgets—these are the frameworks that keep chaos at bay. And I am great at creating order out of chaos. As the mayor's chief of staff, I'm responsible for making sure Vineyard Groves runs like clockwork, especially during festival season when the town swells with tourists and the potential for disaster multiplies exponentially.
Which is why I'm reviewing the vendor layout for the third time during tonight's town hall meeting, ensuring every booth has adequate space and access to power. Mayor Tillie stands at the front of the room, her animated hands gesturing as she describes her vision for this year's Harvest Festival.
"We want to capture the essence of reaping rewards," she's saying, her enthusiasm infectious to everyone except me. "Harvesting, growth, the gathering of our community!"
I make a note to order additional recycling bins. Last year's "gathering of our community" resulted in overflowing trash cans by noon on the first day.
The town hall's double doors swing open, bringing with them a burst of laughter and the scent of sugar. Lala breezes in, followedby Avianna and Billie. No surprise there—the trio is always fashionably late to these meetings, usually with some baked good in tow.
What does surprise me is the fourth person trailing behind them.
Rowan.
She looks different outside the house—more relaxed, her usual wariness softened around the edges as she laughs at something Billie whispers to her. She's wearing a dress, which I've never seen her in before, a simple green wrap thing that somehow makes her look both more professional and more approachable than her usual jeans and sweaters.
"Sorry we're late!" Lala announces, not sounding sorry at all. "We brought reinforcements and apology cookies!"
She thrusts a box of what appear to be pumpkin-shaped cookies toward Mayor Tillie, who accepts them with a delighted clap.
"New faces are always welcome," Tillie says warmly, smiling at Rowan. "You must be the mysterious new resident I've been hearing about."
Rowan looks momentarily alarmed at being the center of attention.
"Um, that's me. Rowan Whitley. Though I didn't realize I was mysterious."
"Honey, in Vineyard Groves, using a different brand of toothpaste is mysterious," Avianna says, patting her arm. "Moving here from Heraford might as well be interplanetary travel."
"Well, we're delighted to have you," Tillie says. "Any friend of these troublemakers is a friend of ours. Please, take a seat. We were just discussing theThe Harvest Festival."
Avianna guides Rowan toward the empty chairs near the back. Where she proceeds to drop heavily into a chair with a sigh andcloses her eyes. Rowan sits next to her which --unfortunately-- puts her directly in my line of sight. I try to refocus on my notes, but find my attention drifting back to her throughout the meeting. She sits with her back straight, legs crossed at the ankle, taking everything in with those observant eyes of hers.
"We still need volunteers for the decoration committee," Tillie is saying, consulting her list.
"The pavilion needs to be transformed into an apple orchard by Friday afternoon, and we're short-handed."
"Rowan can help!" Lala volunteers cheerfully, as if she’s offering free cookies rather than someone else's time. "She works at Crystal's now, so she's got an eye for arrangements. Don't you, Ro?"
Rowan shoots Lala a look that's half amusement, half panic. "I've been there for exactly three days," she points out. "I barely know a dahlia from a daisy."
"Perfect!" The mayor beams, already writing her name down. "Fresh perspective! And Crystal always sends gorgeous arrangements for the judging table, so you'll be in good hands."
I watch with grudging admiration as Rowan navigates the moment. She doesn't outright refuse—that would be social suicide in a town like this—but she doesn't fully commit either.
"I'd be happy to help where I can," she says carefully. "But I should check with Crystal first about my schedule, and I do have a kitten at home who needs regular feeding..."
"A kitten!" Billie exclaims, as if Rowan has just revealed she's housing a unicorn. "You didn't tell us! What's its name? How old is it? Can I meet it?"
And just like that, the conversation has drifted away from festival commitments. It's skillfully done—Rowan has managed to appear willing while extracting herself from most obligations, all while making everyone coo over her rescue story instead of pressing her for more volunteer hours.
I'm both irritated and impressed. Mostly irritated, I tell myself.
The meeting continues, with Rowan occasionally contributing a thoughtful suggestion but mostly observing. Every time she speaks, I notice heads turning toward her, eyes lingering. It's not just her novelty as the new person in town; there's something magnetic about her, especially when she smiles.
By the time the meeting wraps up, Rowan has somehow committed to only two hours of decorating help, while Lala has volunteered her for no less than five additional "small tasks" that Rowan has managed to defer with vague promises to "see what I can do."
I'm gathering my notes when Tillie approaches me, lowering her voice. "What do you think of our newcomer?"
I glance at Rowan, who's now being introduced to Zeno from the coffee shop. "She seems... adaptable."
