Page 16 of The Homecoming

Justin pushed Kyle overboard before he could finish. They all laughed, and the guys began jumping in the lake. Daniel shot Autumn a smile and motioned for her to come closer but she held up a finger, telling him to wait a minute. He shrugged and dove over the side.

Hannah got up. “I’m gonna sit at the back of the boat.”

“They’ll never leave you alone back there,” Rebecca said.

“They won’t leave us alone here, either,” Hannah said. She moved to the back and Rebecca followed.

Autumn stood, but Brandon flagged her down. “Hey can I talk to you?”

“What’s up?” she asked, resuming her position.

Brandon sat next to her. “You know how Ben and I are starting the wedding venue?”

She nodded.

“We want to offer you a job as assistant manager.”

“What?”

“Well, you know we’re building this whole thing ourselves. It’s been a giant DIY project. And it turns out that we can’t do it all. I’m failing at customer service. I need you to answer the phone and emails, run the calendar for both construction and deliveries, and hopefully schedule weddings. I never know what’s arriving or when it’s getting there. Please help us, I see how miserable you are at that temp job. We’ll match your pay, and we’ll give you raises as soon as we can.”

“You’re asking me to be your office girl,” Autumn confirmed. It wasn’t a question.

He cringed. “I prefer assistant manager.”

She laughed. “Me too. And besides, it would be nice not to have my boobs stared at.”

“I promise you, we will not stare at your boobs.” He smiled. “I mean unless they just look fabulous that day.”

Autumn laughed, smacking him on the arm. “I would love to.”

“Great,” he replied. “Is Monday too soon?”

***

The water was a refreshing relief on an insanely muggy day. They spent the hot afternoon swimming, lounging, and eating on the boat. Autumn, the skin on her shoulders reddened, tucked herself on the bench seat under the boat canopy and was soon lulled to sleep in the breeze. She woke with a start as the boat rocked when Daniel climbed up and sat beside her. Blessed with a natural glow, courtesy of his Puerto Rican parents, Dan didn’t have to hide under the canopy to avoid looking like a boiled lobster. She sat up and he kissed her pink shoulder as she curled up next to him. “What were you and Brandon talking about,” he asked.

Autumn beamed. “He offered me a job. They want me to do some administrative stuff for them, help them get organized.”

Dan smiled. “See, I told you something better would come along.”

8.

Monday morning, Autumn called the temp agency and quit. She then drove to Huntington Farms, a thirty-five-acre plot of land on the far edge of White Oak just before Monteagle Mountain. On the property in front of her stood a farmhouse with a barn out behind it, and rolling hills that backed up to the tree line before the plateau rose above them and curved around the side. At the old 1935 farmhouse, she found Ben out front, working on replacing the porch railing. He directed her inside to a former bedroom converted into an office in the back. A plaque mounted next to the front door announced the house was on the National Register of Historic Places. A stacked stone fireplace flanked by two large windows on the far wall anchored the front room, which was otherwise empty aside from the wide plank flooring. She followed directions down the hallway to the last doorway on the right, next to the back door. Inside, she found Brandon, ready to hand over the calendar and the phone to her. The desk was covered in scraps of paper with Post-It notes stuck everywhere and nothing was in order. Brandon handed her a walkie-talkie to call him if there were any questions, asked her to organize the mess on the desk, and left. There were plenty of questions, like where to start. The old, wooden box shelves built into the wall behind the desk were crammed with notebooks and paper that made Autumn anxious just by looking at them.

She fiddled around to turn the computer on, but it was unplugged. Once she powered it back up, she noticed that unlike the travel agency’s ancient machine, this was a new computer with the latest applications. She located the calendar, which had been started but not kept up with. There was also accounting software that was, again, not up to date.

She would start with the schedule and worry about the accounting later.

Throughout the mess, there was no obvious point of entry, so she picked up a stack and started sorting phone messages, delivery dates, appointments, and invoices. With no rhyme or reason to the system, it was no wonder Brandon was failing at customer service. Once she figured out how to defeat the mountain of papers, she’d figure out an office setup.

Four hours later, she had most of the desk sorted, the appointments in the calendar, invoices sorted into a pile, and the random notes with nothing but a name and phone number entered into a general contact list. Brandon came in with a bag of food and set it on the desk.

“Hey, it’s the office girl,” he smiled.

She laughed. “That’s me. Wanna stare shamelessly at my boobs now?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he replied. “Looks a lot better in here. Brought you lunch. Rebecca made it, so you know it’s good.”

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