Page 109 of A Very Merry Mistake

“Nah, man. I can’t do that. Plus, I’m not convinced that girl wasn’t in love with you. Have you tried reaching out to her?”

“Yeah. My text didn’t send. I think she blocked my number. It’s pretty much over.”

He gives me the flask. “You keep that. Helps numb everything.”

“Because it tastes awful.” I chuckle. “But beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.” When I take another sip, I try to shake off the taste. “Next year, whiskey, okay? Cinnamon ain’t my favorite.”

“Noted.”

We grow quiet, staring at the fire and watching different locals throw their papers into the flames. I hold my blank sheet in my other hand.

Across the way, I see my cousin Wendy with one of her friends and give her a wave. She returns the gesture and then goes back to chatting.

“When are ya gonna tell her?” I ask, noticing how Hank’s demeanor changes when my cousin is around.

“Never,” he says, and he doesn’t have to explain himself. I know he’s had a thing for her since high school. He’s sat on the sidelines waiting for her to be single. Her last relationship failed six months ago, and he still hasn’t asked her out.

I shake my head, leaning over to put my hands closer to the fire. “You should before she starts datin’ someone else again. You’re gonna miss your chance.”

He grabs the flask and takes two gulps. “We’re a fucking mess.”

“I know,” I mutter.

“How’d your drive to Dallas go yesterday?” he asks.

“Awful. The traffic downtown had me road ragin’. No way I could ever live in a city like that. Made me more grateful to be home. But I’m exhausted.”

“What was in the box?”

“Gold bars,” I tell him. “I was shocked. Never seen nothin’ like that in my life.”

“Enough to save the farm?”

I sigh. “Sadly, no. Grandma told me to bring it home, so I did. It wasn’t the answer we needed. I talked to Mom about fundraising, and she said no, that there’s another way.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ve got two weeks to figure it out or there will be a Manchester resort built five miles outside of town. Makes me sick thinking about it.”

“Yeah. A lot of people are worried. This could happen to any of us. We’ll stand together, and if it gets too bad, I’ll move away,” Hank admits.

“And that’s where the problem lies. Locals start leaving and selling off businesses, they get bought up by big corporations, and then we’re no better than any other commercialized city. There will be major chains of coffee shops and restaurants lining Main Street. Then the magic of Merryville disappears. Sad.”

He nods. “It just feels like big change is happening.”

“Yeah, it’s in the air.”

“Shit,” Hank suddenly whispers. “Don’t look.”

“Who is it?”

His mouth transforms into a firm line. “Lacy.”

My eyes slam shut, and I shake my head, hoping she doesn’t walk in our direction.

“Jake,” she says. “Can we please talk?”

I turn and look up at her.

---