Chapter Thirty-Two
Lucy
The wait was taking forever. The cops hadn’t come back, but Lucy and Serena had retreated to the Jeep for some A/C and to avoid the mosquitos.
“That’s one more thing,” Serena had murmured, resting her head against the window. “Chickens eat mosquitos,” she said before falling asleep. Lucy had plugged her headphones into her phone, too restless to nap…or even sit. She played Candy Crush, looked at Instagram, and watched a YouTube video to learn a particular stitch she wanted to try.
Even with all that, something had burned just beneath her breastbone, impossible to ignore.
I want you in my life, and I wish you’d change your mind. If you do, I’ll be waiting.
Lucy’s fingers hovered over her text app. Sitting here, not knowing what would happen to the hens, had left her lonely and in need of a hug. Dylan gave great hugs.
Had she been wrong? Her fingers twitched. Should she let him back in, even if she’d probably end up hurt in the long run? Or should she swear off boys until college, where she’d be more likely to find someone more compatible?
Her index finger opened the text window under Dylan’s name…what was she doing?
The door to Town Hall opened, and people began trickling out. The meeting must be over. Lucy silently thanked fate for saving her from a mistake and nudged Serena awake in the passenger seat. “Looks like it’s breaking up.”
They sprang out of the car to wait for her dad.
Lucy recognized the older lady who’d agreed with her on the sidewalk, and the man who’d carried her crate to the car, holding hands with a woman. Okay, they wouldn’t be leaving if the council still hadn’t voted about the chickens.
An excruciating five minutes later, Serena’s dad came out. His collar was open, and the bowtie was gone. He walked with a man wearing khakis and a polo with some kind of logo on it. At the bottom of the stairs, they shook hands, and parted ways.
“Dad!” Serena called.
He turned and saw them, waving at a few more people as he came to the Jeep. He smiled at them both. “Well, I heard the police came.”
“I was only ticketed for littering,” Lucy said. “Nothing else.”
“Huh.” Serena’s dad scratched his head. “That’s good. I was worried I’d need bail money, and that your mother would ban us from seeing you ever again.”
“Enough about that,” Serena said. “What happened?”
“Well, my arguments weren’t doing much good. One woman on the council really hates chickens—roosters in particular. All I can think is a rooster terrorized her when she was a girl.” He rolled his eyes. “Nothing I said could convince her otherwise.”
Serena drooped. “So we’re losing the chickens.”
Her dad held up a hand. “Now hold up, and let me finish.”
Lucy and Serena exchanged a look: What does that mean?
“The man I was just talking to? He’s from the state department of agriculture. I’d called them a few weeks ago, kind of as a last-ditch effort. Imagine my surprise when he showed up to the meeting.” He laughed. “Anyway, he was there to sing the praises of free-range chickens and eggs, and to announce that he was working with a farmer’s co-op to set up a farmer’s market in town.”
“Okay, so?” Serena asked.
“So it means that a lot of people will pay extra for organic eggs, and the state wants to encourage ethical farming.” Now her dad was full-on grinning. “They gave me a special permit. They aren’t changing their stance on chickens per se, but we’re being grandfathered into whatever policy they decide. Now, the permit fees aren’t cheap—that’s the council’s way of getting in one last dig—but if we pay it and submit to an inspection every year, we’ll be allowed to keep the farm.
Lucy bounced on her toes, clapping, and Serena burst into tears. Her dad gathered her into a hug. “It’s okay, honey. It’s all right.”
Lucy stopped bouncing, struck with a thought. “How much is the permit?”
“Two thousand the first year, and eight hundred each year after that, if we pass the annual inspection.”
“Two thousand?” Serena’s forehead wrinkled with worry. “Is this a play to make us reduce the size of our farm? We didn’t profit that much last year and probably won’t this year. How are we going to come up with the money and still afford to buy chicken feed?”
“We’ll think of something,” her dad said, but he sounded concerned, too. “We could sell the boat, maybe.”
Lucy looked between them, knowing selling the boat would hurt. Plus, while Mrs. Blake was happy to let Mr. Blake have the farm, she would only support it if the hens made enough money to sustain themselves. He and Serena had built up the farm a bit at a time to be sure they could pay for everything out of the profits from the eggs.
Lucy hoped she could help. She fished her phone out of her pocket. “I launched that auction thinking I could give you money for misters or to help move the girls if you couldn’t keep them, but if I sell enough, I can help pay the fee.”
Mr. Blake patted her shoulder. “Lucy, that’s really kind of you, but we’ll manage. Somehow.”
She punched in the code to log into her auction page. “I love your farm, I love the hens, and I love you guys. It’s only fair that I contribute.”
“But you do.” Mr. Blake sounded bewildered. “You help us out for nothing. You haul water and gather eggs. You do so much already.”
Lucy waved him off, scrolling down the list of items. Every single one had a bid. A few had more than one. She sucked in a breath. “Um, guys?” She looked up at them, suddenly feeling like crying herself. “I’ve made eighteen-hundred dollars so far.”
When she arrived home, Mom and Otis were waiting for her in the living room. Lucy stopped short. “What? I’m not late this time.”
“Geez, Lucy! What happened to the chickens?” Otis asked.
“They can keep the farm.” Even now, saying that made Lucy want to pump her fist in the air. Suck it, Officer Simons.
“That’s great news.” Mom yawned and stretched. “Well, I’m off to bed. Lucy, don’t forget you’re babysitting the quilting class so I can drive Otis.”
Lucy’s good mood faltered. “Okay.”
Her mom smiled at Otis. “Are you all squared away for tomorrow?”
It was a question she’d asked him a hundred times during the school year, but the look the two of them exchanged before Otis’s brisk, “Yep,” had Lucy suspicious.
“Is something going on that I don’t know about?”
“Oh, we’re playing a game tomorrow. At camp. I’m starting for the blue team,” Otis said, sitting up straighter.
“That’s great, Squirt.” A little part of her was sad to miss it. But she’d probably be a distraction—and distracted herself. “Good luck.”
She went to bed, not sure how to feel. She was elated about Serena’s farm, but doubt kept gnawing at her belly, asking if she’d done the right thing with Dylan. And where was this newfound caution coming from? Usually she never shied away from doing what she wanted, not giving one thought about the consequences. This summer had changed her. Maybe Dylan had changed her, too.
Sighing, Lucy dropped into sleep.
The next morning, Mom shook her awake. “You need to leave in ten minutes to be there early enough to prep before the shop opens. I’m leaving with Otis.”
Lucy blinked, feeling slow and stupid. “Yeah, I’m up.”
She hurried to throw on the first thing that seemed even remotely appropriate—striped leggings, with jean shorts and a T-shirt that proclaimed, “Sew Happy.” The shirt had been her Dad’s idea of a gag gift for Christmas last year, but she wore it all the time, so the gag was on him, really.
Mom had made coffee, and Lucy helped herself to a travel mug before dashing to the Jeep. Traffic was light, thank God, and she made it to the shop quickly. She started laying out the supplies right away, busily setting up machines and pulling down extra fabric squares. The materials were about ready when her phone buzzed on the counter. Lucy grabbed it and went to flip the shop’s sign to “Open! Come on in!” before checking the message.
It was a direct message from the auction site: Hello. I believe I won a number of items last night. I’m local to Suttonville. Could we arrange to meet for delivery?
That was a good sign. Lucy checked to make sure the bidder had actually paid then replied: Yes, how about this afternoon? I’m at the sewing shop on Main.
The person messaged back immediately. Excellent. See you…say two?
L: Sounds good.
Shrugging, Lucy tucked her phone away and turned to greet Mrs. Jennings and prepare to start class.