With a nod and a wave, he trotted back to the stairwell, probably heading to his office on the second floor. City Hall was a stately building that housed the clerk of courts, a small courthouse, and the mayor’s office. It was a testament to timeless elegance and intricate craftsmanship. The exterior columns are meticulously carved with patterns and motifs, not for grandeur but for art appreciation. Once you enter, your eye is drawn to the sweeping staircase that dominates the hall. The stone steps had been under the feet of Bells Passers for over one hundred years, and through all the trials and celebrations that occurred within these walls. The entire building gives you a sense of community unlike anywhere else in town, except perhaps at the gazebo.
I pushed the door open and jogged down the stairs into the sunshine. It was warm, too warm if you asked me, but atleast the evenings cooled off as we approached the end of October. It shouldn’t be this warm this late into autumn, but someone forgot to tell Mother Nature that.
Part of me knew I should go home and finish packing, but that sounded terrible, so I turned right and headed toward the park. Before long, walking to the gazebo would be out of the question, so I’d use the warm sunshine as a reason to do it today.
The gazebo was another iconic building in Bells Pass. Just a few years ago, we celebrated the bicentennial of Bells Pass, and the gazebo was a huge part of that celebration. After local teacher Honor Knight, now married to Dawson, conducted extensive research on the gazebo, they discovered a wealth of information about Bells Pass’s founding couple, which led to the gazebo's designation as a historical landmark. New benches were installed along the path that faced the gazebo, donated by several couples who had been married there. Since the benches were in the shade, I sat and gazed out over the beautiful building.
The gazebo will be adorned with Christmas lights and garland in a few months, ready for the annual tree lighting on the day after Thanksgiving. The giant tree next to the building stretches into the sky, and we’ll wrap it in blue twinkling lights that will remain lit for the holiday season. The tree lighting is one of the things Bells Pass is known for far and wide. Some call it the event of the season, with cookies, hot chocolate, and fire pits. The park will overflow with the wonderment of the season and the excitement of the littles as they wait for Santa’s arrival. It’s always something to look forward to, but this year, I struggled to focus on anything beyond next week.
Next Wednesday is the official sale of my grandmother’s home. Once I sign on the dotted line, I have nowhere to go. If I don’t find an apartment soon, I’ll be forced to drive to Saginaw, a full thirty minutes one way, just to rent a motel room. That isn’t sustainable when my job is in Bells Pass. I need an apartment fast, but there aren’t any here.
Affordable rentals were few and far between, but Hazel at New Beginnings, the low-income apartments in town, promised to try to find me something. That was anotherreason I should be busy completing book orders and packing. I hoped that the side hustle would help me save enough for the first and last month’s rent without taking it from my regular check. My Halloween book orders were done and numbered in the triple digits, so I could only imagine what they’d be like for Christmas. It was the one bright spot of hope I had as I faced next Wednesday.
Knowing it was time to start some of that work, I stood and headed toward the parking lot. I noticed something swinging and glanced down to see my shoe untied, so I bent to remedy that. I’d heard of too many people who stepped on their untied laces and went ass over tea kettle. The last thing I could afford was a broken nose or, God forbid, my arm.
“Oaf,” I exclaimed when I was jostled over onto my butt.
“I’m so sorry,” a buttery smooth voice said, and I glanced up, surprised to see Mr. Three-Piece Suit standing before me.
“It’s you,” we said in unison, drawing laughter from us both.
“You’re still in town,” I said, taking his outstretched hand as he helped me up. “I thought you were just passing through. Or are you passing through again and again?”
“Actually, I'm thinking about staying. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asked, taking a long, lingering perusal of my body.
“I’m fine, and it was my fault for stopping in the middle of the path,” I assured him, brushing off my hands. “It’s nice to see you again, and I hope you consider staying. Bells Pass is a wonderful place to live, despite what people think about small towns. There are many opportunities here, but make sure you have housing sorted because it’s hard to come by.” I noticed the slight tremor in my voice and cleared my throat. There was no point in scaring a potential new resident. Just because I couldn’t pay thousands in rent or a mortgage doesn’t mean everyone can’t. Besides, from what I’d seen of him, he fits the profile of someone able to afford a house. That’s not out of judgment, just the fact that his suit costs more than my car, and his car costs more than my grandmother’s house when she bought it.
“That seems to be the first thing everyone says about the town.” He bent and picked up the papers that had been scattered on the ground when we collided. “An LLC?” When he handed them back, his smile was sheepish. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have looked.”
“It’s no problem,” I said, taking the papers. “I just registered my business this afternoon.”
“What? Seriously?”
“Seriously,” I said, trying to fight back the smile but failing as one spread across my face. Despite all the situations I was juggling, I was proud of my accomplishments in the writing world, no matter how small and insignificant they may have been.
“Sounds like congratulations are in order. I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you…” I paused. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name at the diner last night.”
“Major,” he said, shaking my hand. “Hang on.” He dropped my hand and dug in his wallet, pulling out a dollar bill and handing it to me.
“What’s that for?” I asked, confused while trying not to be insulted.
“The first dollar for your business. It symbolizes the milestone of generating income from your dream.”
“Oh, right,” I said, accepting the dollar. “It’s not that kind of business, though.”
“It’s a business that doesn’t generate income from your dream?”
“Well, when you put it that way,” I said, laughter leaving my lips. “Thank you. I’ll frame it and set it on my desk.”
“What kind of business is it?” he asked as his text tone went off. When he glanced at his phone, he frowned. “I’m sorry. That’s my workplace, but hold that thought. I want to hear all about it. I’ll stop in at the diner tonight. Will you be there?”
“I'll probably be there every night for the rest of my life,” I answered, offering a lip tilt so he knew I was joking.
“I don’t believe that for a minute. Your business will be a smashing success. See you soon!”
Before I could respond, he turned toward the street, leaving me holding a dollar bill and wondering what just happened. All I knew was that if Major was sticking around Bells Pass, I wouldn’t object.
