Aspen nodded. “We’re actually in talks with HGTV about a show.”
“Seriously?” Piper asked.
“Yeah, it’s just preliminary right now and it’s a secret, so please don’t share on your socials, but it’s looking really promising.”
Kiersten nodded. That was an easy request. The only things she ever shared on social media were first-day-of-school pictures, with the boys standing stiffly on the front steps, clutching new backpacks.
“I’m waiting to hear back from my agent now about their latest offer,” Aspen said.
Kiersten suddenly felt deeply inadequate. “All this, plus you’re raising two little girls and homeschooling and baking muffins for people. It’s impressive.”
“I’m not here to make money,” Aspen said. “I’m here to turn back the clock and return to a simpler time.”
“Amen to that,” Kiersten said quietly.
“Anyway, I need to get going,” Aspen said. “But I have one favor to ask before I go.”
“Name it,” Kiersten said, ignoring the look of alarm Piper shot her from across the room.
“We’d like to have an Autumn Harvest Festival here on Beaverbrook,” Aspen said. “In early November, with traditional gameslike pin the tail on the donkey, and burlap sack races and hayrides and a bouncy house. Old-school fun. My husband’s real estate company will cover all the expenses. And I was wondering if you guys could help organize it.”
Rosamund frowned. “We’re terribly busy getting the homeschooling up and running.”
“But it would beeducational,” Aspen said, blinking her big blue eyes, as though this should be obvious. “Your kids could run a hot-apple-cider stand and learn about entrepreneurship.”
Piper raised an eyebrow. “Like a lemonade stand, but with third-degree burns?”
“Fine.” Aspen sounded a little sulky. “Maybe they could run cornhole and pin the tail on the donkey instead?”
“Actually,” Kiersten said, “I think it’s a great idea.”
This is exactly what she’d missed most about home. County fairs and parades and small-town festivals like Bergen Days, with a street dance and sidewalk sales and hot dogs sold by the high school booster club. Some of her happiest childhood memories involved showing her red-and-white Herford 4-H calf at the county fair. And now her kids could have something similar, albeit without livestock, right here on Beaverbrook Lane.
“And maybe you guys could help some of the older people with decorations?” Aspen said. “We want to make sure all the front porches look ... you know ...festive. And maybe you guys could organize a potluck dinner and also bake some brownies and cupcakes, but with like, a fall motif, like pumpkin spice with cream cheese frosting? And maybe you could also—”
“Excellent ideas,” Rosamund said firmly, cutting off all further demands. “Please share all the details when you have them.”
“Awesome. I’ll send around a Google Doc with a list of responsibilities, okay? And let me know if you’d like to meet next week to go through the workbook.”
“I’ll do that,” Kiersten said. “Thank you so much.”
“Welcome to the Happy House Life revolution,” Aspen said as she moved through the foyer and onto the front porch. “You’ve made a wonderful decision for yourselves and your family. You’ll never go back to the rat race.”
They stood on the porch and waved goodbye to their neighbor as she crossed the cul-de-sac, white skirt fluttering in the breeze like a flag.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Piper
Piper shut the front door and leaned against it, just in case Aspen tried to force her way back inside and issue more edicts about the Harvest Festival.
“What have wedone?” Rosamund hissed in a low voice.
“Apparently we’ve joineda revolution,” Piper whispered back. “Or acult.”
“Why are wewhispering,” Rosamund asked, still whispering.
“Because we’re saying mean things about a person who just brought us homemade muffins and promised to show us how to manifest abundance. Forfree,” Kiersten said, shooting them a reproachful look.
