Page 84 of Trick or Tease

“I want to live here with Lucy. We’ve talked about running the farm and bringing people together to have some fun for a few months out of the year. Halloween and Christmas and we were talking about something in early spring. Just haven’t figured out what to do yet. If we can keep up the extra revenue, the farm will be okay.”

I stared at Billy across the kitchen table. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around his dream. He wanted the farm, the festivals, the life here with Lucy. Forever.

“You really want to do that?” I asked. “The rest of your life? Just this?”

Billy tilted his head, a soft smile on his lips. “Yeah, Garrett. Why wouldn’t I?”

I hesitated, searching for the right words. “I don’t know. Isn’t there something else you might want? Something bigger?”

He laughed. “Bigger than this? What else could I possibly want? Me and Lucy have talked about raising our family here since we were sixteen.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. What could I say? That I’d spent years chasing promotions, climbing ladders, building a life that felt more like a series of transactions than anything real? That I’d traded simplicity for success, only to find myself wondering if I’d missed the point entirely?

Billy leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. “You’re thinking too hard, man. Look around you. This place? It’s not just pumpkins and corn. It’s family. It’s community. It’s home.”

I glanced out the window at the fields stretching toward the horizon. It was beautiful, in a way I’d never fully appreciated before.

But still, the question nagged at me. “Don’t you ever feel like you’re missing out? Like there’s a whole world out there, and you’re just here?”

Billy’s expression softened, and for a moment, he looked almost sad. “Missing out on what? Traffic? Meetings? The chance to spend my life trying to impress people who don’t give a damn about me?”

I flinched, his words hitting closer to home than I cared to admit.

“Garrett, this is my world. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

I dropped my gaze to my plate, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. He sounded so sure, so content. I almost felt guilty for even proposing the idea of selling.

I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. The city, the farm, the job, the life all felt like pieces of a puzzle that no longer fit together.

“Don’t overthink it, man. You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

“Listen, I’ve been thinking about something,” I said, anxious to change the subject. “We need to tie all this together properly. Right now, it’s just random events. Pumpkin chunking, corn mazes, hayrides—it’s great, but it doesn’t feel cohesive. We need a theme, a brand. Something that sticks in people’s heads.”

Billy raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“Here’s the thing,” I continued. “We’ve got this incredible haunted house, right? And Sabrina’s been ‘haunting’ it perfectly. Why not make that the centerpiece? Lean into the local legend of Old Samuel Hogan, our great-grandfather. Let’s call it Hogan’s Haunted Farm. We can market it as the place where Samuel still roams, where the farm itself is alive with ghostly energy. We’ll play up the history, the folklore, all of it. People eat that stuff up.”

Billy grinned, nodding slowly. “I like it. Makes it more than just a festival. Gives it a story. Honors our family’s legacy.”

“Exactly,” I said, pointing at him. “And we can tie everything else into it. The corn maze becomes ‘Sam’s Labyrinth.’ The hayride turns into ‘The Ghostly Trail.’ Even the pumpkin chunking can be ‘Samuel’s Revenge.’ We’ll make it immersive, like you’re stepping into a legend. People will talk about it. They’ll come back year after year.”

“Garrett, that’s genius. It gives everything a purpose, a narrative. You’ve earned yourself another pancake.” He flung a flapjack on my plate, where it immediately soaked up syrup.

“I’d say that’s fair payment.” I sliced into the pancake and shoveled it into my mouth. I never ate like this in the city. It was usually coffee for breakfast and whatever protein shake was in the employee fridge.

It felt good to eat real food after busting my ass the last few days. My body was feeling it. Today looked like it would be busier than the day before, so I wasn’t thinking about the gobs of butter I had smeared on the fluffy pancakes.

“We’ll make the haunted house the main attraction. We’ll deck it out even more. We can add more effects, more stories. Maybe even create a little ‘museum’ in the yard with old artifacts from the farm’s history. Make it feel like you’re stepping back in time.”

Billy chuckled, shaking his head. “See, this is why you need to quit being a lawyer and come home. You’re wasting your talents in the city.”

I laughed. The idea of staying here, of making this my life, felt both terrifying and exhilarating. “I don’t know, Billy. The city’s got its perks. But this has been surprisingly fun. I definitely needed a change of scenery.”

“We’ve got plenty of that alright,” Billy said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s do it. Hogan’s Haunted Farm, it is. We’ll start planning today—new signs, new marketing, the works. We don’t have much time but we should be able to get everything good and haunted before Halloween.”

We finished our breakfast and quickly cleaned up. Billy went out to do normal farm chores while I checked in with the paperwork. I was pleasantly surprised to see the copy of the LLC certificate in my email. I printed it out and hung it up in the office. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. We were making progress.

And then the guilt hit. I was giving him all these ideas and plans while also working behind his back to sell the damn place.