Page 4 of Room to Spare


Font Size:

Like something waiting to split wide open.

Chaos awaitedKeaton when he pulled up to the site of this year’s mural project. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Maple Hill’s residents were a mix of excited about the projectand irritated, thinking it was a waste of money, and everyone wanted to have their say.

A handful of city council members stood in a loose circle near the brick wall, their expressions ranging from politely interested to vaguely annoyed. Paige was in the middle of it all, gesturing wildly at a giant sketchpad balanced on an easel, her curls bouncing with every emphatic movement.

As he approached, he noticed something he’d missed during his morning run—a small table set up with paint samples and brushes. But now, someone was at the table, bent over a portfolio, flipping through pages with paint-stained fingers.

It was Jules. He’d nearly forgotten they’d painted this particular mural last year. He wondered if having them touch up the work while the city council lurked about would have those who were against the project pushing back, insisting it was frivolous.

Keaton felt a strange flutter in his chest, a momentary hitch in his carefully regulated breathing. He forced himself to look away.

Paige’s eyes lit up when she spotted him. “There you are! I was worried you were going to bail.”

Keaton resisted the urge to turn around and get back in the truck. Instead, he crossed the gravel lot and nodded at the gathered officials. “Sorry, I’m late. I had things to finish up at the office.”

Councilwoman Betty Langley, who’d known him since he was a kid, gave him a pointed look over the rim of her glasses. She then turned back to Paige. “We were just discussing how this project still doesn’t have an official timeline. We can’t make anyfinancial commitments if we don’t know what you’re going to need.”

Keaton bit back a sigh. He wasn’t going to let her make Paige feel bad after she’d put in so much hard work. “That’s my fault. I’ve been looking into a few different options and need to find time to sit down and discuss them with Paige. Once we’ve done that, it won’t take any time at all since she already has estimates for the artists’ materials and time. If we get everything finalized, the plan is for them to start during the Art Crawl.” He turned to Paige. “Do you have time to sit down when we’re done here?”

Paige gave him a thumbs-up. “Absolutely.”

Seeing the council members’ less-than-enthusiastic expressions as they walked down Main Street to survey the other sites lit a fire inside of him. What Paige was trying to do was something unique that would draw people into town. With everyone complaining about the empty storefronts and lack of foot traffic on the weekends, these people should welcome anything that moved them closer to their goal.

Unfortunately, things took longer than expected and Paige had to duck out as soon as the final council member got into his car. “Can we talk about whatever it is you needed tonight at Mom and Dad’s? You are coming, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” His friends weren’t the only ones he’d blown off over the past few months. His old house had sold quicker than expected, which meant he’d had to live in the construction zone that was his new place. The mess had driven him crazy, which motivated him to get the renovations done as quickly as possible. Yes, it would have been faster if he’d asked Luke and some of the other guys to help out, but it had been important forhim to handle that one project on his own, except for the wiring and plumbing.

“Great, I’ll see you there.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thanks for having my back with the council.”

“Anytime, squirt.” He gave her a quick hug. Even if he sometimes rolled his eyes at some of the things his sister wanted to do around town, he’d always support her.

As he turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of Jules again—now standing by one of the walls, head tilted back, studying the surface with focused intensity. Something about their posture, their complete absorption in the task, made Keaton pause.

He shook his head and kept walking. For about the millionth time, he kicked himself for not calling when Jules had given him their phone number. But he had enough on his plate without adding any distractions.

Keaton arrived at his parents’ house precisely at five-thirty. Though he wasn’t looking forward to sitting down with his parents for a talk, he wasn’t about to disrespect them by running late.

The smell of roasted chicken and garlic mashed potatoes hit him the second he walked through the front door, triggering a Pavlovian response so strong he almost forgot why he’d been dreading this.

Almost.

His father already sat at the dining room table, sipping a beer and flipping through a golf magazine. His mother swept in from the kitchen, apron still tied around her waist, and kissed Keaton’s cheek.

“You look tired.”

Keaton noted the concern in her eyes as she gave him a once-over.

“Long day,” he replied, trying not to bristle at the observation.

“When isn’t it?” Paige called from the living room. “You’re going to work yourself into an early grave if you keep it up.”

Keaton ignored her, dropping into his usual seat at the table. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

His father raised an eyebrow. “Hear what?”

“The reason I’m here.”

His mother tsked. “Can’t a mother just want to have dinner with her children?”