Small-town Scandal

Chapter 1: Years Pass

The taxi door opened up into the warm summer day, washing over Laurel's face as she adjusted her sunglasses over her eyes. She leaned back into the taxi to ask the driver to open the trunk, rounding the vehicle to pull her bags out. The rest of her stuff had been packed up in her old apartment, and the moving company was just waiting on a new address to send her stuff to. But Laurel hadn't gotten that far yet, looking for a nice apartment to use as her home and also as her writing studio. She figured that, as she waited for her advance to come in from Blossom Publishing House, she would check out the rentals in Eversee Heights while staying with her parents. It would be a very temporary thing, as she was twenty-six years old and getting ready to publish her second New York Times best-seller. She wanted to be perceived as established, and boarding with her parents didn't scream I'm a professional writer who is going to make six figures a year. 

Toting her bags onto the pathway leading up to her parents house, the door flew open as her mother waited anxiously in the doorway. Laurel smiled at her mom, seeing that she didn't want to step out onto the porch in her house slippers. Her mom could be, for lack of a better word, very anal. There were things she absolutely could not do, and was frivolous about her image. It came with the territory; Eversee Heights was the type of place where no one stepped out of line unless they were benefiting from doing so.

"Laurel!" Her mother said excitedly, barely containing her excitement as Laurel pulled her bags up onto the porch, setting them aside so she could hug her mom.

"Hi ma," Laurel said as her mother quickly embraced her, planting a kiss on her cheek, "thanks for letting me stay here for a few days while I find a place."

Her mother pulled away from her, reaching out to tuck a strand of Laurel's long hair behind her ear, "You know that you're always welcome to stay here as long as you like."

"I know. But it'll be nice to find a place of my own --- I've been living by myself for four years. I like the quiet, helps me write." Laurel said, grabbing her bags to tote them inside.

The house hadn't changed in the last four years; the same floral wallpaper donned the walls, the furniture looked as though it hadn't moved an inch, and it still smelled like the musk of her father's cigarettes and floor polish. She liked the familiarity of home, how cosy it felt every hour of every day.

"Oh, you writer types --- always concerned with isolating yourselves from the population!" Her mother joked, helping Laurel with one of her bags.

"You think we'd be more social seeing as how we write about people all day." Laurel laughed, following her mother into the den where the futon was already made up for her. 

They both set her bags down on the futon before heading out to the kitchen where her mother already had raspberry lemonade prepared, kicking back at the table as Laurel breathed a sigh of exhaustion. Travelling from the city had been longer than Laurel remembered; five hours by bus and the other hour in a taxi. But it had been worth it because Laurel couldn't think of a better place to write. Eversee Heights was a quiet village of about six thousand people, though it was mostly a retirement community. There wasn't much for work other than the hospital and a branding plant, but no one ever complained. People didn't come to Eversee Heights to find a top notch career opportunity. Well, Laurel did --- but that's because her job didn't require a specific location. She could write anywhere, even the Bahamas if she felt like it.

Her mother sighed, happy to see her daughter back home, "Are you excited to start working on the next novel?"

In Laurel's third year at university, she managed to snag a publishing deal on a whim. She never expected anything to come of her query, as she had written her novel over the course of a summer. When she sent in the manuscript, it was more as a joke with her friends. They loved her story and said it had potential, none of them realized it had that much potential. She sold thousands of copies in a heartbeat, going on to win a few awards in the meantime. It was even more spectacular as she hadn't even finished her schooling yet. But she made an agreement with her publishing house that she wouldn't write her next novel until she graduated. Now was that time, and she was getting a hefty advance in a few weeks to tie her over for the next six months.