Trinity Falls. Regina Hart

winding through the neighborhood displayed banners heralding next year’s Trinity Falls Sesquicentennial, the 150th birthday of his hometown. They read: 150 YEARS STRONG. He’d already caught the community’s excitement. Was the sole heir of the town’s founding family also excited? Last he’d heard, Jackson Sansbury had withdrawn from the town.

      It had been a stressful six weeks since he’d announced his resignation at the end of August. Now with the scent of autumn washing over him, Ean’s tension drained from his muscles. Coming home had been the right thing to do. He’d had some trouble sleeping last night. But that had been because of the crickets, not because of his caseload.

      He smiled, listening to the birds rehearsing their harmony as they perched high on the trees along his street. He took another deep breath, enjoying the clean, crisp air as the sun slowly rose, turning the sky a pale gray.

      “Welcome home, Ean.” The disembodied voice drew him from his thoughts.

      Ean looked up as he approached his neighbor’s oversized, stately house, across the street from his family’s home. He hadn’t noticed the tiny old woman standing in the threshold of her front door. She was wrapped in a thick green sweater two sizes too large for her.

      Ean stopped at the end of her paved walkway, looking up at her. “Good morning, Ms. Helen. Thanks for the welcome.”

      Helen Gaston, or “Ms. Helen,” as the residents of Trinity Falls called her, had been ancient the day Ean was born. Since then, time had stood still for her.

      “Come on in.” She waved him up with a slim right arm. “Get out of the cold. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

      How could he refuse?

      Ean glanced at Ms. Helen’s sesquicentennial banner as he climbed the five redbrick steps and crossed the spacious porch. He toed off his running shoes beside her front door so he wouldn’t track mud from his run into his neighbor’s home.

      Ms. Helen stepped backward, pulling the front door wider as she moved. “I’m glad to see New York didn’t leech out the good manners your parents instilled in you.”

      “No, ma’am, it didn’t.” Ean crossed into her foyer in his stocking feet. He watched Ms. Helen disappear into her kitchen.

      A deep breath drew in the scent of apple potpourri. The room was inviting, with honey wood flooring and bright yellow walls. Ean wandered closer to what appeared to be original framed watercolor paintings of the view outside Ms. Helen’s home. Very nice.

      Heavy pale brocade curtains were drawn open over the row of windows to his left, allowing the gray morning light inside. A reclining chair was stationed in front of the windows, apparently to assist in neighborhood surveillance. In warmer weather, that chair would stand on her balcony. Ean’s gaze dropped to the current issue of the women’s magazine resting on the seat. Ms. Helen’s nephew bought her a subscription to the monthly journal every Christmas. Did she still accuse the postal carrier of reading it before he delivered it to her?

      His hostess returned from the kitchen with a tall glass of ice water. “You went running this morning in the dark.”

      A glance at the chair answered how his vigilant neighbor had known that. Ever since he was a child, Ms. Helen seemed to know everything that occurred in Trinity Falls, sometimes before it happened.

      Ean swallowed a gulp of water. “It was dark when I started running, but the sun came up pretty quickly.”

      “Did you notice the streetlamps along the jogging path in the park?”

      An image of the lamps, each waving a 150 YEARS STRONG flag, flashed across his memory. “Yes, they’re new.”

      “Not that new.” Ms. Helen nodded toward his house across the street. “Adding the streetlamps was your mother’s idea. Did you know that?”

      Ean’s brows rose in surprise. “No, ma’am. I didn’t know that.”

      Ms. Helen nodded for emphasis. “Yes, indeed. That was Doreen’s idea, although Mayor Ramona McCloud takes the credit.”

      Ramona was mayor. His former high-school girlfriend had e-mailed him after she’d been elected three years ago. What had made her become political?

      “It doesn’t surprise me that my mother recommended the town council add lamps to the path. She’s been active in supporting improvements for Trinity Falls all my life.”

      “Longer than that.” Ms. Helen nodded again. “You know she’s jogging now.”

      Another bit of news he hadn’t been aware of. “No, ma’am, she hasn’t mentioned that.”

      “She started jogging with Megan McCloud when your father got ill. Said exercise helped clear her mind. I’d sit with your father in the mornings, until after your mother came home and cleaned herself up.”

      Ean felt sick. He should have been the one watching over his father, waiting until his mother returned from her run. “Thank you for helping my parents.”

      “I was happy to do it.” Ms. Helen waved a thin, wrinkled hand dismissively. She glanced out the window toward his house again. “Young man, it’s good that you’re home. Trinity Falls needs the shake-up.”

      “I’m not here to shake things up.”

      Ms. Helen clucked her tongue. “That doesn’t matter. It’ll happen, anyway. Some people are shuffling around here like they’re afraid to make a move. But you’re not afraid, and you know how to make things happen, just like on the football field. People used to call you ‘Fearless Fever.’ I’m looking forward to the fireworks.”

      “There won’t be any fireworks, ma’am. I’m not here to change anything.”

      “Then why did you come home, Ean Fever?”

      Ean crossed his arms. His stomach was still queasy over the fact he’d been hundreds of miles away when his parents had needed him. “I came home to take care of my mother.”

      Ms. Helen’s expression softened. “You’re a good son, Ean. And I’m sure your mother appreciates the sentiment.”

      “Thank you, Ms. Helen.”

      She continued as though Ean hadn’t spoken. “But Doreen Fever is one woman who doesn’t need anyone to take care of her.”

      Ean smiled as he waited for Ms. Helen to stop laughing over her own words. “I want to be here if she needs me.”

      “Trinity Falls hasn’t changed much since you’ve been gone, a couple of new shops, a new restaurant, streetlamps in the park. But people change. That’s a good thing. People shouldn’t stay the same. It means they’re not learning. Do you understand me?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      She gestured toward him with her fragile hands. “Like you. When you were younger, it was always, ‘Hi, Ms. Helen. Bye, Ms. Helen.’ You were always on the go. And I’d call after you, ‘Don’t spend all your time on the field. Hit those books.’”

      Ms. Helen’s gaze returned to the window. Why did she keep looking at his home?

      “I remember.”

      “But now that you’re older, you know you need to slow down. That’s why you’re here, standing in my foyer, taking time to talk with me.”

      Ean was irritated with his teenage self. He’d been too wrapped up in what he wanted to spend a few minutes with a charming and interesting old lady. “You’re right, Ms. Helen. And spending time with you is definitely a change for the better.”

      “Save those fancy words for your lady friends.” Ms. Helen’s thin cheeks blushed.

      “You’re breaking my heart, Ms. Helen.” Ean handed her his empty glass before opening her front door. “I’d better get cleaned up. Enjoy your day.”

      “You do the same.”