Page 52 of Sugar & Shadows

My mom nearly squealed, unable to contain her enthusiasm. This was probably the most exciting thing to happen in the Maplewood Public Library in the last decade. “Take Action Plan?”

Harper shook her head and turned to the board. “Tourism & Agricultural Partnership Committee.”

Nina nodded. “It’s subtle and boring.”

“And Maple themed,” Marigold added.

Harper beamed. “We’re a secret agency.”

“With snacks,” Mom chirped.

“An agency that gets shit done.” Marigold pounded a wrinkled fist on the table.

“Fuck yeah,” Nina cheered.

“Okay, okay,” I said, holding my hands up. “Can we get to work now? We can call ourselves TAP. But so help me God, if any of you tries to order matching T-shirts, I’m shutting this down.”

The whole lot of them shut up quickly and settled back in their seats.

“Okay, Harper,” I said. “Give us the socials report. What’s happening and what do you need?”

She shuffled her notes, her shoulders pulled back proudly. She was wearing all black today, like I was, though her jeans had holes in the knees and her T-shirt was baggy, while my suit probably cost as much as her mom made in a month.

An ache bloomed in my chest. But before it could take over, she dove in.

“I’ve been curating the official Instagram page, but retraining the algo is going to take some time. I’ve launched two secondary accounts, one for Betsy Ross sightings and photos, and one for the maple farmers.”

I dipped my chin. “Excellent.”

“Our TikTok account is up and running, Twitter is a go, and I’m playing around with strategies for reaching the old people on Facebook.”

My mom snorted. She loved Facebook.

“I’ve been on the hunt for more engaging content, and I had an idea.” The teenager’s eyes were bright behind her glasses as she looked around the room. “What if we set up a maple cam?”

My mom tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“Outdoor cameras, positioned strategically to capture the sap running and the collection process. We could slow it down or speed it up and do some fun things with it.”

I nodded, considering how this would work.

“The whole town goes nuts waiting for the first sap run. And leading up it, we speculate and wonder and watch. What if we shared that with the world?”

“That’s genius,” Nina said. “Speculating about when the sap will run is a primary tenet of our culture here.”

“A hyper-specific detail like that could absolutely drive interest in the town,” I added.

Nina turned toward Harper and tapped the pads of her thumb and middle finger together in a clapping kind of motion, her bright orange nails catching my eye.

Harper bounced on her toes, looking so happy she might pass out.

“Town businesses could offer prizes to viewers,” Mom mused. “People online could enter their guesses. We could create a prediction pool and give it a cutesy name. Then dole out prizes or discounts at local places for different categories.”

Marigold was beaming. “What about TikTok? Should we do dances?” She gave her hips a little shimmy, making her chair roll.

There was no stopping the giggle that escaped my throat.

My mom laughed. “Should we call the fire department? See if they want to participate?”