Thicker Than Water

The MPS Meets

With the kick-off to Mill Days finished, Connor MacDoyle said his goodbyes to the school kids from Creighton Elementary. He waved them off and watched them pile into their bus for the drive back to their school the next town over. He didn't envy that teacher, and it wasn't exactly the highlight of his day, but the ceremony was tradition, even if it made the current version more palatable than the ones that the town held in days gone by.

He was one of many residents who thought Millbrook should bring the ceremony back to its roots. Parents coddled their kids too much these days. Driven everywhere, given cell phones in kindergarten, allowed to sit around inside all day without lifting a finger. He sure as hell didn't have that kind of life growing up. He'd been working with his Uncle Lachlan at the mill for 25 years. Looking up at the old building, he couldn't help but feel he had a tiny part in making it what it was today.

It wasn't the normal place for a 5-year-old to hang out, especially if what his dad had to say. But his Uncle didn't put stock in that outdated mindset. He was more than willing to let Connor help with odd jobs while the Town Council, descendants of the founding families, renovated the old mill.

They'd been talking about it long before Connor was even born. After a few failed attempts at getting it running again, the Council compromised and turned it from a signpost of the town's failed venture to a museum that could bring in curious travelers and people looking for somewhere to host their parties and events.

All the council members were pushing 70, so Connor had to spend a lot of his time hand-holding and convincing him this was the only way to get younger generations like his to pay any attention to the old mill town. Finally, it looked like all their hard work had paid off. He just hoped the old timers wouldn't forget his part in all of it when it came time to hand over the reigns to the Council.

That was up to his Uncle. Looking up to the rounded windows on the top floor of Foundry Hall, he could just make Lachlan's silhouette. Like always, he'd been watching what had been going on down below. Connor only had to wonder if he'd seen the return of his prodigal little dipshit son's return. Duncan was the last person Connor expected to see. He still hated the little brat. If only he'd stayed back in the city. Tensions were high enough around here without him coming in to muck everything up. Then again, having his screw-up baby cousin back could only help his bid for top dog in town.

With the kids gone, Connor put on his game face, and turned back to the awaiting town folk who had come out for the ceremony. With as much enthusiasm as he could muster, he smiled and shook hands, making each one feel important. It made them feel good to have someone so young and handsome paying attention to them, and if he could make the old sods feel good for a few minutes, all the better. Getting on their good side would only help with what he had planned.

Making his way through the crowd, he crossed Court Street to Millbrook's Foundry Hall & Museum for the weekly meeting of the Millbrook Preservation Society. It was one of the oldest surviving buildings in town, its stone foundation quarried locally, like the stones were for the old merchant shops and inn. One day soon, he'd be the one running things but for now, the only power he had was as one of the Council members.

He took the steps two at a time and as he approached the door and hauled it open, almost knocked over Birdy Wright, who was on her way out.

"In quite a hurry, are you, lad?" She asked, bracing the wall as she steadied herself.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Birdy. Ceremony took longer than I thought it would." He reached out for her hand. "Can I help you with those?"

Birdy clutched a stack of file folders and papers in one hand, but still she waved his gesture away as she moved past him.