Page 12

“Yes, and I’m setting all my interests aside.

Frankly, I’d like to see us do away with all this East End–West End business.

We need to be one unified city. Those old Cracker homes tell our story.

Just like the Starlight or the Sands Motor Motel or the Gazette .

” He nodded at Emery. “Or the Skylight on the west side. Or the Tidewater Tavern on the far corner of the west. It’s all a beautiful story.

Folks, you’re here because you care. Let us know what you want. ”

Crickets.

Bobby rose slowly to his feet. “He has a point. I move we fund a Main Street initiative and release funds to fix up the old downtown, try to build up business on Sea Blue Way. The old splash pad is an eye sore.” He glanced at the council members.

“We all have memories of running to Alderman’s for a float after skating at the Starlight, or going to the Blue Plate for all-you-can-eat pancake breakfasts. ”

Caleb closed his laptop and returned to his chair next to Emery.

After some discussion, Simon called for a vote, and it was passed to start the first Sea Blue Beach Main Street initiative and given a budget to restore parts of the old downtown. As for the Org. Homestead, it was tabled until further notice.

“They’re throwing us a bone,” Caleb whispered to Emery. “One yes for a hundred nos.”

But he took this as a win. By the look on Simon’s face, so did he. Then Emery stood.

“Emery Quinn, the Gazette ,” she said. “Mr. Gallagher, or Mr. Brockton, what are your views on preservation? Are you saying no money or effort should be made to restore and rebuild the town’s Original Homestead?”

“Well, Ms. Quinn, since you asked,” Mac Diamond said, “I think the whole East End should be bulldozed. It’s in the way of progress.”

EMERY

“How do you like that guy?” Caleb huffed.

Emery sat across from Caleb at the Blue Plate Diner. She had been in the middle of recording her notes at the meeting, stretching her journalistic muscles, when Caleb had whispered, “I need a drink,” and steered her out of building and down Sea Blue Way.

Hurrying alongside him, she voiced the last of her thoughts into her phone. When they slid into a front booth, Caleb didn’t bother with the menu but ordered two tall, tall chocolate shakes with extra ice cream and extra chocolate.

“Whoa, Caleb, slow your roll. Extra ice cream, extra chocolate?” Emery smiled. He did not. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know ... It’s just ... Mac saying the Org. Homestead Neighborhood should be bulldozed reveals way more than any of us want to admit. The East End is dying.”

“Seemed a rather bold declaration,” Emery said.

“But after nine years of reporting in Cleveland, not much surprises me.” She sorted through her notes from the meeting, squinting at a very weird autocorrect.

“Alfred, Bobby, and who’s the other guy?

Mac? You could say they’re in the way of preservation.

” She glanced up at Caleb, then made a note for Jane Upperton’s West End story.

“Talk to me about those West End council members.”

Emery shifted as their server, Elsie, set down two ginormous milkshakes. She jammed her straw through the thick ice cream and drew a long, cold sip. She never imagined a town controversy was brewing when she accepted this job.

“West Enders. Born and raised. Except for Mac. He’s a recent transplant.

The prejudice between the two sides grows wider and deeper each year.

I’ve not lived here for almost fourteen years, and while the tension was tangible when I was a kid, it was cordial.

Now it’s taken a seat at the table. Literally. ”

“Okay, but why such hate and loathing in Sea Blue Beach?”

“My guess? Rivalry, greed, envy, jealousy—all the seven deadlies.” He stirred his shake with the straw, then took a sip. “You’re the reporter. Go ask.”

“Jane’s working on a West End story. She and her husband own one of those houses bordering the Org.

Homestead. If the West End wants to bulldoze one street, they’ll want to bulldoze more.

They’ve put a lot of work into their place.

That reminds me...” She looked down at her notes. “Who is Thorndike Alliance?”

“Investors. They get behind small-town projects where the town votes in a small tax to pay them back.”

Emery tapped a note on her phone before setting it aside. “This feels like more than east versus west for you, Caleb.” And just like that, she stepped onto an old, familiar lane. One she’d forged with Caleb when they were teens. Bonded by friendship and laughter, by sorrow.

And love. Caleb was her first kiss. Her first love. She’d forgotten until now.

Her gaze must’ve lingered on him too long because he said, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Am I giving you a look? Sorry. Just thinking.” She shook free from reminiscing and tried to make a dent in the massive milkshake.

She’d moved to Sea Blue Beach to work and build a career, not rekindle an old flame. Or the fantasy of a flame.

“When I lived in Seattle, I saw how the rise in housing costs affected hardworking people with good-paying jobs. If we take land to build another vacation condo complex or hotel, or develop another gated subdivision, where will the cashier from Biggs live? Or the support personnel at the golf and tennis clubs? The Org. Homestead is just a symbol of what Sea Blue Beach is meant to be—a place for everyone.”

“You should run for town council.”

“That’d be the day,” he said with a soft laugh. “I’ll do my part from the vantage point of Joe Citizen.”

“Mr. Ransom Goes to Sea Blue Beach City Hall.”

“It has a ring to it, doesn’t it?” he said. “So, will you join Main Street with me? I could use an ally.”

“I’ll come as a reporter to let the town know what you’re doing.

In fact, give me some details and I’ll write up something for Sunday’s Gazette .

” Emery shoved her shake aside. She was going to need a to-go cup.

“We need more local news for the paper, stories about the actual people and businesses that make up the town.”

They discussed the Main Street project, and Emery took more notes in her phone. Caleb texted Simon, asking for an inquiries email on the town domain.

Caleb suggested Thursday night for meetings. Every other week. Seven o’clock. He asked Simon if they could use the Starlight Museum.

Emery summed up her notes. “The first Sea Blue Beach Main Street initiative meeting, Thursday, January 23, at the Starlight Museum. Email for more information.” She glanced at Caleb. “Send me the email addy when you get it.”

“No backing out now. The Gazette has the information.”

Emery tucked her phone away. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can.” Caleb said, his attention on her.

“Your sister had a son and he’s living with you? Are you and Cassidy friends again? I know it’s been sixteen years, but the last I heard she’d decided to drop out of school and move in with a friend.”

“Friends? No. But we’re cordial. She’s a hippy-dippy wild child, marches to her own beat.

She takes too many risks, in my opinion, especially with a kid.

She thinks I’m an uptight corporate guy.

Bentley’s arrival did kind of heal things with the family, lowered the walls a bit.

Now she has a new boyfriend who’s not kid-friendly and wants to give the relationship a chance.

She asked me to take him for the rest of the school year. ”

“At least she asked you and not strangers. What happened at the principal’s office?”

“He got in a fight. Wanted to be friends with some older boys. He seemed excited to live with me, so I missed any signs of him hurting, missing his mom. He thinks no one wants him.” Caleb finished his story with a long sip of his shake. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, but I’m not promising to answer.”

“You have a sister?”

“I have three sisters—and a stepmother.” Emery knew this would come up sooner or later.

Caleb knew Mom died of cancer. They’d messaged once on Facebook. Then she stayed off social media. Too many photos of Mom popping up on someone’s Wall, along with sympathy notes and memories.

“I can’t tell. Is this a good thing or bad thing?”

“For a long time, it was a hard thing. Then a good thing because Dad was so happy. They married a year after Mom died. The next year I was off to college. But I have to admit I always felt more the welcomed guest who came along with the new husband and new father.”

“So your stepmother had three daughters?”

“Two. Ava and Elianna. Dad adopted them since their father was dead. A year later, Blakely was born.” Emery pressed her finger against the tear resting in the corner of her eye, surprised by her surfaced feelings. “My allergies are getting to me.”

“Must be an ice cream allergy.” Caleb stretched across the table to take her hands. “Hey, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want.”

“It’s okay. It feels good to talk about Mom.” She pulled free of his grasp. “Anyway, after we left Sea Blue Beach, I decided Mom wasn’t going to die. I went around shouting, “Listen up, cancer, you can’t have her!” to sun and moon, stars and sand, and anyone within earshot.”

“Emery,” he said, tipping his head to see her downturned face, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Especially that night...”

“You had your own battles to fight, Caleb.”

“But no one died. Emery, wow, I should’ve kept in touch.”

“You sort of did until I deleted my social media accounts. And as I recall, you lost your phone in the Gulf.”

He sat back with a soft laugh. “I was so mad.”

“Look at us now. Mature, stable adults. We survived.”

“You survived more than I did, Em.”

“You two want anything else?” Elsie set the bill on the table. “We’re about to close.”

“No thanks.” Caleb reached for the check. “I got this. If I remember right, I owe you one.”

“You finally remembered. Wow, Ransom, I’m impressed. And FYI, you owe me more than one.” She gave him a gentle punch as they walked toward the cashier. “You left me with a twenty-dollar breakfast bill. I had to run home to find money for a tip.”

“What’s your beef?” he said, waving the check at her. “I said I got this one.”

“And the next one,” Emery said. “And the one after that.”

“Whoa now, this shake and maybe a couple of coffees and we’re even. That’s more than twenty bucks plus tip. We have to calculate inflation.”

“Inflation? Dude, I’m adding interest, compounded daily.”

“Compound interest? You’re killing me, Quinn.”

She loved when his laugh rumbled in his chest, and how easy it was to find their old friendship.

He seemed, in some way, unsure of what he was doing in Sea Blue Beach. Yet confident he’d figure it out.

But Emery saw a kind, intelligent, passionate man. One a girl could trust with her heart—if she wanted.

“Can I walk or drive you home?” he said as they exited the diner’s back door and onto the deck.

“Is that your subtle way of asking where I live?”

“Is that your subtle way of telling me it’s none of my business?”

“Goofball. Let’s go. I’m at the Sands.” Emery passed the couple lingering on the deck, talking softly and headed for the Beachwalk.

“Don’t tell me you’re in Cottage 7.”

“I am. I know it seems crazy, but—”

“You want to feel close to your mom.” Caleb moved around her to walk on the beach side.

“Yes. And I think not being there would be harder than being there.”

They walked under the light of the Victorian lamps and past the dark and quiet food trucks in a comfortable silence.

“So, do you like your stepmom, if I can ask?”

In the peace of the beach, with its humming ocean and wide, glittering sky, Emery finished her story.

“I do. We’re friends. She loves Dad, so that’s a win for me.

Mom and Dad knew Joanna from their social circles.

Four months after mom died, he sat next to Joanna at a dinner party.

Dad never thought he’d fall in love again.

Joanna was focused on her girls, wary of bringing another man in their lives. But at the dinner, it all changed.”

“Love is a powerful force.”

“Said like a man with experience. What’s your romantic story, Caleb?”

“I believe,” he said with a lilt, “we’re still talking about your dad and Joanna.”

“The rest of the story is they married a year after Mom died. In November, Blakely joined the family while I was at Ohio State. I like to joke she was the whole to meld the halves. But she’s lucky.

She never knew anything but Dad and Joanna as parents, and Ava and Elianna as her sisters.

And me, I guess. For a while I was the mysterious one who only came home for holidays. ”

Caleb stepped behind her, one hand gently on her back, to let another couple pass on the Beachwalk.

“Ava and Elianna’s father died when they were very young, so Dad was really all they knew.

I, however, didn’t want a mother or a mother figure—which I made known rather rudely, I’ll admit.

More than anything, Dad with another woman meant Mom was truly gone and we’d never, ever be a family again.

When she died, our family died. My childhood died.

It took me a long time to reckon with it. ”

They arrived at the motel’s courtyard, where a couple of men sat by a winter fire, playing guitar. Delilah sat in one of the Adirondacks on the opposite side, head back, eyes closed, singing softly.

“Delilah,” Caleb said. “She has a story to tell, doesn’t she?”

“Maybe. I’m just not sure she wants to tell it.”

Emery lingered, not wanting to disturb the moment in the courtyard. Caleb waited with her, and when he shifted from his stance, his hand brushed hers. Such a simple touch. Such a warm spark.

“I should go,” Caleb said when the song ended. “Mom’s with Bentley. Who knows what he’ll talk her into. Grandma Ransom is nothing like Mom Ransom.”

“See you at the Main Street meeting.” She backed toward her cottage. “If not before.”

He waved before disappearing down the dark Beachwalk toward the center of town.

At her door, she looked into the courtyard, hoping to see him there, feeling the slight sink in her middle of missing him.