Page 17

CALEB

Love? She just said love , and the notion sank in deep. But come on, be serious. Emery Quinn did not love him. They hardly knew each other. Seven weeks one summer followed by sixteen years of silence was barely a recipe for friendship, never mind love.

Yet, man, he loved being around her. So much so he didn’t care she witnessed his embarrassing phobia of Ferris wheels. Again.

He eased his grip a little when the ride started. The threat of rain had turned the afternoon sky an eerie, inky blue. Were he on the ground, Caleb would stand on the beach to watch the storm roll in. Instead, he was on a lightning-attracting metal wheel of creaking bolts and flexing steel.

As they neared the top, the bucket shimmied through a gust of wind. Caleb white-knuckled it while Emery scanned the horizon like she was the queen of the world.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” he said.

“Being back in Sea Blue Beach, the resting place of my last carefree days, feels a little crazy. Might as well lean into it.” When she looked back at him, the wind shoved a lock of hair over her eyes, and he flashed on the image of her walking down the Beachwalk the day he and the guys were picking up trash left by West End High.

The twist around his heart felt the same as it did then.

“Caleb, why’d you come back to Sea Blue Beach?

Are you sure this is where you want to be? ”

“You get me three hundred feet off the ground and ask me a loaded question?”

“At least you can’t walk away....”

Everything in her hazel eyes said she cared. She wasn’t being a reporter or filling space with conversation.

“A few months before turning thirty-two, I looked in the mirror and thought, ‘What are you doing in Seattle?’ I’d always had this idea of who I wanted to be, what I wanted to do, and Seattle wasn’t it.

A month later, Franklin and I had a talk about our struggling business.

Then Mom had surgery for thyroid cancer.

The choice to leave Seattle became easy. ”

“Do you think we make choices for unknown reasons? Like, we think we’re moving for family or a job but something bigger is going on?

Would your sister have dropped Bentley off in Sea Blue Beach if you weren’t here?

Would she have driven him all the way to Seattle? I can tell you like having him around.”

“She wouldn’t have brought him home. Nor would she want him so far away in Seattle.

She does love him, in her weird way. And yes, it’s fun having him around.

He dashes everywhere. Through the house, up the stairs, down the stairs, into the kitchen.

” Caleb laughed softly. “It’s only been two weeks, but I’m already dreading when he leaves at the end of the school year. ”

“Look at the two of us. You left a big city with lots of job opportunities to live in a small, politically locked, albeit magical small town, to be with your family. Me? I left the big city because the only job opportunity was in a small town—which I partially accepted so I could get away from my family.”

Emery subtly rested her head on his shoulder, and he felt like she left part of her burden with him. In that second, Caleb knew he could fall all the way in love with Emery Quinn, and shoulder all of her burdens.

Maybe she’d help shoulder some of his.

Suddenly, the ride jerked to a stop. Their bucket swung back and forth.

“We’re not moving.” Caleb peered cautiously over the side to see what was going on.

“Caleb,” Emery said, trying not to laugh.

“Relax. It’s so beautiful up here. You can see for miles.

Wow, the West End really has expanded since I was here last. It’s so bright, especially against the dark sky.

And the East End, oh, it’s so cozy and quaint, like a Rockwell painting.

And the Starlight sign reflects on the waves.

I never knew that old neon sign was so powerful. ”

“Yep.” One word. Try as he might to be the brave man here, all the fuzzy feelings of sharing this bucket with Emery had just dropped out the bottom.

“I’ll won’t ask you ride the Ferris wheel again, Caleb.” Emery wrapped her hand around his arm, and when he looked over, she was right there next to him, holding on to him. “But thanks for this time.”

Two inches. That’s all he had to move for his lips to be on hers. And he wanted to taste those lips, hold her close in this swinging bucket of bolts.

“Emery—” Her name came on a coarse whisper.

The ride jerked into motion and tossed her off his shoulder. Then they paused again.

He wanted to tell her he got on the dumb ride just to be with her. She was worth it. Wasn’t that a metaphor for love? Doing what he didn’t want to do just to be with her?

But he wasn’t ready to say those words. He had a sense she wasn’t ready to hear them.

Finally, they were at the bottom, being released from their seat.

“All done.” Emery popped him on the arm. “Way to go, Ransom, I’m so proud.”

“All right, enough of my Cowardly Lion routine. The wind is cold and it’s going to rain. Let’s head to One More Cup for a hot chocolate.”

“Be still my heart,” she said, falling in beside him as he headed down the all-but-empty thoroughfare toward Sea Blue Way, toward the café, the rain only stalling until they were safely inside.

* * *

On Thursday evening, when Caleb walked into the Starlight Museum for the first Main Street meeting, Simon met him with a grim expression.

“Two houses on the Original Homestead sold today, the ones right in the middle of Port Fressa. They were in foreclosure at the bank. A private buyer snapped them up, but I suspect it was Mac or Alfred. I was wrong about the bank owning ten of the twelve homes. Four of them were simply abandoned, and enough time has passed we can evoke adverse possession claim for anyone who wants to occupy one.”

“You think Mac and Al will tear their houses down?”

“They’d need a permit.” Simon smirked. “I have some sway in that department.”

Caleb grinned. “Careful. If we fight fire with fire, we could get burned.”

“True. They are a bigger flame. Mac will act like he’s a team player, but as the rest of the homes continue to rot, he’ll make some magnanimous move to rescue the East End with a nine-hole golf course.

It’s only a matter of time.” Simon pulled a couple of chairs off a storage rack.

“Though I heard today Thorndike ended their talks with Sea Blue Beach. This has always been about Mac and his golf course.”

“When I decided to move home, Simon, it was to build a business.” Caleb joined Simon in setting up chairs. “I’m glad to help, but I can’t afford to tick those guys off.”

Simon set down two more chairs. “I know it’s not appealing for a young man building a business to get stuck trying to save twelve one-hundred-and-forty-year-old homes.”

“Simon, I love Sea Blue Beach. I love preserving our history. Your generation saved the Starlight, it’s our turn to save the Org. Homestead. But I’d like to do business on the West End too.”

“I’m on your side, Caleb.” Simon paused to count the chairs. “We’ve got twelve. Should be enough.”

The Main Street email had a lot of inquiries, but neither Simon nor Caleb had a guess on how many actually planned to attend.

But by seven, only Adele Olsen and Mercy Kinney, two retirees, had arrived, toting one cake and one pie, paper plates, napkins and forks. Food was a requirement for every town gathering.

A minute later, Ivan Grissom, another retiree, came in with a pencil behind his ear and a folded sheet of lined notebook paper.

Duke Pettrone, the owner of a startup company focused on uses for seaweed and sargassum, entered with his iPad tucked under his arm.

By ten after, when no one else arrived, Caleb started the meeting with three retirees and one successful entrepreneur.

Simon’s expression told him, “Work with what you got . ”

Adele took a seat and pulled out her knitting. “I do my best thinking when the needles are clicking.”

“You must be Caleb.” Mercy sat next to Adele. “Thank you for helping our East End. Everyone, I’ve cut up the pie and cake and set out plates for whenever we’re ready.”

“We’re going to be the slums of Sea Blue Beach if we’re not careful,” Ivan said.

“Or worse. Bulldozed, like Mac Diamond wants. The Starlight will be all that’s left of the Org.

Homestead. My great-grandparents lived there when my grandpa was born.

But mark my words, if we don’t get on the ball, one day they’ll get the whole downtown.

The Blue Plate, the Fish Hook, the Sands Motor Motel. ”

“We don’t technically own the Starlight, remember?” Simon said. “Prince Blue deeded the rink and the land it stands on to his home country. The Starlight is safe.”

“We can’t ignore the fact that the West End revenue makes up a majority of the town budget,” Duke said. “We’ve let them steer the ship for too long. It won’t be easy to pull them back.”

“What Duke said.” Caleb scrolled through the scattering of notes on his iPad. “This Main Street initiative should help balance the scales. I’ve talked with some Main Street cities and—”

Emery Quinn swept into the museum and without trying, Caleb suddenly relaxed.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “I got lost.”

“Lost? In Sea Blue Beach?”

Easy there , Ivan . Caleb motioned for her to sit next to him. “Everyone, this is Emery Quinn, the new editor-in-chief of the Gazette .”

Ivan pursed his lips and sounded “Taps” out the side of his mouth.

“Hush, Ivan,” Adele said. “The Gazette is well respected.”

“Ever since Rachel passed, it’s a rag. Some days there’s no ads. Just tiny print of what the ad was supposed to be.” Ivan leaned toward Emery. “Ain’t y’all paying attention to what you send to the printing press?”

“Yes, we are,” Emery said. “And hopefully, Mr.—”

“Ivan, just call me Ivan.”

“—Ivan, no more missing ads.”

“You hope,” he said.

“Okay, let’s give Emery a break,” Caleb said, “and focus on why we’re here.”

Simon presented a budget to the group, and Caleb presented his initial list for revitalizations: replacing the rusting Victorian streetlamps, applying for historical markers, mending the broken bricks of Sea Blue Way, adding planters and banners, and getting the empty storefronts filled.

“Can we string those lights, you know, like folks have in their backyard, across Sea Blue Way?” Mercy said. “I saw it done on one of those home shows.”

“Now you’re talking,” Ivan said with an exaggerated eye roll. “Good thinking. Lights will save the East End.”

Double easy there , Ivan .

“I like the idea.” Caleb added it to his list. “We can also ask shop owners to freshen up their front facades. Some of the money should go to those projects.”

“Best make sure you distribute funds equally, or you’ll have owners fighting like they did in ’62, when Doyle’s Auto Shop opened up and Garrett from the haberdashery thought it unfair Doyle got a bigger tax break.”

“Noted,” Caleb said with a glance at Simon.

“In the meantime, we need incentives to increase business. One idea is to ask shops and restaurants to stay open late one night a week to draw in customers. Right now, the Blue Plate and the Fish Hook, along with the rink, are the only businesses open after seven o’clock. ”

“We used to do street parties,” Mercy said. “Why not do that again?”

“I remember those from when I was a kid.” Caleb added street parties to his list. “They were fun.”

“What about a mural?” Adele said. “I saw that on a home show too.”

“One that depicts our town history,” Mercy added.

“I like it.” Duke’s deep, bassy confidence settled on all of them. “It’s visual. People can see what we’re about on this end of town. Maybe a bit of affection for the East End will spill over to the West Enders.”

When Simon offered the east-facing side of Doyle’s Auto Shop to be the canvas, the group started buzzing with ideas.

“It would be the first thing folks see when they drive into town,” he said.

“What do we have to do to get a mural, Caleb?” Adele’s knitting needles flashed and clicked. “Emery, when you write the story, can you say I came up with the mural idea and how I think best when I’m knitting?”

“There you go, tooting your own horn.” Ivan’s pencil was still behind his ear and his piece of paper remained folded on his leg. “Ever since we were kids on the school playground.”

“Maybe, but I’m still nice. What happened to you?”

Duke leaned toward Emery and whispered, “You’d think they were married.

Nope, just longtime friends.” Then to Caleb, he said, “I know the boys in the West End pretty well. Let me see if I can convince them this Main Street initiative is good for us all. Also, I’ll donate funds to help with the mural.

” He smiled and nodded at Adele. “It’s a great idea. ”

“I have a friend who is a muralist,” Caleb said. “I’ll reach out to her. In the meantime, why don’t you all email me your ideas for the mural. Simon, can you get a meeting with East End business owners? They need to know what we’re planning.”

“All this thinking is making me hungry.” Ivan headed for the dessert table. “No use letting all this good food sit here, rotting.”

Whether he wanted to or not, Ivan adjourned the first-ever Sea Blue Beach Main Street meeting. For a piece of pie.