Page 22

EMERY

Now . . .

Doyle’s Auto Shop sat at the eastern entrance of Sea Blue Beach. Used to be everyone in town trusted Doyle to fix their cars until more modern shops opened in the West End.

Doyle hung up his oil rag and retired to the Bahamas, eventually selling the large cinder block structure with a dusty concrete floor to Simon Caster.

The wall facing the town entrance was the perfect canvas for Lulu Chan’s mural.

On the first Friday in February, she projected a full-color drawing onto the freshly painted white wall to check her design. She lined up the paints and brushes. A couple of city workers constructed the scaffolding.

Emery stood with Caleb, studying the images that would depict Sea Blue Beach’s history.

Dark edges framed the town and got lighter and brighter as they moved toward the center. From midnight blue to cerulean to cobalt—finally exploding in the middle with a brilliant royal blue haloed in a holy white gold.

Lulu created motion with foaming Gulf waves washing ashore. The sand seemed so soft and real, and reflected the blueish tinge of the Starlight’s neon sign.

In the center of the blue and holy gold was Immanuel, God with us, the man on the Starlight’s wall, legend of the town’s founding.

“He seems so lifelike,” Emery said, more to herself than Caleb.

“Immanuel? He always does.”

Somehow Lulu captured more than His face and arms, hair and hat; she captured His essence. Immanuel seemed to walk out of the painting into the town. Into Emery.

She took a step back, bumping into Caleb. “You okay?” His arm loosely rested around her waist.

“Y-yeah, just for a moment I felt like—” How did she put it into words? That the painting of a God she’d never seen or heard suddenly felt more real than her own heartbeat.

“This thing is going to be amazing,” Caleb said. “Adele’s idea may have jump-started an East End revival.”

“This will be a tourist attraction for sure.” For the Gazette , Emery was covering the story herself.

And she’d hired a renowned professional photographer, Kadasha Collier, to cover the progress.

It cost more than a month’s salary, but beautiful pictures in the paper would boost the Gazette’s reputation.

Lulu set the Starlight and Prince Blue, the old sawmill and Malachi Nickle on either side of Immanuel, and somehow with her art, showed the town growing around them.

The Sands Motor Motel, the Beachwalk, and the food trucks, with a hint of a carnival Ferris wheel anchored the left side of the wall.

On the right, a large, glowing West End hotel, shopping centers, the Skylight, the Sunset Bowling Parlor, and the Tidewater Inn.

Lulu included milestones like the 1952 Nickle High state football champions and the 2006 West End girls’ volleyball champs.

“I don’t know how she did it, but I feel like I’m part of the mural,” Emery said. “Wanting to preserve the past while embracing the present.” She looked at Caleb. “We can do both, right? We don’t have to give up history for progress. Or progress for history.”

“I think that’s what Main Street is about.” The light in his eyes seemed to tie up all her feelings about the mural, Caleb, and returning to Sea Blue Beach. As if she was supposed to be here by some divine ordinance. Not because it was her only option.

Caleb Ransom , what are you doing to me? One thing she knew for sure. She didn’t come here to fall in love.

“Kids, I think we’re ready.” Lulu had finished setting up painting stations.

She was tall and thin, with a mane of dark hair gathered underneath a scarf.

In her mid-fifties, she had an air of get out of my way , I’m not done yet.

“I’ve divided the wall into sections ..

. and what an amazing space. I feel rather blessed. ”

About a dozen folks stood around the scaffolding—kids from Nickle and West End High art classes, several local artists, and a couple of commercial painters.

Caleb’s parents joined the party with Bentley.

Bobby, Alfred, and Mac from the town council stood around, watching.

Simon was dressed to paint, along with the Main Street crew.

The February day was perfect for the rejuvenation of a town. The sun blazed through a blue sky. The air had the right amount of chill. Paige from the Blue Plate set out breakfast sandwiches, coffee, and tea. Misty from Sweet Conversations donated donuts, scones, and sweet breads.

Someone sounded an air horn, and Caleb introduced Lulu Chan. “She’s painted murals all over the world, and we’re very lucky to have her. So, listen up. She’s going to tell us what to do.”

Lulu explained how the day would go, assigning groups to cover the wall with various colors. The kids were assigned sections on the ground, while experienced painters and adults were on the scaffolding.

“Above all, have fun,” Lulu said. “Don’t worry about being too exact. I can fix what I don’t like. Consider this a giant paint-by-color. Next week, I’ll start painting the details.”

“When do you have to file your story?” Caleb asked.

“I told Rex I’d have it to him by four. He’ll break my heart by slicing it to pieces with his red pen, then I’ll rewrite.

The photographer promised to send pictures by five.

We’ve set aside a two-page spread for this.

I even managed a few premier advertisers for it.

” She nodded to the aloof town council members. “Are they supporting or plotting?”

“Who knows. If possible, both. Elections are coming up next year.”

Emery was about to pick a section of wall to paint when Lulu tapped her on the shoulder. “You and Caleb ... up on the scaffold with me.”

“Me?” Caleb stepped back, and Emery reached for his hand.

“It’s the best place.” Lulu angled toward them, grinning. “No one drops paint on your head.”

Emery nudged Caleb as he inspected the structure, giving it a good shake, muttering, “It is high. Very high.”

“You don’t have to go up there,” she whispered. “Paint with Bentley.”

He glanced around, then at her. “Don’t make it easy for me to wimp out.”

After another shake and quick inspection of the nuts and bolts, he climbed up, muttering to himself. Emery followed, not laughing. No. Not laughing at all.

“The prince would be proud, Ransom. And Immanuel. Tell yourself you’re doing it for the town.”

Lulu positioned Emery in the middle with the gold paint and Caleb next to her with the rich dark blue.

Moment by moment, the wall began to tell the story of Sea Blue Beach in vivid color, inspiring those who came to reminisce, recalling tales from their parents and grandparents.

Simon and others talked about Tuesday Knight, who used to run the Starlight.

And eighty-five-year-old Dr. Marvin Crane’s grandfather smoked cigars with Prince Blue before he went to the Great War.

Emery continued piecing together her story, thoughts on how sharing this moment brought people together, reminding them of their place in the town history. “History feels like it began the day one was born. But it began long before,” she said into her phone.

Caleb stoutly and bravely did his part, working alongside her, looking like a natural, talking to Simon most of the time, occasionally glancing over at her with a childlike grin. “Look at me , no hands.”

Emery had just finished painting the top middle section an amazing, brilliant gold when someone called her name.

“Emery Quinn, hey, someone’s here to see you.”

“Who? Me?” Everyone she knew was painting the wall.

But when she looked down, Ava stood next to Bobby Brockton.

“Ava? W-what are you doing ... Oh no, what’s wrong?

” She shoved her brush at Caleb, missing his hand and smearing his shirt with gold.

“I knew it. I knew coming here would lead to disaster.”

Caleb glanced at his painted chest, then Emery. “What’s going on? What are you talking about?”

She felt cold and weak as she climbed down the scaffold. “Is it Dad? Tell me. Tell me now. Why didn’t someone call?”

“Can we talk somewhere?” Ava tried to pull Emery aside. “Please.”

“About what? Ava, is Dad okay?” She could not be in Sea Blue Beach again , hearing her only parent was sick and dying.

“Yes, yes, he’s fine, I’m sorry. I should’ve called first, but I—” She looked horrible. Circles under her eyes, hair in a messy topknot—not the sexy kind. Her blouse was wrinkled, and her baggy jeans had a mustard stain. This was not Ava.

“Hey, are you all right?” Emery gently touched her arm.

“Yes. No. Well, of course it must look strange for me to be here, and well, no, Emery, to be honest, I’m a mess.

” When she looked up, there was a looming sadness in her eyes.

“Otherwise why would I be here looking like I rolled out of bed, bought an airplane ticket, ate a hot dog with too much mustard and”—she pointed to the mural—“interrupted my sister while she paints ... what are you all doing?”

“Painting a mural of the town history.”

Ava moved for a better look. “Is that Lulu Chan? I love her work. Wow, how’d you get her?”

“She’s a friend of Caleb’s.” Emery waved at him, staring down at them, kneeling and gripping onto the side of the scaffold with both hands.

“That’s Caleb? Your summer love?” Ava’s wide eyes exposed her thoughts. “From, like, sixteen years ago?”

“How do you know about him?”

Ava made a face. “How do you think? Dad.”

Emery sighed. “Yes, that’s him, and we’re just friends.”

“He’s gorgeous.”

“I know, but we’re not here to talk about him.” Emery removed her gloves. “Have you eaten anything more than a hot dog today? Why don’t we grab some lunch?”

“Yes, please.”

She texted Caleb she was taking Ava to the Blue Plate. Up Sea Blue Way, they walked in silence. There was no use for small talk at this point, though Ava had reassured her everyone at home was healthy and thriving.

At the diner, the hostess sat them on the deck, near the firepit. They each ordered a hot chocolate and the eggs benedict.