Page 33

CALEB

Now . . .

Work had finally started on Alderman’s Pharmacy. Liking hands-on experience, and to keep an eye on the historical elements, Caleb joined the construction crew removing rotting beams and floors and the odd wall someone added in the seventies to the upstairs apartment.

Thursday afternoon, Jenny Finch arrived in her high-heeled, high-fashion manner to check on the progress. Caleb rolled out the printed plans across the long, dark mahogany counter where Alderman’s used to serve milkshakes, floats, and fizzes.

“Excellent, Caleb. I love it.” Jenny compared the plans to the pictures she’d acquired when she bought the place. “I want to walk into 1902 when I pass through that door. Let all the modern stuff be behind walls, under the floor, and in the attic.”

“Sourcing some of these items, like the pulls for the old soda fountain, will be pricy. We may have to order custom made.”

“Do what you have to do. I want the detail, Caleb. I picked you because I knew you’d make sure the pharmacy was restored to its original beauty.”

H e regarded her for a moment before rolling up the plans. “What brought you to that conclusion?”

“I do my homework.” Jenny slid her arm through the arched handles of her Hermès handbag.

His ex, Lizzie, had educated him on Hermès Birkin, Prada, and Louis Vuitton.

“Listen, I got a call from a Mac Diamond. He offered to buy me out. Says he has plans for the East End and doesn’t want me to lose my investment. But I don’t roll that way.”

If Caleb didn’t respect Ms. Finch before now ... “Mac wants the entire East End as his money-making playground.”

“So I gathered. Listen, if you need anything from me, let me know. And what’s this about something called the Org. Homestead?”

“He told you about that too? It’s more of a street, really, with twelve Florida Cracker homes. Mac wants that area to be a nine-hole golf course with a clubhouse. It’s prime real estate, for sure. Higher ground, lots of trees.”

“But you want to restore the homes?” Jenny leaned in for his reply.

“Yes, get people living in them again. Progress is good until it rolls over history. They tried to demolish the Starlight skating rink in the eighties, but the town and a secret deed saved it.”

“Fascinating.” She headed to inspect the second floor, her high heels thunking against the old floorboards. “If you need money, let me know.”

Duly noted.

For the rest of the afternoon, his conversation with Jenny clung to him, offering hope and relief. There were good people in the world. Okay, maybe Mac Diamond wasn’t a bad dude so much as driven, ambitious, and callous toward the wants of others.

Swinging a hammer helped him process, along with hauling out large pieces of lumber to the dumpster.

Lost in the demoli tion of the old kitchen, Caleb finally noticed the bright afternoon hues had faded to gray.

What time was it, anyway? Six fifty-five.

He hollered good night to the foreman, then scrambled for his truck.

The Main Street meeting started at seven. He called Dad once he hit Sea Blue Way.

“Can you feed Bentley?”

“Already done. You got to get the rhythm of this parenting thing, son,” Dad said.

“I’m trying, but being a single parent is no joke.” Which made him think he should cut Cassidy some slack in that department.

At the Starlight Museum, he walked into the warm conversation of Adele, Mercy, Ivan, and Duke, along with the heady aroma of a chicken casserole. Dust fell from his jeans and shirt as he set his iPad on his chair.

“Sorry I’m late.” You could hear his stomach rumbling all the way to Tucson.

“Help yourself to a plate, Caleb,” Adele said. “It’s one of my signature recipes.”

“Adele, you don’t have to bring food to the meeting.” Which seemed hypocritical to say as he scooped out a large pile of steaming chicken in a creamy sauce, darn near weak with hunger. “But thank you.”

“She can’t help it, Caleb,” Ivan said. “It’s a disease with her. Got to feed and clothe everyone.”

“Just doing what the good Lord told me to do. You do know the good Lord, don’t you, Ivan?

Immanuel, God with us? He’s part of our town.

” She pointed to the replica image Immanuel.

Same as on the wall of the Starlight. “He wrote a whole big book for us to learn about Him and His love. But you got to read it if—”

“Adele, will you hush up?” Ivan squinted at her. “Pastor does all the preaching I need.”

“ Okay, let’s call this meeting to order.” Caleb shoved in a few bites, then washed it down with cold, sweet tea. Man, he’d died and gone to heaven. “Simon couldn’t make it tonight, so it’s just us.”

“Where’s that pretty reporter?” Ivan said. “She’s not really pretty, though. She’s more good-looking.”

Caleb choked down a swallow and glanced up from his iPad. “Have you been talking to my nephew?”

“What nephew?”

Right, Ivan didn’t know Bentley. Never mind.

“Y’all, the mural is amazing,” Mercy said with a satisfied sigh.

“Well done, us. Lulu is a genius. What a talent. Her portrayal of Malachi Nickle pulling Prince Blue off the beach?” She pressed her hand to her chest. “I’m moved every time I go by there.

And the image of Immanuel brings me to tears. I feel like He really is with us.”

“Fine and dandy,” Ivan said with a bit of a huff.

“But is it going to bring tourism to our end of town? If’n folks have a mind to drive over here from the West End, all they got to do is head down Sea Blue Way, oooh and ahhh at the mural, then circle up Rachel Kirby Lane and head right back to Sodom. ”

“Sodom. Come on, Ivan,” Duke said. “The West End is still our town, still Sea Blue Beach. Still part of Immanuel, God with us. If they’re Sodom, we’re Gomorrah.”

“Quite right, Duke,” Adele said, knitting needles clinking. “Such talk will further divide us. I’m one for all and all for one.”

“Folks, meet Nickle High’s head cheerleader, class of ’72. Rah, rah, rah, sis-boom-bah.” Ivan swung his arms about and kicked the air, which caused him to do something to his knee, making him jump up, moaning and groaning as he walked it off.

“Serves you right. Rah, rah, rah,” Adele said as she soberly continued knitting. “Sis-boom-bah.”

Caleb tried not to laugh, but he grinned wide enough. He didn’t w ant to encourage the Laurel and Hardy of the Main Street set too much.

“The new Victorian lamps are going in this week,” he said, “thanks to Mayor Caster and discretionary funds. I also found a company to make historical markers for Sea Blue Way, the prince’s home, and Alderman’s Pharmacy.

These are unofficial with regard to the state, just ones we want for our town.

Simon is working on the funds. He’s also done some research and is working on plans to make Doyle’s a craft beer brewery. ”

“That’ll get the younger set coming our way,” Ivan said, still tending his knee.

The door opened, and a gust of wind pushed Emery inside.

“Sorry I’m late, you guys.”

“We know, you got lost.” Ivan again.

“Actually, I didn’t, thank you.” She sat next to Caleb and stared at his near-empty plate. “What’d I miss?”

“Just Ivan hurting his knee,” Adele said. “Sis-boom-bah.”

“Never mind me.” Ivan huffed and crossed his arms. “How about that paper of yours? Missing more ads?”

“Ivan, come on...” Duke didn’t hide his frustration. “That’s not fair. The paper had missing ads before she got here.”

Ivan started pacing again and moaning over his knee. “Next agenda item. What are we going to do about fixing the street?”

“We may not have the budget for the bricks,” Caleb said. “But we can move forward with planters and banners.”

“We really need town money to work on some of the storefronts,” Duke said.

“I took a walk past the old haberdashery and Lloyd’s Hardware.

They both need major renovations. The bait-and-tackle shop turned yarn shop has been empty for years.

Marconi Jewelers, same thing, even though the vintage clothing shop tried to make a go of it. ”

“Are you still talking to West End leaders?” Caleb said.

“ Simon and I played golf with Alfred Gallagher, Bobby Brockton, and Denise Fletcher last Saturday. Denise wants to build a big pier, like in Santa Monica, with a Ferris wheel and everything. She thinks the perfect location is the Sands Motor Motel lot.”

“A Ferris wheel?” Emery tapped a note on her phone. “Caleb would love—” She turned to Duke. “Wait, what? Where the Sands is located? Why? It’s a lovely historical motor motel.”

Teach her to make fun of his Ferris wheel phobia. But she was right. The Sands must remain. What was wrong with those West Enders? He’d never even heard of Denise Fletcher. Duke said she owned a lucrative, boutique software company.

“I met my dear departed wife at the Sands Motor Motel,” Ivan said. “She was working as a maid one summer, down from Dothan. Besides, we got the Starlight. We don’t need no honking, ugly Ferris wheel like Santa Monica. The Starlight is the gem of this whole shoreline.”

“True, but how do we get people over here? How do we fix what’s falling apart?

” Mercy said. “I was looking into how we can advertise online and in larger metropolitan newspapers for small businesses to come to our side of town. Independent bookstores are starting to take hold. Even specialty shops, like Christmas decor, do well all year round. Pet daycares are popular now. Which would be lovely for those on vacation with a pet but want to take a day out to Crab Island or go out deep-sea fishing.”

“Adele, see what Mercy just done?” Ivan leaned over her shoulder. “She’s bringing good ideas. You’re just knitting and clicking.”

“Insults come from the small and insecure. Keep it up, Ivan, and I’ll carry you home in my pocket.”

Caleb laughed. He couldn’t help it. Adele had Ivan’s number. “Mercy,” he said, “you should be leading this project. Let’s talk l ater. Emery, a story in the Gazette about setting a business here might spark some ideas.”