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CALEB

On Friday afternoon, Caleb attended a Valparaiso Middle School assembly, where Bentley won a prize for math.

After posing for pictures, Caleb shot off a text to Cassidy, while Bentley celebrated with his growing crowd of friends. In the last six weeks, his confidence had skyrocketed. He laughed more easily. He’d also gained another five pounds.

Caleb:

Bentley won a math award.

Cassidy: . . .

After school, Caleb asked Bent if he wanted to FaceTime his mom.

“Nope,” he said as he set the award on his desk. “Can I go skating?”

“Sure, but come straight home after. Maybe we can watch a movie.” Caleb handed him a twenty for skate rentals and a trip to concession. “Hey, I’m proud of you. So are Grandma and Grandpa.”

“ I know.” Bentley dashed down the stairs and out of the house.

Caleb, Mom, and Dad weren’t the ones who mattered most. His mom mattered most.

You’re losing him , Cass.

Downstairs, past his unpacked boxes, he browsed the pantry, then the fridge for dinner options. He should make a grocery list and head to Biggs, stock up for next week.

Kicking out the kitchen table chair to sit, he texted Emery a picture of a beaming Bentley accepting his award. She answered immediately.

Emery:

Way to go Bentley!!!!!!! I’m taking him for ice cream.

Caleb:

Can his uncle tag along?

Emery:

Maybe. ;P

Last night, listening to each other’s stories, sharing heart-to-heart at the Blue Plate, then walking home on a cold, misty night through the muted light ... he knew he was falling for her. Flat-out. Even a nob like him could see the romance of it all.

In the meantime, he had some work to do.

The Swansons called, wanted to move forward with their Lake Lorraine house.

Again. Those Yankees from Minnesota, the ?sters, who ghosted him about a home at Preserve on the Bay, also called, apologizing, saying they were ready to get started on their design.

The husband deposited a large retainer in Caleb’s account.

Caleb thought he’d drive over to the Preserve on Monday for inspiration, talk to a few contractors.

Simon had also paid for the Doyle transformation—from m echanic’s garage to hip craft beer brewery. Caleb had worked on a similar project in Seattle, so he felt confident knocking out the initial design by the end of the week.

What about the Org. Homestead? Simon continued to work things from his mayoral office. Caleb had half a mind to email Jenny Finch, see if she was serious about investing.

Finished with his bowl of cereal, Caleb headed to his office and caught up on email. He had several from Mercy about the street party idea and how to bring in new business.

Current businesses are up for a street party.

We’ll put high-top spool tables down the center of Sea Blue Way for folks to use after they’ve gone into a place for food and drink.

The Vine & Barrel will do a wine and cheese tasting.

The band that plays weekends at the Fish Hook (can’t remember their name) will play in front of Doyle’s.

Let’s think of ways to keep the crowd circulating. More details at our next meeting.

Nicely done, Mercy. She’d put her experience as a former high school principal to work.

He also had a surprising email from Bobby Brockton, inviting him to speak at the Chamber of Commerce luncheon Sunday. “I know it’s last minute , but our speaker dropped out. We’d love to hear your experience in Seattle.”

The speaker dropped out? Sure he did. This was more of Mac Diamond Mr. Pottering people.

But Caleb liked a challenge and accepted the invitation.

He’d use the opportunity to address East End issues and maybe touch on Sea Blue Beach politics.

The luncheon was at the West End’s fine dining restaurant, the Skylight, a beautiful structure with part of the dining room extending over the water.

Caleb returned to the kitchen for more cereal, dumping in a handful of blueberries to negate the bad carbs and bad sugar, then headed back to his desk to see Mac Diamond had slid into his inbox.

Caleb,

Diamond Dogs Inc. is in talks with a developer in West Palm. We’d love to bring you on board as our in-house architect. Your reclaimed and sustainable materials design is striking a chord with people.

Having you on board will enhance our projects and productivity. You’d be free, of course, to pursue Ransom Architecture jobs as well. Diamond Dogs is open to salary negotiations to suit your skill and experience.

Best, Mac

Caleb shoved away from his desk. Really? Really? What a manipulative, brazen move.

Even worse, Caleb wanted to consider it. It was an amazing offer. It’d set him up for the next ten-plus years of his career. Ransom Architecture would become a name.

But it was from Mac Diamond, who had an agenda to destroy the part of the town Caleb loved.

EMERY

The Sunday Gazette printed with every ad in place. Such a relief. She’d barely slept last night, waking up every hour, ready to run to the office alongside the paperboys.

She hugged Owen when she saw today’s beautiful, perfect edition. Too wired to go back to her cottage at the Sands, she p opped into One More Cup for a latte and a hot cinnamon scone, then pored over the paper.

The headline was still the Main Street initiatives.

Jane wrote a piece on tourism numbers if the East End added businesses.

Rex’s new piece on young golfers naming Sea Blue Beach’s West End as their training home would probably add fuel to Mac Diamond’s case against the Org.

Homestead. But there was nothing to do about it.

The Gazette belonged to the town and the truth.

For this edition, Emery published an article from the archives. In 1939, Earl and Inez Van Horn and Heddy Stenuf, famous roller skaters, put on a show at the Starlight. That same year, members of the Dixie Mafia vacationed at the Sands Motor Motel for a week.

“I think you’re doing a good thing.” Lupe, One More Cup’s owner, set another latte in front of her. “On the house.”

“Do you really think this little paper is making a difference?”

“I do. Even with missing ads.” She sat across from Emery.

“My grandparents came to Sea Blue Beach from Mexico in the late fifties. They started a trucking business and never looked back. They’re gone now, and my parents moved to New Orleans for my dad’s career.

I came back as soon as I could. Met my husband here. ”

“Sea Blue Beach is a romantic town, isn’t it?”

Lupe sighed with contentment. “How could it not be? Immanuel lives here.”

“Immanuel,” Emery repeated softly. “God with us, right?” She’d never experienced any sort of God or supernatural moment, but as a journalist, she’d learned to listen as much as to question. What were people saying between the words?

Lupe went back to work, and Emery made a note to get her family’s story for the paper, then headed back to the Gazette o ffice before Lupe offered her another latte. It was very generous, but after two rounds, Emery was wired.

At her desk, she made a list of things for the coming week. Ramp up online presence. Talk to Elliot ( again ) about an ad director. Create a student section ( ??? ) from high school/middle school. Story on Org. Homestead. Pics of Alderman’s refurbishments and reinvention of Doyle’s.

She glanced at her phone when it pinged. Ava had texted the QuinnFam.

Ava:

Wish you were here for the shower, Em. But I understand.

Elianna:

I’ll send pictures of everything, especially when she opens your present.

Emery:

I know it will be a lovely day, Ava. Thanks, Ellie.

She’d barely remembered to send a gift. Dad reminded her late last week, sending a link to Ava’s registry. She bought three since she didn’t have the expense of an airline ticket.

Blakely:

Em, can I come for spring break?

Joanna:

Blake, by yourself? What happened to Mad River Mountain with Sadie’s family?

Blakely:

The usual drama. Sadie and Lucy had a fight, and Lucy said she wasn’t going, which means Joely won’t go. I’d rather go to the beach!

E mery:

Sure, Blake. If skiing doesn’t work out.

She read the text thread again, kind of wishing she’d made time to go to the shower. Rex could’ve handled things at the Gazette . After Ava’s visit, being a part of the Quinn sisterhood was beginning to matter.

She felt lighter and brighter about things after telling Caleb the rest of the story and closing the gap on their shared past.

Joanna:

Miss you, Em. Xo.

Emery:

Miss you all too.

Dad:

I like this spring break idea. Maybe we’ll all go.

The flurry of texts following proved that the Quinn family was much too busy for a spontaneous vacation. Sophisticated Sips had a full calendar through the spring, never mind all the wedding planning.

Dad:

Okay, I give. Maybe in the fall.

Setting down her phone, Emery gazed out the window, full of thought and sentiment. Maybe this Quinn family venture was more beautiful than she’d allowed.

The rest of the day was too beautiful to stay inside. She texted Caleb to see if he wanted to ride bikes, then headed out, running into Tobias as he came in to clean. In his mid-fifties, he was stout and jolly, with a fisherman’s tan.

“You’re here on a Sunday?” she said.

“The fish were running yesterday. Had to take the boat out. I’m g oing to give the floors a good buffing.

” He was always buffing that floor. “You have to take care of terrazzo. But, Miss Emery, I got to tell you, if I run the sweeper over the newsroom carpet much more, the thing will shred completely.”

“Be gentle with her.” Emery patted his arm. “And next time, bring me some fish.”

“Will do, Miss Em. Rats, I wish I’d known you liked seafood.”

She’d just arrived at the Sands when her phone rang. Expecting to see Caleb’s number, she stopped in the shade of Cottage 7 to see Unknown on the screen.

To answer or not to answer ... that was always the question. She answered.

“Emery Quinn?” The masculine voice was elegant, bent with an aristocratic accent.

“Speaking.” She shivered as if something grand was happening.

“This is Sted from the House of Blue Chamber Office. The royal family is delighted to accept your invitation to visit Sea Blue Beach. His Royal Highness Crown Prince John and Her Royal Highness Princess Gemma are available Friday evening, April twenty-fifth, and Saturday, the twenty-sixth, until four p.m. Will that work for you?”

Okay, this was a grand prank. “Rex, come on, is this you?” Emery made a face at her reflection in the dark window of her cottage.

“Pardon me? Hello? Miss Emery Quinn?”

“Speaking.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“I did. His Royal Highness Crown Prince John and Her Royal Highness Princess Gemma were available to visit Sea Blue Beach.” She gazed around to ensure she was alone and not being punked. Never mind that she’d told no one about her royal request.

“ Indeed I did. Were you serious about a royal visit to Sea Blue Beach? If not, I’ll—”

“Yes, yes, I’m serious. You received my email? You’re really calling from the House of Blue Chamber Office?”

“Yes, ma’am. April twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth are open on their royal highnesses’ diary. If you confirm, we’ll commence with the details. For security reasons, I’m texting you a code with instructions for a private email server.”

Her email. It worked. “Thank you, thank you so much. Please thank the royal family.”

“Excellent. Look for more information this afternoon. I’d like a call this Wednesday at ten a.m. Eastern Standard Time to begin preparations. We don’t have much time to get it all organized. Does that work for you?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” She was shaking, listening, memorizing everything the man said. “Wednesday at ten.” When she hung up, she stood there, stunned and ... more stunned.

The royal family was coming to Sea Blue Beach. This would change everything.