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Grabbing a sandwich, Caleb spent the afternoon researching Florida’s Main Street initiatives, made a few calls to neighboring Main Street cities, then scanned the Org. Homestead drawings into his Revit system. He appreciated the historical drawings, but he’d work on updates the modern way.

When the afternoon sunlight faded from his office windows, he packed up to meet Jenny Finch at Alderman’s. She’d flown in from Miami to go over his proposal..

He’d just gotten into his truck when Mom called.

“You busy?” she said, rushed and stern, intoning the voice of her boss, a West End lawyer. She claimed it got clients to take her seriously.

“Heading out to meet the woman who’s restoring Alderman’s.”

“Can you come to the house?”

“Sure, after I meet Jenny.” Caleb climbed behind the wheel. “Want me to pick up Tony’s Pizza or—”

“No, come now.”

Caleb heard Dad talking with someone in the background. “I’ve got a meeting, Mom. What’s going on?”

It wasn’t like either of them to be home at four forty-five in the afternoon. Dad’s job as a logistics supervisor for an outfit that shipped products all over the world required long hours. Mom often worked overtime. She called it vacation money.

“You’ll understand when you get here.”

Caleb glanced through the truck’s windshield toward his parents’ backyard. He couldn’t make out much through the ancient shady oak, but he could see Mom pacing past the kitchen window.

He left his driveway to park at the side of the house and entered through the kitchen. Was Mom’s cancer back? It’d been a bit more than a little thing. After surgery to remove her thyroid, and a round of radiation, Mom had been declared cancer free but . . .

“Mom? Dad?” Caleb shot Jenny a quick text that he was on his way as he walked into the living room. “What’s so urgent?”

“Uncle Caleb.” His eleven-year-old nephew Bentley flew across the room.

“Hey, buddy, what are you doing here?” Caleb hoisted him up for a big, I-missed-you hug.

“Mom said I could stay with you. Can I?”

“Your mom said what?”

“Hey, little brother.” Cassidy emerged from the powder room, drying her hands down the side of her shredded jeans. “Miss me?” She wore a tight T-shirt under a beaded, fringe vest, and feathers in her braided wavy blond hair. She looked like Jenny from Forrest Gump .

Speaking of Jenny ... He looked to see if his client had texted him back.

“Cass, what are you doing here?” Caleb asked.

Mom tugged Bentley toward the kitchen promising milk and molasses cookies. Dad situated himself between Caleb and Cassidy in his BarcaLounger. “What’s this about Bentley staying with me?”

His big sister by eleven and a half months made him restless. Made him want to yell. Scream. Say things he’d regret. No matter how much time had passed or how she claimed to have changed—very little—he could not, would not trust her.

“It’s good to see you too.” She plopped down on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. “Come, sit. Let’s catch up.”

“I’d love to, but I’m late for a meeting.” Classic Cassidy. Shows up and interrupts. “Why does Bent think he’s living with me?”

“Will you please sit down?” Cassidy slapped the cushion. “I don’t want to talk looking up to you. I promise I’ll be done in time for your precious meeting.”

“I’m already late.”

“Give her sixty seconds.” Dad tipped his head toward the couch. “I’ll watch the time for you.”

“Thanks, Daddy. Glad to know you’re on my side.

” Cassidy spoke fluent sarcasm. “Okay, Caleb.” She perched on the edge of the cushion.

“Things are going great for me. My Etsy store is killing it. I’m selling these beaded vests and these feathers”—she pointed to the black one in her hair—“like crazy. I’m starting to sell some of my art too.

And I’ve met someone.” She flashed her winning smile.

The one Dad and Mom bought with two years of braces.

“He’s amazing. Arturo Mooney. He runs a trucking company in Louisiana, and he’s got this great big house on the bayou with a pool and big, modern kitchen, five bedrooms, four baths, a media room. Wait till you see it.”

“Sounds like Bentley would love to live there.”

“See, that’s the thing.” Cassidy lowered her voice and inched closer to Caleb. “Arturo’s not big into kids. He’s never had any of his own, so it’s—”

“But you do, Cass. Why are you with a guy who doesn’t like kids?”

“I never said he doesn’t like kids. I said he’s not into them.” Cassidy squeezed his arm. “I need some time for him to get used to the idea. We also need time for us as a couple, you know, to get used to living together and all.”

“Any marriage plans?” Dad said. “Any thought to letting us meet him before you move in?”

Cassidy had never introduced the family to her boyfriends. They’d never been to any of the places she’d lived. They’d never met Bentley’s father.

“Dad, this is my life and my decision. I don’t need you to meet him.

But for your information, yes, there are plans to marry.

Eventually.” She turned back to Caleb. “I’d like Bentley to live with you.

Please? Wouldn’t it be cool for him to attend Valparaiso Middle School like we did?

You really want that big ol’ house all to yourself? ”

“It’s a dollhouse compared to what you described. Are you saying you want me to keep Bentley for the rest of middle school?” At eleven, he was a young sixth grader with two and a half more years ahead of him.

“What? No. Maybe. At least for the rest of this school year.” Cassidy smiled as Bentley came in the room, offering everyone a cookie. When he begged Grandpa to play the old Wii system in the upstairs library, Dad stood and called time for Caleb. “It’s actually been two minutes.”

Now he was really late. Caleb scooted closer to Cassidy and leaned in. “What are you doing? You wreck our family, and now you want to wreck Bentley? Dropping him off to live with his single uncle while you shack up with God-knows-who?”

“Wreck the family ... ha! Judgmental much? I thought you’d have grown up living in Seattle, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Don’t make this about me. This is all you.”

“Are you ever going to let go of what happened back then? Huh? I’ve raised a pretty darn good kid on my own and—”

“That kid is a testament to his own tenacity and spirit. And Mom’s prayers. Now, I have to go. I can’t lose this commission.”

“All right, look. I know things haven’t been easy between us.

Y’all didn’t even tell me about Mom’s cancer.

But I’m asking this one little favor. I’ve stopped drinking, stopped getting high.

Arturo is good for me. He wants to help me with my business.

I know he loves me, and he’s going to love Bentley.

” Caleb detected just enough sincerity in her voice.

“I can’t leave Bentley with Mom. She doesn’t look like she has the energy for an eleven-year-old boy.

Besides, you remember what it was like growing up here. I didn’t like it, so why—”

“I did.”

“—would I subject Bentley to it?”

Caleb scoffed. “Really? You loved living here until you went rogue. All of our friends wanted to live here.” He glanced at his phone. Jenny had texted a question mark, followed by Did I get the time wrong?

“I have to go.” He faced his sister. “If I take him, it’s on my terms. I get him for the rest of the school year. I’ll determine his spring break and his routine. You can’t just come in here and yank him out for some wild adventure you saw on TikTok.”

Cassidy’s expression darkened, but she held her rebuff. “Fine. For the school year.” She relaxed into a smile. “We packed a couple of suitcases, so he’s set for a few weeks. I’ll send the rest of his things when I get home. And some money.”

“Just send his things. I’ll take care of the rest. Now I really do have to go.”

On the short drive down Sea Blue Way to Alderman’s Pharmacy, Caleb wrestled with those not-so-buried, not-so-decayed memories and emotions from his teens.

She’d been bouncing in and out of their parents’ life for sixteen years. She’d even showed up in Seattle once. She’d determined that the family owed her something beyond their love and support. None of which she returned.

But Bentley? Caleb loved that kid. The first time he held him in his arms, he knew he’d give his life for him. Today, Cassidy tugged on that secret pledge. Today, Caleb kept his word.

Mom. The Org. Homestead. Bentley. Maybe all of them combined made up why he returned to Sea Blue Beach.

THE GAZETTE

Telling Stories from the Sands of Sea Blue Beach

Established 1902

Gazette Editorial

Sunday January 5th

By Elliot Kirby

I grew up running around these shores when my family visited my aunt and uncle, Alvin and Rachel Kirby. Every summer, Uncle Alvin took us to the printing plant to watch a press run of Aunt Rachel’s beloved Gazette .

Every summer, we spent days in the newsroom, watching a true newswoman in action. There was always the thrill of telling a story under deadline. In many ways, the Gazette is a citizen of Sea Blue Beach.

Aunt Rachel hoped my sister or I would take her place as editor-in-chief one day. But life had other plans for us.

Yet our affection and belief in this newspaper remains unwavering. Since Aunt Rachel’s death two years ago, we’ve made every effort to keep the paper going. Uncle Alvin’s printing plant sold years ago, and the Gazette moved production to Panama City.

Keeping a print paper alive in the internet age has not been easy. Many small-town newspapers have not survived. For the Gazette , we reduced our print days to Sunday and Wednesday.

Yet Sea Blue Beach remains special because you all love print news. The Kirby family remains committed to the stories of Sea Blue Beach. In that vein, please welcome our new editor-in-chief, Emery Quinn.

A native of Ohio and graduate of Ohio State University’s School of Journalism, she spent eight years on staff at the Cleveland Free Voice , eventually rising to the title of associate editor-in-chief.

We have every confidence in her abilities to take the Gazette into the next decade as a microlocal news source. Please give her a warm SBB welcome.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Re: New editor

How can someone who didn’t grow up here love the Gazette and our town as much as one of us?

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Re: New editor

Welcome, Emery Quinn. I think you’ll bring a fresh perspective.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Re: New editor

I don’t care who is editor. Are y’all going to fix the missing ad problem?