Page 7

CALEB

“Knock, knock.” He peeked around the door of Emery’s office where sunlight covered the southern window, the floor, and her desk, even catching the highlights in her hair.

“Rex escorted me in, said you were staring at the wall.” Caleb held up the One More Cup caddy he carried.

“Lattes. Please tell me you’re a coffee drinker. ”

She leaned toward the open door. “Rex, you’re fired.” Then she reached for the coffee. “Thank you, I drink this by gallon.” When she smiled, he had that I-just-won-the-lottery feeling. “How’d your meeting go with that lady? Jenny something? She seemed like a force to be reckoned with.”

“Jenny Finch knows her own mind, which makes my job easier.” Caleb sat in the chair across from her desk.

“Alderman’s went on the block a few years ago when there was no one left in the family to take care of it.

Jenny launched a website selling high-end clothing, and it’s so successful her accountant told her to lose some money before the government took it all.

She loves historic preservation, found Alderman’s, and bought it with the intention to preserve its historic significance.

It’s hard for a pharmacy to compete with the chain stores on the West End, so she’ll reopen it as a lunch counter.

These days it seems the only thriving businesses on the East End involve food. ”

“And roller-skating. The Sands seems to be busy. I’ve only been here a week, but all the cottages are booked.”

“Delilah has her regulars. The same with the Starlight. Sometimes I think the Starlight, the Sands, the Blue Plate Diner, and Gazette are the only things holding all of Sea Blue Beach together. They remind us of who we used to be, maybe who we’re supposed to be.

” Caleb raised his coffee cup. “Look at me waxing sentimental.”

Even more, pouring out his thoughts to Emery as if he’d seen her every day for the past decade and a half. He’d only known her seven short weeks, really six if he thought about it, when they were sixteen.

“So why are you staring at the wall?” he asked, reigning in his thoughts. “And are you really firing Rex?”

“Wouldn’t dare. The dude runs this place. I don’t know why Elliot didn’t hire him. I think he didn’t want it.”

Caleb wanted to say I’m glad he didn’t but thought it sounded too ... something. Like not what a man says to a woman who walked back into his life after a long absence. “And the wall?”

“I was just remembering things.” Emery lowered her gaze to her coffee cup. “I reread my Sunday editorial and it sounds like I was trying too hard.”

“Not at all. It was a good piece. To the point. A nice introduction.”

“The emails don’t think so. People want to know why Elliot didn’t hire a local, someone who knows the town. A few said we don’t even need the Gazette , that it’s a rag with occasionally large holes where ads were supposed to be. And one email, all caps, ‘THE WRITING STINKS!’”

“People can be rude, Emery. Don’t think those voices represent Sea Blue Beach.”

“I reported hard news in Cleveland for the Free Voice . The founder, and my mentor, Lou Lennon, was a stir stick for controversy. I cut my teeth on people hating my stories—or rather, the Free Voice stories. But this, I don’t know, feels personal.

It shouldn’t. It’s just—” She stared out the window as if the rest of her thought might walk by.

“I had this idea in my head about coming here. It’s stupid—”

She glanced over at him, eyes glistening. That’s when he realized coming here was more than a job. It was about her mom.

He sipped his coffee to give her a moment.

After a second sip and more silence, he said, “Anyway, I came by to say hi, bring you the best coffee in town—but don’t tell Paige at the Blue Plate I said that—and to say I’m glad you’re here.

” He stood and took a step toward the door.

“Also, I wondered if you’d like to go to lunch with a handsome, albeit at loose ends, architect.

Of course, handsome is only an opinion. Feel free to fill in your own adjective. ”

He was trying to be funny. But he sounded a little pathetic.

Until Emery smiled. “Handsome will do. And it’s good to see you. You’re my only friend in Sea Blue Beach.”

“You have Shift and Jumbo and—”

“They’re still around?”

“Living and working in the West End, the traitors. But yeah, they’re around. I know they’ll never forget the Queen of Operation Revenge.”

“Oh my gosh. I forgot about her.”

“How could you forget? She was iconic. Made that whole summer special.” Reminiscing about that summer wasn’t easy for Caleb.

It took him back to the pain of Cassidy.

But seeing Emery reminded him he’d also fallen a little bit in love.

“So lunch? One o’clock? Food truck or Blue Plate?

One More Cup has great sandwiches.. .”

“I’d love to, but—” She looked at the stack of bound papers on her desk. “I have a lot of work to do. I don’t have an advertising director, so I’m wearing that hat for now, and I loathe the schmoozing required for ad sales. I’m also head of human resources and a beat reporter.”

“You need a hat rack,” Caleb said. “I’m not a newspaperman, but I handled the finances for my Seattle firm when we started out. If you need any help—”

“Call someone else?”

“Exactly. You read my mind, Quinn.”

“Hashtag don’t call me,” she said

“Hashtag I’ll call you.”

“Hashtag we sound so 2018.” Emery laughed.

“Hashtag so about lunch . . .”

Caleb paused to check his ringing phone. The caller wasn’t in his contacts, so he sent it to voicemail. Three seconds later, it rang again. Same number. When he answered, it was the principal’s office at Valparaiso Middle School, asking him to come as soon as possible.

“Emery, sorry, I have to go. My nephew is in the principal’s office.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Don’t know. Can I call you later?”

“Of course.” She waved him out the door. “Go. Good luck.”

Caleb had walked from his house to One More Cup, then to the Gazette office, so he didn’t bother going home for his truck. The middle school was only a half mile, if that, from the middle of downtown. With a quick jog under scattered clouds, he’d be there in five minutes.

He was still catching his breath when he walked into the principal’s office. “Caleb Ransom for—” The receptionist pointed to the closed door marked Principal Tucker .

Okay, guess he was going on in, see what he would see. Bentley sat across from the principal, head bowed, his thick towhead hair matted with sweat, his cheeks caked in mud, blood, and tears.

“Hey, buddy.” Caleb knelt in front of him. “What’s up?”

Bentley tumbled into his arms, clinging to him as Caleb dropped to the floor. Trembling and sobbing, he soaked Caleb’s shirt with tears.

“Shhh, it’s all right.” Caleb held him tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. Come on, take a breath. Everything will be all right.”

When he’d calmed down, Caleb moved him back to the chair and accepted a box of tissues from Mr. Tucker.

Bentley wiped his nose and face, muttering. “Mom says boys don’t cry.”

“Really? Is your mom a boy?” Bentley’s green eyes widened as he shook his head. “Listen to me, I’m a man, and you can cry anytime you want. Just don’t let your emotions steer the ship.”

Bentley’s shoulders relaxed, and he finally looked Caleb in the eye. “I’m sorry, Uncle Caleb.”

“Bentley,” Tucker said. “Why don’t you go clean up and get some water. Then come back.”

When he’d gone, Caleb faced the principal. “What happened? He’s only been in school a day and a half.”

“Your nephew is having trouble adjusting.”

“Define trouble .”

“Did you know this was his fifth school in two years?” Tucker said.

“I knew it’d been more than two. But five? Wow. Okay. My sister is a bit of a nomad.”

“I remember Cassidy. She was a bright student. I wasn’t the principal in her day, but I had her for math class. So, what’s the story with Bentley? He said he’s living with you.”

“My sister has a new boyfriend who doesn’t like kids. She asked me to take Bentley for the rest of the school year. We enrolled him last Friday.”

That’d been a weird day. Coming down to the school with Cassidy, being listed as Bentley’s guardian, the one to call in emergency.

They had lunch at a food truck afterward, set up Bentley in the bedroom next to Caleb’s, then Cassidy drove off, smiling.

Not a care in the world. But Caleb felt every one of them. He wondered if Bentley did too.

“So, who started it? Bentley or the other guy?”

“Bentley, I’m afraid. He took offense at something. I’m still trying to figure out what exactly happened, but the other boys involved—”

“Boys?”

“Two. Seventh graders, good students, leaders for the most part. But they’re also a bit of a clique with some other kids.

Look, if Bentley apologizes and promises no more fighting, I’ll let this one slide.

I’ve talked to the boys’ parents, and they are willing to let it go if this is a one-and-done. ”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll talk to him. Mr. Tucker, he’s a good kid.”

“I can see that, Caleb, but he’s also hurting and confused.”

Caleb should’ve suspected something brewing beneath the surface.

Bentley seemed fine with everything, even chipper, over the weekend.

He talked nonstop as he moved into his room.

He ran back and forth between his grandparents’ place and home.

Went to church with them Sunday while Caleb slept in. Not once did he speak of his mom.

Bentley returned to the office with a clean face, hair slicked into place, holding a bottle of water. Mr. Tucker informed him of his consequence. Bentley agreed to apologize and never fight again.

Caleb waited with him while the other boys were summoned. They were a good three inches taller and fifteen pounds heavier.