A Shore Thing (14 page)

Things were flying out of hand. Somehow I needed to grab hold of the string. “Friends, please, wait. Let’s not get too upset with June and Tim.” I paused and pressed my lips together. “Sometimes things happen for a reason.”

There. Diplomacy. Didn’t have a whole lot of experience with it, but I was trying.

“So you’re defending them?” Oscar, one of our local fishermen, spoke up. “We’ve got to be respectful of that area, Callie. The otters are coming back, but what’s going to happen to them once the area begins to erode from overbuilding?” He shook his head, rattling the wire hooks hanging from his hat. “I can tell you that the quality of fish around here has already gone down from all the pollution that comes from dirty runoff. It’s bad, Callie, really bad.”

He was right. Yet somehow we had to strike a balance here. How in the world could I get them all to see?

Steph, our town librarian, raised her hand. “Callie, I sympathize with the Kitteridges. I thought they would never shut down their store, but when they did and the rumors about their money problems surfaced, well, I became very worried for them.”

Ruth cocked an eyebrow. “What sort of money problems? That ol’ dog Tim do some risky investments or something?”

I shoved my flexed palms toward the crowd. “Listen. Rather than speculate on all that . . .” Rumors had been flying for months about the Kitteridge’s financial health, but it was not my place to give the specifics. I inhaled through my nose and put on a happy face. “I suggest we try something amazing and unchartered for this area. Please, hear me out.”

Ruth stood and began shushing everyone, repeatedly flapping her right hand downward. Eliot crouched and snapped a picture of me from an unflattering angle. Holly breezed in to set coffee pots within arm’s reach.

As the crowd grew quiet, my heart swelled with excitement. If we pulled this off, we might just have a win-win situation at our feet. I drew in a confident breath. “Okay, everyone, here’s what I propose.”

GAGE

“WHAT IS IT?” SUZ stood alongside Gage as he peered at an oversized document on his drawing board in the morning light.

“It’s the survey I’ve been waiting for.”

She bent over the document. “You, big brother, must be really smart because this thing looks like hieroglyphics to me. What are all the swirls and numbers about?”

Gage smoothed back the curled page. “They’re all necessary parts of the survey, Suz. Actually, this one is actually more like a map showing natural and man-made features of the project site. It also provides exact height in feet above sea level. So what we have before us is a topographical map that encompasses all the open property at the Kitteridge property.”

She eyed him. “So this will help you get going on your plan, then.”

“Right.” Gage studied the survey while making mental notes for later. “It will help me lay out drainage patterns and slopes and vegetation, things like that. Then I’ll use it as an underlay beneath my own site plan.”

“So exciting, isn’t it?”

Gage looked away from his work and met his sister’s gaze. Although in the midst of personal troubles, she didn’t show it. She seemed downright happy to be carried along for the ride on this project. “You’re right, it is. Some people like to drive around showing off the properties that they’ve built; and while I don’t have a problem with that, per se, I’d say that this is the thrilling part for me.”

“The journey.”

He swallowed, noticing a tinge of sorrow pass across her face before her smile returned. “Yeah, the journey.”

Suz straightened and smoothed away the crease in her skirt. “Then get to it.”

After she left, he reached for his coffee mug only to realize it had been drained. No matter. A hot-off-the-press survey gave more of an adrenaline boost than caffeine did anyway.

“I forgot to bring these in earlier.” Suz dropped a couple of local newspapers on Gage’s desk. She also had a coffee pot with her and filled his empty mug.

“Bless you.”

She laughed. A headline caught his attention and wiped the smile off his face.

SAVE OUR SHORES:

SOS GROUP AIMS TO OUST UNWELCOME DEVELOPMENT

Gage ignored his coffee as he opted for the morning news instead.

Callie Duflay, president of Save Our Shores, has a message for waterfront developers: You’re not welcome in these parts. The riveting blonde and her mighty band of angry residents met last night at the Red Abalone Grill. Aside from drinking enough coffee to finance a third-world nation, their mission was simple—fight a project planned for the popular open land known as the Kitteridge property.

Gage set the paper down. The article’s cheese factor aside, this was bad news on any day. He glanced at the survey on his desk. Especially today. His eyes followed the text to the bottom of the page, then he obeyed the directions and turned to page four.

Speaking on the condition of anonymity, an aide to one of the town council members had this warning for SOS, “It would behoove Miss Duflay to stay out of the way of progress. The council is comprised of upstanding citizens within our own community, and I assure you, they all have the best interests of Otter Bay at heart.”

Yes, sure, that would make her run away, cowering. He read on, noting the brief profile written about Callie and highlighting her many humanitarian efforts. Apparently she even sponsored children in other countries. He grunted and skipped to the last paragraph.

Only time will tell if SOS will heed such advice. As of now, the group is moving forward with a plan to buy the property from under the developers. They are about to embark on an aggressive fund-raising campaign, one that will help them achieve their goal of making the Kitteridge property open to the community—forever.

Gage crumpled the newsprint with one hand. This must have been the “thing” she had to get to last night. She hadn’t let on either. No, not a word about her plans to him—even after he saved her dog from certain danger. He reached for the warm coffee and took a bitter sip. Maybe if he had not chased that animal home, she would not have made it to her little gathering in the first place.

“What’s got you?” Suz wore concern on her face. “Two minutes ago you were like a giddy eight-year-old, but now your upper lip is all twisted up.”

“Bad news about the Kitteridge property.”

“What? Already? You were just telling me . . .”

He pressed his thumbs to his temples and raked his fingers through his hair noting how much he needed a haircut. He motioned to the newspaper. “That woman you met at the paint store—Callie—remember her? She’s heading up some group that’s trying to thwart the project.”

Suz’s forehead crinkled. “Let me see that.” She smoothed the paper and her eyes tracked the article. Gage tried to interject a comment, but each time she would stop him with a flick of her forefinger and a “shush.” She made it to the end, inhaled, then handed the paper back. “I don’t know much, but if there’s one thing I do understand it’s that people are broke and you can’t squeeze money out of a dried up turnip. I think she’s bluffing. There’s no way this small town can come up with that kind of money that fast. Take it from one who knows, money’s hard to get and even harder to raise from others.”

He glanced at his sister. She wore her life lessons with fierceness, and for once in a long while he recognized her for the strong woman she had become. “So I should just forget about it, then? Is that your advice?”

She shrugged. “Of course not. When this thing crumbles, Callie’s going to need some broad shoulders to lean on, and you’ll be there.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely am. Dead-on serious, big brother.”

He sputtered. He had no idea if he’d ever be able to say two words to the woman after this, let alone be a source of support. “That woman is a thorn in my side, or haven’t you noticed?”

Suz laughed. “She keeps you alert. That’s good.”

“Or exposes my need for a tetanus shot!” He tossed the paper into the waste can.

His sister sighed. “Don’t you get it? You need to get that girl on your side. Listen to her concerns, open the communication between you two, and when things fall apart, she won’t see you as the enemy anymore.”

“Oh, really. She’ll just see me as the great guy that I am.” He smirked, followed by a sigh. “And why would I even want to do this, Suz? Why should I care?”

Suz’s gaze slid downward. “I missed out on the perfect guy, Gage. All because I was afraid of a little work. Good relationships take work, but I wanted things easy. Seth asked me to move across the country with him as he searched out a new life.” She wrinkled her nose, pausing. “But I wanted to stick around with my friends and keep hanging out on Saturday nights. I wanted all the trinkets that money could buy, but I didn’t want to wait around for Seth to find the perfect job and to build up his savings. So I let him go.” Tears spiked her lashes. “When Len showed up and said all the right things—bought all the right things—I made a hasty, shallow decision and married him. And you know what’s funny?”

He couldn’t imagine.

“I ended up moving all the way across country anyway.” The smile on her face didn’t reach her eyes. “Isn’t that a riot?”

Gage reached for her hand. “You’ve got Jer.”

Suz sniffed and wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. “That’s right. God’s way of reminding me there is always a silver lining.” Her eyes connected with Gage’s. “I can’t say if Callie’s the one for you, Gage. But I do know that you’ve run into her more than once lately, and every time you do you come back looking like some lost puppy.”

“You been spying on me?”

“It’s a small town.” She nudged him before slowly making her way to the office door. “So why don’t you give her a call?”

Gage sat in the silence, thinking on the advice Suz had offered. It sounded crazy, ludicrous.

He picked up the phone and dialed.

Chapter Fifteen

“Greetings, Madam President!” Tidal Wave plopped a soggy triangle of pizza onto a flimsy plate and pushed it toward me.

Starved, I picked up the plate. Grease slid across my palm. “Really, TW, you can just call me President Callie.”

“Hee, hee.” Tidal Wave’s chin bounced when he laughed, forcing evening stubble through the folds. “Saw your picture in the paper.”

I nodded. Those were the same words Gage used when he surprised me with a phone call today. I had no idea just how many people in town kept up with the local news. By the number of times I’d been stopped on my walks, you’d think it was everyone. “That was me. Could’ve been a better angle, don’t you agree?”

He blushed and kept his focus on slicing the monstrous pizza before him. “I cut it out and put it on my fridge.”

I punched his solid shoulder. “Oh, you did not!”

He looked at me stunned, eyes wide, unsmiling mouth. My gut felt hollow. Did Tidal Wave have a little crush? A pause, and then he roared, a garble of laughter falling from him. “Just having some fun with you.”

His was no longer the only red face in the room. I directed the most even look into his eyes; the most serious tone into my voice that I could muster. “I’ll have a second piece.”

His eyebrows shot up and he hesitated and bit his lip before quickly scooping up another drippy slice and plopping it onto my plate. “Yes, ma’am.”

He didn’t see the sly smile on my face as I walked away and headed to Squid and a gathering of board members at a nearby table.

“Hello, Callie.” Natalia had shed her woman-in-the-boardroom look for more casual low heels, capris, and a button-down blouse. “I’ve been reading about you. You have been a busy lady.”

My mind hesitated. Did I need more opposition in my life? True she appeared welcoming, but then again, Gage sounded congenial on the phone today too. Suspicion rose in me then, and it reared itself again now. While I wished to find another table, I relented and took a seat across from Natalia. “It’s been a whirlwind already. So far, there’s been positive support in the community.”

“But will that support translate into dollars?”

“I’m hopeful that it will. One of our SOS team members set up that Web page mentioned in the article, and already several thousand dollars in pledges have come in.”

“Impressive!” She tasted a bite of the salad in front of her, obviously brought in from the outside, and then set down her fork before turning to Squid. “Maybe Callie should become part of our fund-raising team here at camp. We could use someone with fund-raising knowledge on future campaigns.”

Squid downed a cola and shrugged. He glanced my way. “Yeah. Maybe.”

I smiled. If she wanted to pump me up in front of Squid, I wouldn’t stand in her way. “Thanks for the boost of confidence, Natalia. Right now is not the best time, but I would certainly love to share all I learn with the camp board. This place means a lot to me.”

“Thank you, Callie. I can see that.”

Probably the most civil, uncomplicated conversation that Natalia and I have ever had. One newspaper article and, like others in the community, Natalia seems to have developed an appreciation for my contributions. Squid, however, seemed more contemplative than usual.

Natalia wiped her fingers with a napkin. “Would you like to start the meeting, Thomas? Everyone appears to be here now.”