Thomas Kinkade's Cape Light Page 14

  “Thank you, Mr. Becker. Your time is up. Please step away and let the next citizen speak.”

  “I haven’t finished my statement,” Martin protested. “If you’ll just allow me a few—”

  “That’s the rule, Mr. Becker. Time is up. I’m just trying to keep this meeting fair and let everyone have their say.” Charlie banged the gavel and waved his hand, indicating Martin Becker should move along.

  “Silence and censor the opposition, a traditional mode of dictators.” Lillian didn’t even bother to lower her voice.

  Grace Hegman was next. She gently leaned toward the microphone. “I allot my time to Mr. Becker,” she said in her whispery voice.

  “Hear! Hear! I second that. Nice move, Gracie.” Grace’s father, Digger, applauded.

  Charlie leaned into his microphone. “You can’t second what she said. It isn’t a motion. And you can’t give your time to someone else, Grace. That’s not allowed, either.”

  “But we’ve always done it that way.” She turned around and looked at the audience, tucking a wisp of her gray hair behind her ear. “Haven’t we?” she asked in an innocent tone.

  “That’s right, Grace. We’ve always been allowed to give time to another speaker. You can’t rewrite the rules, Charlie.”

  Molly Willoughby had come to her feet, very certain about the question.

  Charlie covered the mike a moment and conferred with the council. He returned and spoke in a more conciliatory tone. “That was true when my predecessor was in office. But we’re following real parliamentary procedure now, not some mishmash version. This is the right way to do things, believe me.”

  “I like the way we did it in Mayor Warwick’s day. No one was cut off midsentence,” Felicity Bean said.

  “You ought to put away your rule book and get off your high horse, Charlie,” someone else shouted out.

  “All right, simmer down!” Charlie tapped his gavel.

  Emily stood up. She had not wanted to say anything, but she had been in that hot seat, and it was painful to watch Charlie flounder.

  “What Charlie just said is true. We were not following correct procedure by giving each other time to speak.” She heard her mother groan, but ignored her. “It was just the way the meetings had been run, back through Mayor Pritchard’s day,” she added, mentioning her predecessor.

  Charlie looked surprised but quickly followed up. “See, the former mayor agrees with me.”

  Martin Becker took hold of the microphone again. “Typical of Emily, to be honest and straightforward. And typical of you, Charlie, to change the rules in the middle of the game. I remember when you were fighting the parking meters on Main Street. Your group gave you all of their time, and you held the floor for over an hour.”

  “Touché, Becker. Well done!” Lillian called out.

  Emily had forgotten that famous filibuster. It was actually one of many Charlie had staged during his long career opposing her.

  “That was then, this is now. You shouldn’t have let me have the floor that long. See where it got you?” Charlie laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “As I was saying, Grace, if you don’t have anything to add, please step aside and let the next in line have their turn.”

  Sam Morgan stood up. “I’d still like to hear the rest of what Mr. Becker has to say. Isn’t that the point of these meetings?”

  Martin Becker stood at his seat and spoke in a voice loud enough for all to hear. “Thank you, Sam. I was going to add that the environmental impact of this development would be—”

  Karl Nelson, the town attorney, took the microphone from Charlie. “Didn’t you hear the mayor? Your time is done. The council must insist on order in this meeting.”

  “Simmer down, everybody!” Charlie yelled. He could hardly be heard over the arguments that had broken out all over the room.

  “I’ve seen enough of Mayor Mad Hatter for one night,” Lillian said as she and Ezra got to their feet. “Let’s head for the door before the rush.” Emily grabbed her coat and purse and then her mother’s arm as they swiftly left the room.

  Ezra and Lillian had a lot to say on the ride home. “I have to get out to these public forums more often,” Ezra said, sounding very energized. “It’s better than television.”

  “Anything is better than television,” Lillian replied. “I was surprised you tossed him a lifeline, Emily.”

  “The man is his own worst enemy. It’s his pugnacious attitude,” Ezra replied. “That’s what gets him into trouble. He’s smart enough, in a rough-around-the-edges way. But he has no bedside manner.”

  “I still don’t know how he got elected,” Lillian said.

  Emily was relieved to see they had reached Providence Street and quickly pulled into the driveway. Her mother was on the verge of calling for a recount—or an impeachment.

  Ezra got out of the backseat and helped Lillian from the car. “I’ll take it from here, dear. Good night,” he called to Emily.

  “Good night, Ezra. Good night, Mother,” she called back.

  She rolled up her window and headed home, feeling drained and unsettled. The meeting had only made the situation worse, heating up antagonism. It was exactly the wrong way to solve the problem.

  She walked wearily to the house, hoping Dan had cleaned the kitchen. She was ready for a cup of tea and a good book, then realized how late it was.

  Jane’s project. I promised her we were going to practice.

  It was my idea in the first place.

  She pulled her phone from her pocket and saw that Jane had sent her a text at nine o’clock, but she had shut her phone off in the meeting. It was already nine thirty.

  “Hello? Where is everyone?” Emily came in the front door and looked around the house. Neither Jane nor Dan were in the family room, or the kitchen, though the TV was on, set to the History channel, of course.

  “We’re upstairs,” Dan called back. He stood at the top of the staircase and stared down at her. “I’m helping Jane with her opening statement for the debate.”

  She could tell by his tone he was annoyed but trying not to show it. Emily took the stairs two at a time.

  “I didn’t forget. The meeting turned into a madhouse. How’s it going, honey?” She brushed past Dan, who stood near the door of Jane’s bedroom. Jane was at her desk, frowning over her laptop.

  Jane finally turned to her mother. “I’m not sure. It’s too wordy or something.”

  Emily sat on the edge of the bed and gave Jane her full attention. “We can fix that, don’t worry. Let’s hear what you have so far.”

  Dan met her gaze, then slipped out of the room. He did have every right to be annoyed. She had promised Jane she would be home over two hours ago. The meeting had been such a kangaroo court, anyone would have gotten distracted. But you’re stretching yourself too thin again, Emily. You’ve done your part for the open spacers. You have more important things to focus on.

  * * *

  “They’ve got me tarred and feathered, Tucker. What do you expect from a newspaper that’s run by Emily Warwick’s daughter-in-law?” Charlie tossed the Tuesday morning edition of the Cape Light Messenger on the counter.

  Tucker Tulley stirred his coffee. “It’s not favorable. No doubt about it.”

  “‘Mayor Bates’s Debut: Town Meeting Meltdown.’” Charlie read the headline aloud. “And it gets worse. The inside is full of stories and interviews with residents, and there’s even an editorial. Didn’t anything else happen in this town yesterday?”

  “It’s one meeting, Charlie. Try to get the big picture. You’re just getting out of the gate.”

  “Out of the gate and flat on my face, two yards down the track.” Charlie focused on the grill, pushing the sizzling bacon to one side, then turning two fried eggs. “Maybe they’re right. What do I know about being mayor? Maybe I should stick to dishing out chowder and clam rol
ls.”

  “You must know something about being mayor. People voted you in,” Tucker reminded him.

  “And last night those same voters turned on me like a pack of starving coyotes. You saw it. I tried to keep the peace and not lose my cool, but no one would listen.”

  “You’re spinning too many plates at once. If you don’t mind a little restaurant humor.” Tucker laughed at his own quip, but Charlie didn’t. “You should settle with K&B. Show people you can take action and resolve a big problem. Maybe it’s not worth it to hold out.”

  Charlie served Tucker his usual breakfast: two fried eggs, bacon, and toast. “I hate to look soft after everything I said. But maybe we can reach terms I can live with.”

  “That’s the way, Charlie. You’ve got to compromise.”

  “In some situations. Not with those open spacers. They’re going for the jugular. Did you see who their ringleader is now? Emily Warwick. Becker is just a front. She’s pulling the strings.”

  “I don’t know. She was pretty quiet last night. She even stuck up for you a little.”

  “That was just a trick,” Charlie said. “I know for a fact she’s in that gang. It’s a revenge thing. She can’t stand to see me in office.”

  Tucker spread butter on his toast and took a bite. “Emily Warwick was against zoning changes during the campaign. It’s not as if she never mentioned it. Besides, Charlie, you’re mayor now. You have to focus on the problems and fix them. That’s the way to win confidence and trust. Never mind about Emily. She’s old news. A lot of people voted for you. We’re counting on you to step up and prove we made the right choice.”

  Charlie met Tucker’s glance. He felt touched. “I won’t let you down, Tucker. I won’t let anyone down. But it’s impossible to run the diner and be a good mayor, too. I’ve got to get out from behind this counter and focus on Village Hall.”

  Tucker wiped his mouth with a napkin and brushed a few crumbs from his uniform. “I saw that coming. Why don’t you put an ad in the paper for a manager and maybe another cook?”

  “I would, but I’m strapped for cash right now. That campaign cost a lot, and I’ve got tuition bills to cover, too. Trudy doesn’t want the job. She’s told me flat out. At least I have Zoey. She can cover for me as soon as the semester ends. She’ll do a good job, too,” he added. “She looks a little kooky with her hairdos and way-out clothes, but she’s a smart girl, very responsible.”

  “I know she is. But how does she feel about the promotion?”

  Charlie felt color rise in his face. He cleared Tucker’s empty dish and wiped the counter. “I’ve brought it up, but she just squawks. You know teenagers. She’ll fall in line eventually.”

  Tucker put his police hat on. “If you say so.”

  Charlie could tell by Tucker’s tone that he didn’t think it would be so simple. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m her father. She has to do what I say.”

  Tucker laughed as he headed for the door. “Right. Get back to me on that one.”

  * * *

  Charlie closed the diner at nine that night. When he got home, he was glad to see Zoey’s car in the driveway. Best to get this news off his chest right away.

  The living room and dining room were dark, but he followed the light and laughter coming from the family room in the back of the house. Lucy and Zoey were already in pajamas, watching TV together, sipping hot cocoa and eating popcorn.

  “I can’t believe she said that! Did you see Briana’s face?” Zoey bounced on the chair cushions. “Wait . . . I’m going to play it over. Let me just rewind.”

  “Oh, yes, let’s see that one again.” Lucy was still laughing as she greeted him. “Hi, honey. Was the diner busy?”

  “Quiet night. A few couples out Christmas shopping. What’s going on here? Looks like a slumber party.”

  He had brought a pile of folders in from his truck, paperwork from Village Hall that he had to look over before he went to sleep. He dropped them on the end table and sat on the sofa next to Lucy.

  “We’re celebrating,” Lucy explained. “Zoey had her last final exam today and just sent in her last term paper.”

  Charlie was glad to hear that, for more reasons than the relieved look on his daughter’s face. He took a handful of popcorn from the bowl. “That’s good news. So the semester is officially over?”

  Zoey wore a rare, wide smile. “That’s right. And I just got an email from the youth center. They want to interview me for the internship. They’re only talking to three students, so my chances of getting it are really good.”

  Charlie felt his heart sink but forced a smile. Lucy was beaming with pride. “Isn’t that good news?” she said. “There were at least fifty students who applied, and now Zoey is one of three!”

  Charlie nodded. “Just getting called in to talk is a feather in your cap. If you don’t get this, another chance like this will come along. You’ll see.”

  Zoey had practically been dancing around with happiness but now stood still in the middle of the room. She looked at him curiously.

  The picture on the TV screen was frozen—two women in evening gowns and a lot of smeared makeup were in the middle of some sort of fight. That silly housewife reality show they liked to watch, mostly to make fun of it. Everyone was going to need a laugh in a minute or two, he reflected.

  Lucy turned to him. He knew that look. Her antenna was up. “Zoey might get this one. We ought to think positively.”

  Charlie rubbed his hands together, trying to find the right words. “The thing is, I need Zoey to work in the diner during her school vacation. Full-time. I need her to manage the place so I can focus on being mayor. We talked about it a little, honey, remember?”

  Zoey’s eyes were glistening with tears. “I can’t work at the diner full-time, Dad! I already told you. The internship is full-time.”

  “I know, I know . . . but other opportunities like this will come along for you, honey.” Charlie felt awful. He hated to see her cry, but he needed her to understand. “Listen, I only have this one chance to be mayor. I don’t see how I can do it otherwise. I just can’t find a manager on such short notice and train them and what have you.”

  He turned to Lucy. She had to back him up. “You saw what happened at the meeting last night, Lucy. They nearly ate me alive.”

  Lucy looked upset, too. “That meeting was rough,” she agreed, but she didn’t say more.

  “Dad, please. I don’t want to work in the diner every single day of my life. Even if I don’t get the internship, I promised the center I’d do more hours there. It will be good for my résumé and good experience for me.”

  Charlie tried to keep his tone calm. “I understand what you’re saying. But you’ve got time for that, Zoey, all the time in the world, even though you can’t see it that way.” He could tell she wasn’t listening to him, but kept going. “My situation is different. It’s like . . . like the house is on fire. I’ve got to take care of it right away. Starting tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? I’m not on the schedule tomorrow,” she corrected him in a tart tone.

  “Well, I am, as the manager. But I’m off the roster now, and you’re being called up from the minors.” He knew she didn’t understand that baseball terminology but didn’t stop to explain. “I’m sorry, honey. This is the only way. You’ve got to step up and help the family. Do you like seeing your father made into the laughingstock of the entire village?”

  From Zoey’s expression, he realized that had not been a good question to ask her at this moment.

  “Of course not,” Lucy cut in. She put her arm around Zoey’s shoulders. “I didn’t realize it was such a crisis for you, Charlie. I guess the meeting last night was an eye-opener.”

  She turned to Zoey. “I do think, all things considered, your father can use our help right now. You know how long he’s waited to be mayor. He deserves a chance
to do a good job now. I’ll help at the diner when I can and take fewer hours at the hospital next month. C.J. will be home again at Christmas, at least for a week or so. He can help, too. We’ll work it out, honey. It won’t be so bad.”

  Zoey still looked forlorn, on the verge of tears. But at least Lucy had calmed her down a little.

  “That’s right. It won’t be so bad,” Charlie repeated. “I’m giving you a nice raise—plenty of extra money for clothes shopping. That part is good, right?”

  “There’s nothing good about this. But I guess I don’t have any choice, do I?” Zoey’s gaze bounced from her father to her mother and back again.

  Lucy looked upset, too. He could tell she wasn’t going to field this one for him.

  “No, honey. I’m sorry. You don’t,” he finally replied.

  Lucy rubbed Zoey’s shoulder. “Want to watch the rest of the show?”

  “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

  Lucy didn’t seem surprised. “Okay. Good night, honey.”

  “Good night, sweetheart,” Charlie chimed in.

  Zoey left the room and headed upstairs, her dark head hanging to her chest.

  Charlie stuffed more popcorn in his mouth, though he wasn’t hungry. He watched Lucy walk around the room, clearing up the empty mugs and magazines. Picking up an empty bowl, he followed her into the kitchen.

  “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me? Maybe when she’s forty-something and has teenagers of her own?” he asked quietly. “I feel awful forcing her into this. But I don’t know what else to do.”

  “I know. She’s disappointed. She’s been working hard to get that internship. Maybe she won’t even go for the interview now.”

  “I hope not. What’s the point?” Charlie hoped Zoey would decide not to go. If she was picked, he would have to go through this wringer all over again. “Hey, I’m not heartless. I know this is tough for her, but that’s the way life is sometimes. Plans don’t always work out.”