Thomas Kinkade's Cape Light Page 15
“True enough.” Lucy was fixing the coffeemaker for the morning pot. “But I think she had enough of those lessons before she came to live with us,” Lucy added quietly. “I was hoping we could show her the other side of that coin.”
Charlie didn’t answer. He knew what Lucy said was true.
Lucy said good night and went upstairs, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the paperwork from Village Hall. And a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Well, I got my way tonight, he reflected. But at a high cost. A mighty high cost.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zoey’s alarm went off at half past six on Wednesday morning. She remembered that she didn’t have school and shut it off, gratefully sinking back into her pillow. No, another voice said, jogging her awake again. You have to go to the diner—instead of sleeping in and doing whatever you please the first day of winter break.
A few minutes later, she heard a tap on the door. “Zoey, are you up?” her dad asked.
“Yes!” she called back. She barely spared him a word more as she came downstairs on time and they drove through the quiet side streets toward the village.
When they reached the diner, Tim was already at work, cooking bacon and home fries and mixing pancake batter.
Her father went into the kitchen to talk to him. Tim didn’t know Zoey was going to be the new manager, and Charlie had to explain the sudden change and give him a checklist he had written out and all sorts of other instructions that Tim probably already knew. Zoey got along well with Tim. She was sure they would work out any problems easily.
She stowed her jacket and purse, then checked the dining room to make sure the tables were properly set. A list of specials for the day, written in Tim’s hand on a white sheet of paper, sat near the register, and Zoey started working on the chalkboard. She had to search for the box of colored chalk she had bought, and finally found it on a shelf under the cups.
Her father came out of the kitchen. “Use the plain, white chalk, and none of those fancy curlicues, please.”
“I’m the manager now. I get to decide if the specials are written in color or not, curly or block lettering, or even bubble. One job out of a zillion that I actually like here,” she mused as she wrote out the words with artistic flair: Soup of the Day—Hearty Homemade Minestrone.
Her father took a white sheet of paper from his clipboard. “I made you a checklist, too. All the little things you need to be mindful of as manager.”
“Okay, Dad. But I think I know what to do by now.”
“Humor me, will you, Zoey?”
Zoey finally looked at the page. Her father had catalogued the tasks involved in running the diner in the tiniest detail: unlock doors, put on lights, shut off lights, lock doors.
She knew he wouldn’t feel comfortable about leaving her there until she read it through. Or at least pretended to. After a few moments, she looked back up at him. “Okay, I’ll keep this handy so I don’t forget anything.”
“Good idea. Keep it right here, by the register.” He reached into his pocket and laid the big key ring on the counter. “You take this. Put it in a safe place. I don’t have duplicates of some of those.”
“The Burning Sword of the Masters? You’re actually giving that to me?”
He squinted at her. “I’m sure you’re making fun again, but guess I have to ask, what that’s supposed to mean?”
“Just being silly.” Zoey shrugged. “It’s from a video game. The boys play it all the time. Battle of the Masters.”
“Are you mature enough to handle this or not? This isn’t one big joke, Zoey.”
“I am, Dad. Don’t worry.” She had gone too far with that last remark. Now he was all nervous again. “I’ve been doing all that stuff on the list for a long time. You just never paid me for it.”
“Now you’re getting paid for it, and getting the title, too. I’m counting on you, honey.” He reached over and patted her shoulder. “You can take a lot off my back right now if I don’t have to worry about this place, too. These last few weeks have just been too much. Too much for me, anyway.”
Something about her father’s heartfelt tone and vulnerable expression made Zoey forget her annoyance. He was sincerely grateful, and very worried about being able to do his job as mayor.
“Don’t worry, I can do this. And I know you’re going to be a good mayor, too.”
Charlie looked surprised, his eyes suddenly bright. “Thanks, honey. That means a lot to me.” He pulled on his Red Sox cap and headed for the door. “Anything comes up, you just call or text.”
“I will,” she promised for the hundredth time.
The door opened. Zoey expected an early customer, but it was James.
“Look who’s here.” Charlie paused and checked his watch. “Late again.”
“Sorry, Charlie. My grandma’s truck wouldn’t start, and I hitched a ride.”
Zoey was happy to see him but tried not to show it too much. She hadn’t gotten a chance to check if he was on the schedule today. There was one bright spot to the day.
“I’m not surprised. Bella has been very moody lately,” Zoey said. “I can pick you up if we’re on the schedule together.”
“No, you can’t,” Charlie interrupted. “You’re the manager, not a taxi service for the staff. You need to be here all the time. They need to find their own transportation.”
“You’re the manager? Cool.” James had pulled off his jacket and was putting on an apron. “Congratulations.”
Zoey smiled, feeling the compliment was silly. “It’s no big deal, believe me.”
Her father seemed ready to argue about that, too, then shook his head. “I’ll call you later. Get some Christmas decorations up today, will you? We’re the only place in town without holiday cheer. The box is in the basement somewhere.”
“Don’t worry. By the time you get back, it will look like Santa’s Workshop in here.”
“Don’t overdo it,” he called back over his shoulder as he walked out. “We don’t want the customers getting dizzy from too many blinking lights. That’s not relaxing when you’re eating.”
The door closed before Zoey could reply, and Charlie finally set off.
“Are you sure he isn’t watching on a baby monitor or something?” James whispered.
“I never thought of that. Where would he hide the camera? Maybe in these donuts?” She lifted the glass lid on a cake stand that held a display of donuts and muffins, then looked it over with a serious expression. “Nothing here. Maybe I should check the crumb cake.”
James laughed. “Seriously, I don’t think your dad likes me very much.”
“He’s like that with everybody. You just have to get to know him.”
“Is he always that . . . intense?”
“Pretty much. Whenever he acts calm, my mom worries he’s coming down with something. It’s just that he’s wanted to be mayor for so long, and he can’t believe he’s not doing a great job at it.”
“That’s what I read in the newspaper. People sound pretty unhappy. No offense,” James added quickly.
Zoey knew James was just relating what he had read about Monday night’s meeting and didn’t mean anything by it, but she didn’t like hearing anyone criticize her father. Not even James.
“Anybody would get off to a shaky start, trying to deal with all the problems that are going on in the town right now. And trying to run this place. That’s why I said I’d help him now that the semester is over. Even though I did have other plans,” she added quietly. “I know he can do a great job. If he gets a chance.”
“Sure he can,” James agreed quickly. “I didn’t mean to say he couldn’t. A lot of people in town really like your dad and don’t blame him at all for the way the meeting went. It’s nice of you to help him.”
“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” Zoey admitted. “
But he helps me a lot. I mean, we’re a family, so we help each other. I’m trying not to make a big deal out of it.” Trying now, she amended. Last night was another story.
Digger Hegman came in and sat at the counter. Zoey was not surprised to see him. The old fisherman still rose before dawn most days and sat at the harbor awhile, watching the boats and birds. His daughter, Grace, worried about him wandering off, but everyone in town knew his routine and kept their eye on him.
“Hey, Digger. I’ll be right there,” Zoey said.
Digger raised his hand in greeting. “Hot tea, with lemon and honey. Toast and jam. You know my weakness by now.”
Zoey smiled and nodded, then turned back to James. “We’d better get to work. We can decorate later, after the breakfast rush.”
“Sounds like a plan.” James grabbed some empty water pitchers. “Can I ask you one question before we start? I mean, since you’re the manager now and everything?”
Zoey turned to him, feeling very official. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Since you’re done with school, want to go out this weekend? Whenever we’re both off from work, I guess.”
Zoey smiled. “Thanks. I would. And since I’m the manager, I’ll work out the schedule, too.”
James grinned and ducked into the kitchen. Zoey grabbed a menu and headed for her first customer, her smile so wide her face hurt.
She’d never admit it to her dad, but maybe being manager did have some perks.
* * *
“Let’s see . . . whose turn is it?” Emily gazed at the girls who sat side by side on the couch in the family room, her daughter Jane among them. It had been Emily’s idea for Jane to invite her team over for a debate practice, pizza party, and sleepover, and Friday was the perfect night.
With their long hair, braces, and almost identical sweatshirts and jeans, Emily thought they looked like a flock of pretty birds. Smart birds, too. They had been rehearsing for the debate for almost an hour, and she was impressed with how far they had come.
“It’s my turn, Mrs. Forbes,” said Jane’s best friend, Maddie.
“Please argue in support of the statement that the American Revolution was fought for economic reasons.” Emily read from the points Jane had prepared for her. “You have three minutes for your opening statement, starting now.”
Emily looked at her watch and gave a signal. Maddie stood up, notes in hand, and began. She was almost done when Dan walked in the side door with a stack of pizza boxes. Emily watched the girls instantly respond to the aroma, sniffing the air like hungry puppies.
“Time’s up. Good job, Maddie,” Emily said. “You spoke very clearly and in a firm voice, not too fast but not too slow. And she didn’t have her head down, reading off her notes the whole time, right, girls?”
They nodded in reply. There were a few more points to cover, but Emily couldn’t resist the smell of the pizza, either. “Looks like dinner’s here. Anyone hungry?” She was teasing, of course.
The girls giggled and jostled each other, heading for the counter, where Dan had set up paper plates, napkins and cups, a green salad, and the essential pizzas.
“Help yourselves. Don’t be shy.”
Jane hung back in the family room with Emily, helping her pick up papers and textbooks. “Great rehearsal today, Jane. I think you’ll all do great next week at the debate.”
“Thanks, Mom. And thanks for helping us.”
Emily slipped an arm around Jane’s shoulders. “Thanks for letting me. I can hardly wait.”
The girls descended on the pizza, talking and laughing. Emily stood back at the counter with Dan, eating their own pizza standing up.
“How’s it going?” Dan asked.
“Very well. They’ve got the facts down. We’re working on speaking skills now, and a few tricks for counterarguments. They’ll be in great shape by next Friday.”
“Will we have another pizza party and sleepover to celebrate?”
“I was thinking of ‘Make Your Own Tacos.’ But we’re on the same track. Sleepovers are what middle school is all about.”
It was a good idea. And Emily wanted Jane to know her home was open to friends as a gathering place, that the fun wasn’t always happening at some other girl’s house. She knew they had not been good about hosting nights like this, but hoped to catch up quickly.
Her cell phone rang, and she quickly checked the number.
“Who’s that? Lillian?” Dan asked.
“Nope. She already called five times today, though. It’s Martin Becker. The group is having a meeting tonight. I told him I couldn’t come, but he needs some information I promised to research for them.”
“Emily, I thought you said that after the Monday night meeting, they were on their own.”
“Yes, I know. But something big has come up. And I really have to help them. With some research,” she added.
Dan gave her a curious look. “Research into what? Filing a lawsuit against the town?”
“Not a lawsuit. Someone heard that a motion will be pushed through to call for an emergency village-wide vote on changing the zoning. The vote will be held in the middle of the winter when fewer voters are likely to come out, especially older residents.”
“Because they’re the ones who are most interested in preserving the town,” Dan said, understanding. “That’s a tricky maneuver. It could work.” He started on a second slice.
“It definitely could work. But I’m almost certain there’s a village bylaw that would let the open-space group freeze the zoning laws for twenty-four months. I mentioned it to them, and now they seem to be pinning all their hopes on it. I have to find it and figure out how they can use it.”
“You’re right. You’re probably one of the few people in town who would even know of an obscure bylaw like that. But now that you’ve remembered, can’t they take it from here? Just pass the ball and let someone else run down the field.”
Emily could see Dan was concerned about her sinking too deep into this issue when she had promised to just stick a toe in and jump right out. Her cell phone sounded again then, this time with a long text from another open-space group volunteer. Emily started to read it and barely noticed Jane standing right next to her.
“We threw our plates and stuff away. We’re going up to my room now, okay?”
“Sure, go ahead,” Dan said, before Emily had even looked up from her phone. By the time she had, Jane was walking out of the room.
“It’s fine, honey. Don’t wait too long to start your movie,” Emily called after her.
Dan walked over to the snack bar and began clearing up the leftover pizza.
“I’ll wrap this one up,” she said, taking a box that had not been opened. Her phone buzzed again, but she ignored it.
“It’s all right. I’ve got this. I’m guessing you need to get to your computer. Before your phone explodes,” he added.
“I guess I should. The sooner I get this over with, the better.”
Dan had his back turned to her as he loaded the dishwasher and didn’t reply. She went into her office, feeling unsettled. She could see he thought she was slipping back into her old routine.
But now that she did see a tactic that might save the open-space group, she couldn’t turn her back on them. If she could find that bylaw and figure out how to use it, it would be a game changer.
Dan will appreciate this later, she consoled herself. He wants this side to win, too. Even though he doesn’t seem very happy right now, she had to admit as she turned on her computer. Not happy at all.
* * *
James picked up Zoey at her house at seven o’clock in his grandmother’s truck. Zoey would have been happy to run right out when she saw him pull up, but Lucy insisted that she wait for him to come to the door.
“I’ve heard a lot about him, and I’d like to meet him,” Lucy said.
The doorbell rang. Zoey felt a flutter of nerves but tried to disguise it by acting annoyed with her mother. “All right, let’s get this over with. I’m putting my jacket on right now. Just say hello, and we’re out of here.”
“That’s fine. I’ll get the door.” Lucy opened the door. “You must be James. I’m Mrs. Bates. It’s nice to meet you.”
James smiled and held out his hand, looking sincerely pleased to meet her. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Bates.”
Zoey could tell by Lucy’s expression that she thought James was cute. He did look very handsome tonight, she thought, in a thick black sweater, a tweed sports jacket, and jeans. A blue scarf, which brought out the color of his eyes, was slung around his neck.
Zoey was glad she had decided to wear a nicer outfit than jeans and a sweater. She had on a black minidress with a swirly print, black tights, and boots.
“How are you enjoying your visit to Cape Light? Zoey told me that you’ve been living in New York. It must be a huge change after that.”
Great. Remind him how backwoodsy we are out here, Mom. That will help me tons, Zoey fumed.
“Yes, it’s a big change but, so far, a good one for me. I thought I would miss the city. But I really don’t.”
Before her mother could drag out the conversation, Zoey zipped up her leather jacket. “I’m ready. We don’t want to be late for the movie.”
“Right.” James checked his watch. “I think we’ll be fine. As long as Bella doesn’t act up.”
Lucy was already familiar with Sophie’s truck and its name. “I hope not. But if you have any trouble, just call me. I’ll be in all night.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” James had opened the door for her, and Zoey glanced over her shoulder as she walked out and gave her mother a small wave. Lucy blew her a little kiss.