.***
Soft, soothing jazz drifts up from my car’s satellite radio, but even Norah Jones can’t calm my nerves. The fifty-mile drive to Tupper Lake seems like enough time to focus on my interview with the Greater Adirondack Chamber, and stop daydreaming about my last kiss with Wayne days ago.
Ninety minutes later, I park in front of the yellow building with four corner exposure. A wooden sign on the front directs me to the actual Chamber, as a pharmacy and sub shop also are part of the office block. The heavy door squeaks as I walk through, and a college-age girl looks up from her phone.
I clear my throat. “Hi, I’m Trish Maxwell. I have a meeting with Ed Sterling.”
She looks down at the desk calendar and smiles. “Right. Let me buzz him. He’s upstairs.”
My portfolio vibrates against my shaky legs even when I try to stand still. Please, God, let this meeting go well.
A couple minutes later, a man definitely taller than six feet hustles downstairs. He thrusts out his hand. “Hi, I’m Ed Sterling. We’re excited to meet with you, Trish.”
My hand crushes under his strength. Before I can yelp in pain, his words register.
“Thank you, Mr. Sterling. Did you say, ‘we?’”
He chuckles as he gestures for me to follow him upstairs, and he takes them two at a time. “Right. A couple of the board members were here to sign some papers, and I told them about you. They wanted to hear your pitch. I thought it was a good idea. I hope you don’t mind.”
I bite my lip for a moment, and hope my voice can carry confidence. “Absolutely.”
The conference room isn’t fancy, but it’s intimidating with a long table in the center and a man and woman are already seated. Ed pulls out a chair on wheels for me. “Greg Joyce, Phyllis Keyes, this is Trish Maxwell. The young woman I mentioned.”
I shake hands with the little strength I have left and sit in the moving chair. The three of them choose to sit across from me, and it feels like an office firing squad.
Ed starts. “Trish, tell us why you’re here.”
I place the portfolio on the table and open it up. “First, thank you for seeing me today. I realize you are all busy, and I appreciate your time. I believe my idea will benefit the businesses throughout the Greater Adirondack Region. I’d like to travel from town to town and create storefront displays to drive traffic. When I was in Indian Lake recently, I noticed few stores did this. I understand a lot of places cater to tourists in the summer, but, I think there is untapped customer potential.”
Phyllis raises her eyebrows. “Do you have statistics to back this up?”
I nod and pass out the laminated papers Wayne helped me draft. “I created a market analysis using figures from the Pocono and Catskill regions. As you’ll note at the bottom, they credit a quality, intentional marketing campaign with area storefronts as a variable in increased foot traffic and sales.”
Greg glances in the direction of my portfolio. “Do you have experience?”
“I have a Bachelor’s Degree in Hospitality, and a minor in marketing. I worked in events planning for a firm in New York City. This year I created storefront displays in Speculator Falls. JB’s and the senior center both said they have had more visitors than last year at this time.”
Phyllis keeps her gaze on the laminated paper. “Can that be attributed to your work?”
Deep breath. “I believe so.” I push the portfolio to their side of the table. “Here are sketches, and the finished product, plus more outlines I did of businesses outside Speculator Falls, to give you an idea.”
The trio quietly review the book. The silence is anything but calming, and I wipe my damp palms on my skirt. After a few minutes, Ed closes the book. “Very nice work, Miss Maxwell. What exactly do you want form us?”
“I believe approval from the Greater Adirondack Chamber would open doors for me. If you could include financing my work as part of their dues, I could travel and work on all businesses who request my work. I would let them know about me, and promote what I’ve done.”
They look at each other before Greg responds. “What is your financing?”
“If you flip your paper over, you will see my proposed budget. I’ve allowed traveling, supply, and labor costs.”
After turning the sheet over, Phyllis gasps. “Oh, my. That’s quite high.”
Ed and Greg are scribbling notes, and don’t respond to her claim.
If I bite my lip one more time, I’m going to taste blood. “Remember, this is an Adirondack wide endeavor. Three counties. A million acres.”
They look at each other again, and Greg gives Ed a slight nod. It’s apparently the gesture Ed was looking for as he straightens in his chair. “Miss Maxwell, the idea is a great one. We need all creativity possible to make our local businesses the best they can be. Your proposal is well done, but I have concerns.”
My stomach starts to churn. “I’m extremely flexible and would be happy to work on all issues.”
Ed smiles. “That’s great to hear. The first item is that when it comes to actual store front displays, you only have a few from Speculator Falls. To take on a job as big as what you’re asking, we’d like to see a lot more Adirondack experience from you. Not just your hometown.”
Phyllis pats the portfolio. “Your degree seems to be a better fit for a bigger city. I’m worried that if we were to agree on this, something else might come up more suited to event planning and you would leave us mid-project.”
The churning feels like lead has dropped to the pit of my stomach. “I have taken that route before, and returned to the mountains thinking this is the place for me to stay.”
Greg looks to his female colleague. “I agree with Phyllis. Even your budget is a big-city price tag. We can’t afford that. I crunched the numbers while looking this over and we would be asking the chamber members for an eighty percent increase. They would never renew membership if we demanded such a fee.”
Before I can answer, Ed stands, and I know it’s the death knell of my hopes. “Miss Maxwell, it’s a no, but please don’t be discouraged. There are grants out there that could make for a great partnership between chamber members and what you have to offer. Keep working on storefronts in your county. Build that portfolio. If you stay in the area, I am confident we will see you again. I hope we do.”
With one more painful handshake, I manage a weak thank you. The other two stand and walk toward us.
Phyllis offers a small smile. “Keep at it. With more experience, you’ll do great things.”
I reach for my car keys and squeeze them until my palm hurts. “I appreciate the time. I’ll see myself downstairs.” Before anyone can respond, I scoot out and race down, pushing quickly on the exit.
Once I’m in the car, hot tears roll.
I grip the steering wheel. “Lord, I thought they’d want this. I felt You lead me to this. I don’t understand.” Before I can find a tissue in my purse, the phone rings. I pick it up and check the number. Wayne.
His enthusiasm reaches my ears before I can speak. “So? How much did they love you?”
“Not so much.” My voice has a nasal tone, usually a clue I’ve been crying, but he doesn’t seem to catch that.
“What? No way. You have a great proposal. Your sketches are amazing.”
I dab the corner of my eyes with a tissue. “They didn’t think my degree matched what I want to do. They didn’t think I had enough Adirondack experience. They hated the budget.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m shocked. Did they give advice? What will you do now?”
The portfolio is the last thing I want to see, so I shove it off the seat and let it fall to the passenger floor. “They said I’m a better fit for a big city.”
There’s a sigh from the other end. “I’m sorry.”
“Wayne?”
“You okay? How can I help?”
All the comments about my leaving, from Shirley to Greg and Phyllis, come to mind in a taunting loop. The hurt travels from the pit of my sto
mach to my head. “What if everyone is right? It’s not the first time I’ve heard it. This was the only plan I have. I don’t want to work at the department store forever. Wayne? What if they’re right?”
Chapter Sixteen
Nothing’s going to make me feel better—not even Dad’s invite to help him set up the manger scene in the Four Corners plaza. Since the interview a week ago, I’ve been moping around the house and department store, certain my dreams to work throughout the mountains is crushed.
Dad unloads a bale of hay from his truck. “How would you like to turn on the plaza lights this year?”
I grab some chicken wire, and work on forming a makeshift shelter for us to stuff the straw through. “I don’t think so. Doesn’t the council usually choose someone and make it a community event?”
He sturdies the wire frame and starts to anchor it. “We do. That’s why I’m asking.”
I raise my eyebrows. “The council didn’t vote for me. There’s no way.”
Dad chuckles. “Believe it. They thought it was a great way to promote your participation with the senior center fashion show. To thank you for the work you’ve done on the storefronts.”
I crack my knuckles. “To pity me because the Greater Adirondack Council rejected me.”
He looks up from his work. “Trish. I know you’re hurting, but there really is a lot of good surrounding you right now. The village is proud of how you’ve turned things around. Everyone’s excited about the fashion show. Even if the interview didn’t go like you wanted, you’ve still done a lot of things to make Speculator Falls a better place. The council thought you were the perfect choice.”
I grab a fist-full of hay and shove it through the holes, before looking up at dad. “Really? I had no idea. That helps a lot. Thanks for sharing that with me.”
He smiles and pats me on the head with a gloved hand. “No problem, Honey. The tree lighting and plaza festivities are Friday night.”
“Okay. Count me in.” There’s a bounce to my step as I reach for more straw. “Do we need to decorate anything else?”
Dad gazes past me and nods. “Once we finish the manger scene, I need to pick up your mother and head to the office. Here comes Ben and Jenna. They signed up to decorate the tree the McComb family donated. I’m sure they’d appreciate your help.”
I turn to find the lovebirds strolling toward us, hand in hand. Jenna has a bulky black coat, so I can’t tell if she’s showing. But her face definitely reveals a happy glow.
“Is three a crowd? I’m happy to help if I can as soon as I finish stuffing straw.”
Dad wipes his hands on his jeans. “Hi, Ben, Jenna. I’ll come back later and string the lights throughout the wire. I have Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus waiting by the tree. Trish, you can place them inside the shelter.”
Ben smiles and extends his hand to dad. “I’ll do the lights, Mr. Maxwell. Trish, we’d love for you to pitch in.”
Dad waves goodbye and returns to the truck, and I fetch the four feet tall plastic Mary. After the figures are under the shelter, I join Jenna by the tree. She hands over one end of a string of lights so she can untangle the other end. “Ben tells me the council wants you to usher in the plaza Christmas displays this year.”
I fight the feeling that it’s a pity prize and focus on the council’s encouragement. “Yeah, Dad just told me.”
She stops maneuvering the long line of lights. “You don’t sound excited.”
A sarcastic laugh escapes. “I’m still pouting about my failed time with the Greater Adirondack Chamber. They were nice, but it was a rejection. Not sure what I do now.”
Jenna narrows her eyes and smiles. “You don’t quit, that’s what.”
Ben places a box of decorations next to me. “Quit? What’s this about?”
Jenna doesn’t lose her look. “Trish is upset because her interview didn’t end up with a promise of money or employment.”
Ben starts to chuckle, but it evolves into a full laugh.
I drop the lights and put my hands on my hips. “Are you mocking me?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m teasing my wife. Jenna knows exactly how you feel.”
She nods. “It’s true. I presented the budget to the council and there wasn’t enough information. I was asking for the moon my very first budget meeting. Ben asked great questions, and ultimately the money was tabled. I was so upset.”
So she gets it. And isn’t going to let me pout too long.
Ben reaches for a star on top of the box. “What did they say at your meeting? Was it truly a rejection, or did they suggest you try some things and come back?”
I take a deep breath. They aren’t going to let this go. “They had concerns. I have the wrong degree for the job. I didn’t have a lot of mountain experience. I only had displays in Speculator Falls. My budget was high. I need more in my portfolio to reflect the Adirondacks, not just my hometown. I was asking too much of the chamber members in their annual dues and should find a different method for funding.”
He glances at Jenna, and the two focus on me. “Trish, you weren’t rejected. Just re-directed.”
“Did they mention New York City?”
I arch my eyebrows. “How did you know?”
Jenna walks over to me and delivers a playful punch to my arm. “It’s your trigger. If they mentioned a fear you’d leave them for the city, you hear that all the time here. It upsets you. Ben’s right. That committee sounds helpful. I think the last thing you should do is quit.”
Her honesty stings as much as my arm, but I let the words sink in. I pick up the lights and work on untangling them without responding for a while. After a few minutes, I hand her the clean line of lights. “You’re right. Thanks. I need to re-group. I owe you.”
Jenna gestures me to follow her to the tree, where we start to hang our untangled project. “Joke’s on you. I need to whine.” She flashes a smile, so I’m not too worried about her issues.
I toss a strand toward her. “What? Jenna Regan needs to complain? I don’t believe it.”
Another laugh comes from Ben.
“Oh, yes. I know I’m being a big sister, but this is beyond frustrating. And I’m not just talking pregnancy hormones.”
There’s rustling behind us and I turn my head to peek. Wayne, in uniform, is walking toward us.
Ben jogs over and slaps him on the back. “Another guy. Tell me you can stay.”
Wayne wraps his arms around my waist from behind and gives a squeeze. “I wish. I’m on break.”
“Hey. Jenna’s about to reveal a complaint.” I step back, turn, and wink at Wayne. “I almost think it’s her first ever.”
“This I have to hear.”
Jenna folds her arms against her chest. “I think my sister Meg is dating Kyle Swarthmore.”
Wayne raises his eyebrows. “You mean Trish’s ex?”
Chapter Seventeen
As I dress for church, a flurry of texts arrive.
Wayne: You’re not mad that last night I referred to Kyle as your ex, are you?
Before I can reply, Jenna messages me. Would you be willing to talk to Meg? Let her know what a snake Swarthmore is? She won’t listen to me.
Ah, the protective, older sister. Always wanted a sibling.
No, it’s fine. It isn’t a period of my life to dwell on, but I made a bunch of mistakes. He was the worst of them.
Then, to Jenna: What makes you think she’ll listen to me?
Meg told me she admires you. I’m heading to church. Talk more later.
I toss my phone on the bed as I look for my boots. Meg Anderson has lived in Speculator Falls for a few months. Of all the people to look up to, I’m definitely not the one she should put on a pedestal.
An hour later, Wayne waves from one of the pews toward the front, and notice Noah’s next to Wayne as I make my way to him. Haven’t seen much of the teen since Wayne and I ran out of gas and needed Will to help.
Noah scoots over. “Hey, Trish.”
; I put my purse on the floor, not sure if this is awkward for Wayne, because I feel weird sitting by Noah and not him. “Good morning, boys. You both look handsome.” My focus is on Wayne, who doesn’t appear bothered that Noah’s sitting between us.
“You look great, as always. Did Jenna find you? She wants to talk about her sister and that Kyle.”
Noah smirks at the mention of Kyle’s name.
I glance to the front. Pastor Reynolds isn’t at the lectern yet, so there’s time to reply. “No, but we texted earlier. I’ll find her after service. Meg is an adult. I’m sure she can handle herself.”
Wayne rolls his eyes.
I arch my eyebrows. “What? You don’t think she can?”
An upbeat tune comes from the praise team on the platform, and Pastor Reynolds stands next to Brooke, clapping.
Wayne points to the front. “Sorry, we’ll talk after service.” Like that, the conversation is over.
And it feels like a bigger one is on the horizon.
After the worship time and announcements, Pastor Reynolds strolls to the stage, Bible in hand. “Good morning! As you look out the window and drive around town, we’re diving head-first into December. Christmas music plays at the Speculator Falls Department Store. The village garage. Brooke and I had a group of carolers from the senior center visit last night. None of this is a shock to the kids I know. Christmas has been on their mind. They probably wrote their lists out weeks ago.” He reaches for a bottled water under the podium, twists the cap, and takes a sip, as if stalling. Perhaps not wanting to say what God put on his heart. But, why? “Adults, I have a question about Christmas. Have you ever made a list and didn’t get what you wanted?”
Noah chuckles. “Every year I asked mom for a BB gun.”
Wayne leans toward him. “How does the saying go in that old Christmas movie? Something about you’ll hurt your eye?”
Before Noah responds, Pastor continues. “Today, we’re going to talk about Jeremiah 29, verse 11. Sometimes we don’t get what’s on our life list. I’ve had a lot of people visit my office over the years, and they have either two reactions when they don’t get what they want. They get better, or bitter.”
Engaged: Surrendering the Future (Surrendering Time Book 3) Page 9
