She's Got a Way

by Maggie McGinnis

  Laura opened her folder, pulling out three fat packets of stapled papers and handing one to each of them. “One question for you all before we look at this—how old do you think I am?”

  All three of them looked directly at her, and Gabi almost nervous-laughed at the expressions on Oliver’s and Luke’s faces.

  Oliver shook his head. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly to answer that question, Laura, and I’m sure Luke would agree with me.”

  Luke nodded, his eyebrows pulled together as he studied her.

  “Well, I’ll tell you, then.” Laura smiled. “Eighty-eight. Which is a nice round figure, don’t you think?”

  No one answered.

  “Here’s what’s so nice about that age—it takes a lot to get here, and when you are worth what I’m worth, it takes a lot of attorneys to get here. I’ve got the best of the best, and now?” She winked. “Now I’ve got a little surprise.”

  Chapter 34

  Surprise? Gabi looked down at the papers in her hand. A surprise couldn’t be bad, right? Had Laura figured out a way to keep Oliver and Luke employed, even though the board was ready to turn this into an all-girls’ camp?

  But would they even want to be here if that happened?

  Laura took a deep breath, lifting her own packet. “Here’s the thing. It was my financial gift that bought this property, on the recommendation of one of those attorneys. I had heard of Camp Echo, and he convinced me that there wasn’t another venture in New England more deserving of my investment. I did my research—though none of you probably even knew I was doing so—and the more I learned, the more I came to agree with him.”

  Gabi could practically feel Luke’s wheels turning, wondering who this attorney was … and where Laura was going with this.

  “I managed this bequest through Briarwood, because I truly wanted to believe that we could do better work for more children, and I was assured that the camp would be updated, staffed, and reopened next summer. I believe that’s all under way, so that makes me happy.” She tapped on the folders. “What doesn’t make me happy is that this board took that vote eight weeks ago. What makes me even less happy is that I suspected that’s exactly what they would do.”

  “But—” Gabi shook her head slowly. If she’d known, why had she funneled the donation through Briarwood? Why not just do it outright, if she suspected they’d rejigger it in the end?

  Laura put up both index fingers, stopping her. “I bought this property, and I donated it to Briarwood, but I didn’t give it freely. My attorneys wrote in a provision requiring that any change in purpose or mission be approved by me. We were sure they’d balk, but they approved it.” She shrugged. “Obviously they were anxious to get their hands on the land, and I imagine they see me as the old, doddering fool who either didn’t understand the legalese, or who wouldn’t notice if they buried the mission changes in a pile of other things that came up for blanket approval at that meeting.”

  She arched her eyebrows. “I noticed. And I did not approve of the changes. An-nd, since we were unable to come to an agreement, the original bequest requires that the property be moved into a trust administered by my attorneys and myself.”

  “Wha—” Gabi felt her mouth fall open as a tiny glimmer of hope took hold. “So Briarwood no longer owns the property?”

  Laura smiled. “I have very, very good lawyers.”

  Luke set down the papers he hadn’t yet looked at, but Gabi couldn’t tell from his face whether he thought Laura’s news was positive, or just more of the same garbage.

  “So what does this mean?” he asked.

  “Well, that’s why I’m here. I have some ideas, but before I finalize them, I want your input—all three of you. You’re the ones who built the place, live here, and have seen it work. I want to hear what you have to say.”

  Gabi backed up on the bench, putting up her hands. “I’ve only been here for a few weeks, Laura. I can’t possibly participate. I shouldn’t.”

  “Wrong.” Laura’s voice was so strong that it made all three of them jump. “Why do you think you’re here, Gabriela?”

  “Huh?” Gabi blinked, knowing full well that Laura had been in the board meeting where Gabi’s summer had gone up in smoke. She’d even voted, presumably. Why was she asking?

  “Um…” she stammered. “I’m here because my girls got into hot water and this was the board’s solution.”

  “Wrong again.” Laura smiled, gentling her tone. “You’re here because I’ve been watching you for years, and I love your spunk and your spirit and your heart … and I wanted you to fall in love with Echo Lake. I knew damn well what this board was going to do—that’s why I made sure the provisions were written into the agreement in the first place. But a small part of me wanted to give them a chance to prove me wrong.”

  She sighed. “They didn’t. So I sent you here.”

  “You sent me here?”

  “Yes.” Laura smiled like she was quite entertained with herself. “I’m quite good at influencing others when I put my mind to it. I just have to know their triggers. Since Priscilla Pritchard’s particular trigger is misery, I suggested Camp Echo as a consequence to the girls’ little escapade, but I made sure it sounded ever so much worse than it really is.” Laura winked. “She went for it like a dog for a steak.”

  “Shocker.” Gabi frowned, trying to connect Laura’s dots. “But why did you want me to fall in love with Echo Lake?”

  “Well, this is the best part.” Laura crossed her hands over her chest like she could barely contain her excitement. “I have a plan, my dear. And God willing, you’ll be part of it.”

  “A plan?” Gabi darted her eyes around the table, a distinct hum taking over her gut. It was the ninety percent fear, ten percent excitement type of hum, and she crossed her arms, swearing everyone else could hear it.

  “A plan.” Laura smiled as she slid more papers out of her folder. “I’d like to build a school.”

  Luke coughed. “A school?’

  “A school.” She nodded firmly. “A charter school, fully funded by my ridiculous wealth, aimed at the kids you most think could benefit from an Echo Lake–style education.”

  Luke tipped his head suspiciously. “What kind of kids?”

  “That would be for you to decide.”

  “Me.” The word fell softly, like he wasn’t comprehending. Good, because neither was Gabi.

  “Well, you and Gabriela, with input from Oliver.”

  “What?” Gabi shook her head. “But … Briarwood. My job—what?”

  Laura smiled and patted her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ve had this idea running around in my head for two years now. I need to remember that nobody else here has a clue I’ve even had an idea.” She took a deep breath. “Let me start from the beginning.”

  Oliver nodded, but a smile was busy taking over his face. “I think that would be advisable.”

  Laura stood up, walking to the windows. “Here’s what I imagine—a school, right here on the shores of Echo Lake, where just the right kids live with just the right mentors. We find them, we meet them where they’re at, and we care for them, educate them, and provide a safe haven so they can grow into successful, productive adults.”

  She turned her gaze toward them. “Oliver, you created this place. Luke, you’ve dedicated your own life to it. And Gabriela, you need this place. And selfishly, I need this place. I need to feel like the money my father left me is doing more than supporting a wealthy school full of wealthy girls who already have lives full of opportunity. I want this money to support those who don’t have those advantages.” She paused. “I want it to be used for the kids everyone else has forgotten. Because those are the ones who need it, and those are the ones who most deserve it.”

  Gabi looked at Luke, whose eyebrows had steadily hiked up his forehead as Laura had spoken. She still couldn’t tell whether he thought she was for real.

  “So this school…” His voice still held a healthy level of suspicion. “What do you envision
, in concrete terms?”

  Laura smiled, like she knew she’d hooked him, at least a little bit. “Well, on the physical end, I envision some building, just to make this a place suitable for year-round education. So, student cabins, a weatherproof dining hall, and some sort of indoor classroom space.” She put up a finger. “But I assure you, I don’t want this place to become an indoor-classroom type of school.”

  “What do you want it to become?”

  “I don’t want it to become anything. I want it to go back to exactly what it was last summer, and the summer before that, and the one fifteen years ago. You have a system that already works. You have teaching methods that already work. You have materials that already work.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You know how to educate these kids, Luke. I wouldn’t presume to change anything you already do. I just want to give you the funding to make it less painful, and to make it possible for you to do it for more kids.”

  Then she turned to Gabi. “And you, Gabriela, are hungry to do more, to be more than you can ever be at an insular, pretentious school like Briarwood. You’ve worked your proverbial ass off to make things change there, and what have you been able to accomplish?” She raised her eyebrows as Gabi slowly shook her head. “I know you’re not happy with the board. And I know you have a huge heart that wants to do more. This is the perfect opportunity. You and Luke, overseen by Oliver, can create a school you can both be proud of.”

  Gabi swallowed. Holy … cow.

  “Now, obviously we’d have a lot of details to work out, and you’ll need some time to think it over, but I’m ready and willing to open up my account as soon as the three of you sign on the dotted line. We could be ready to open next June. Salaries will be negotiated between you and me, and I promise they’ll be more than fair. My accountants are looking into all of that necessary-but-boring stuff like insurance and retirement and the like, but I am determined to have all three of you join me on this mission, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to make it happen.”

  She stopped, looking from Gabi to Luke to Oliver, and then she laughed. “Oh, if you three could only see your faces right now.”

  “Well.” Oliver shifted on the bench. “You do come in like a tornado-on-steroids, Miss Laura. It might take a little digestion time for us.”

  “Take all the time you need.” She sat down, tapping her folders. “But I’d love an answer in the next two days.”

  * * *

  Late that night, Gabi sat in her favorite Adirondack chair by the lake, running the meeting with Laura through her mind. It was all so much to take in, and she hadn’t quite figured out how to process it yet.

  When she heard Luke’s footsteps stop about ten feet behind her, she sat stock-still, wondering if he had come to find her.

  He folded himself into a chair. “Wow, hm?”

  “That would be an understatement.” Gabi tossed a pebble from the pile she had in her lap. It made a satisfying plink when it hit the water.

  “You think her plan’s got legs?”

  She nodded. “Oh, I think it’s got a lot of legs. But it’s also huge and risky and completely frightening.”

  “Which parts?”

  “All of the parts. She’s talking about turning Camp Echo into a year-round charter school, and she wants us to run it. You and me. It’s complete and utter insanity.”

  “Or brilliance. She wants the school to serve the kind of kids we’ve always had here, but with her financing the operation, we’d be able to have them year-round.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “I’m completely boggled by it all.”

  He looked out at the moonlit lake. “Which part really scares you the most?”

  Gabi was silent for a long moment. “I’m not even sure, Luke. And I’m so low on sleep and high on adrenaline that I can’t even think straight right now. I don’t know how to process it.”

  “I know.” He nodded. “I get it. It’s a lot easier for me. I get to stay right where I want to be, working with kids I totally get, living in a town I’m already in love with. I wouldn’t be giving up anything. It’s a totally different ballgame for you.”

  “It is. Briarwood’s kind of all I’ve ever known.” She cringed. “And don’t think I’m not fully aware of how pathetic that is.”

  “It’s not pathetic, Gabriela. You grew up there, you loved it, and you went back there to try to make a difference. Hardly pathetic.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “It sure feels it, though. You know, for years, I had no idea she was anything but a smiling face at board meetings. I’d get up there at the head of the big conference table and make some plea for something I thought was worth pleading for, and she’d always be at the other end, smiling away like she thought it was the best idea since sliced bread.”

  “It probably was.”

  “Thank you.” She rolled her eyes. “I always just figured she was like that with everyone.”

  “Well, apparently she wasn’t. She had your number, and she was making plans.”

  She turned toward Luke, putting her hands over her stomach to try to quell the hive of bees that seemed to be trying to bash their way through her skin. “What do you really think of her plan? Do you truly think it has legs?”

  “Hell, yes. I think it’s exactly what this area needs … and a lot of areas within driving distance. Opening up this school will give us the opportunity to target kids like Sam and Eve—get them out of their current situations, but give them the kind of education that’ll feed their souls, rather than sticking them where they can never belong.” He put up his hands. “And I’m not saying that in judgment. I’m just repeating what you said to me.”

  “I know.” Gabi sighed. “I just—I can’t fathom how it would all work. It’s so huge.”

  “It is. But when you look at the expertise you, Oliver, and I bring to the table, it’s three pretty damn good brains. I don’t get the sense that Laura makes stupid decisions, and she’s got this one planned out to the finest detail. The woman’s practically made of money, it sounds like, but she’s trying to do good things with it. We’d be insane not to take her up on this.”

  He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. As his skin touched hers, she felt the buzzing subside, and she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

  “Gabriela, this could be your chance to make the kind of difference you’ve been wanting to make for all these years. This is your chance to give fifty, a hundred, two hundred kids a better life … in just one year. No fighting the Pritch-bitches of the world. No watching trust funds grow while kids go hungry. You could be right here, with us, making every day count. Think about how that would feel.”

  His voice was soft but convincing, and Gabi felt herself caving little by little as he talked, but she still couldn’t quell the nerves zapping every inch of her body.

  On the surface, it seemed like the perfect solution. She’d get to do great things, she’d get to live in a place that belonged on postcards. She’d get to … be with him. Every day. Maybe every night. It seemed almost too perfect to be true.

  And that was exactly why she knew she needed to step back, take some time to think it through, and not jump in with both feet before she’d thoroughly considered all of the angles.

  “Please don’t hate me,” she finally said, “but I can’t say yes to this. Not right now. Not yet.”

  He sighed. “Because?”

  “Because I need to think, Luke. This is huge with a capital H. This would be me upending my entire existence on a chance that things might work out here. This would be me leaving behind any sense of stability I still have. Me leaving everything I know in the rearview mirror. I can’t turn that sort of decision around in twenty-four hours, as idealistic as this whole project sounds. I just … can’t.”

  “Understood.” He nodded slowly, pulling his hand back. “How long do you think you might need?”

  “I have no idea. I need to go back to Briarwood, settle the girls back in, and take some time for myself
so I can think it through. I just—I don’t honestly know how long that might take. I’m sorry.”

  “Okay,” he said, and she couldn’t help but see the hurt expression in his eyes as he turned away.

  “It’s not just the school we’re talking about here.” Gabi’s voice cracked as she spoke, and she tried to swallow the emotion so it wasn’t so damn obvious.

  “I know, Gabriela. And I guess I was looking at that as falling firmly in the pros column, rather than the cons.” He tapped his fist quietly on the arm of the chair. “But maybe I’m the only one seeing it that way.”

  “You’re not. I mean—” She put her head back against the chair, blowing out a long breath. “We’ve known each other for a whole three weeks. That’s it. And now we’re talking about tying our professional futures together in a pretty tight way. And maybe that’d be all fine and wonderful if our personal lives were similarly entwined. But good God, Luke. That’s a lot of togetherness, even for the most solid couples. And we’re not even—”

  “A couple?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Well … yes. We’re … I don’t even know what we are, at this point.” She closed her eyes, on one hand, longing to slide onto his lap and have him tell her everything was going to work out beautifully … and on the other hand, thinking maybe she should run to the end of the dock and dive in, hoping for the cold water to slice some sense into her.

  “Or what you want us to be? If anything?” His voice was level, but Gabi could feel him forcing the casual tone.

  “Yes. No.” She cringed. “This is the problem. I don’t know. And it’s not fair to skulk around here for the next week trying to figure that out. I don’t think I can.”

  “Because it’s impossible to think straight when you’re in my presence?” He lifted his eyebrows. “What with all the handy-ish, man-ish vibes and all?”

  Gabi smiled, grateful that he was trying so hard to keep this lighter than it really was. But he was dead right. If she didn’t leave right now, she’d make her decision—whichever way she went—for all the wrong reasons.