Then she explained, with more charts, how all the work could be funded by grants, grants that she would help apply for.
From the audience, she heard a single noise.
Old Bill, his head tipped forward on his chest, shook with the size of his gigantic snore.
The snore was followed by titters.
Good lord. She’d put him to sleep.
Flustered, Fiona said, ‘Progress is something we need in this town. Together, we can make something beautiful out of something ugly. Thanks for listening.’
It was a wimpy way to end. That wasn’t how she’d meant to sound, not at all. She hated the fiery blush that took over her face.
The mayor stood again. ‘Thank you, Fiona. Next, we’ll hear from the thankfully fully clothed Elbert Romo.’
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Keep the needles moving. One stitch at a time. – E. C.
Polite applause floated through the room. Fiona sat down in her chair, facing the audience. She clapped and then, embarrassed, smashed her hands together behind her, praying that her smile didn’t look ridiculous.
Elbert pulled the mike down toward him. ‘This thing work?’ Satisfied that it wouldn’t feed back like it had with Fiona, he launched into his speech without so much as a breath. ‘Urban sprawl. That’s what Fiona wants for our little town. This little lady wants us to be just like San Francisco or Reno or something, with their parks. Parks that tourists will talk about and come to and then buy her gasoline. Think about it. Big towns come with lots of problems, and yes, we’re talking about the hippies with their chickens.’ He spat out the word as if it tasted bad in his mouth.
Fiona coughed. In the crowd she saw Daisy trying desperately not to laugh, her sides shaking.
‘With their hybrid vehicles and their shoes with the toes built right in. We want those all over our town? Smoking their crack and bringing in their guns to sit in our new-fangled park? My proposal is to make the lighthouse into a guard booth. Everyone drivin’ by gets checked and gets a name sticker that they wear when they’re in any part of Cypress Hollow. That way, if the guy’s name is Howard, and he drops a gum wrapper, we can all yell, “Hey, Howard, pick that up!” at him. I ain’t got no fancy drawings or numbers. Also, thanks for lettin’ us go nekkid at Pirate’s Cove. My behind has a wicked tan and I got a girlfriend named Hazel now. That’s all.’ He tugged on his cap and stepped back.
Fiona didn’t let herself grin. She couldn’t, wouldn’t.
A confused-looking Mayor Finley said, ‘Well. Thank you for that, Elbert.’
Elbert shook his hands over his head and shouted, ‘Anytime!’
The mayor nodded. ‘Abe Atwell? Your turn.’
Abe stepped forward and took hold of the podium in much the same way Fiona had found herself doing, as though it would prop him up. He was as uncomfortable as she was up there. The thought helped.
Too loudly, he boomed, ‘My name is Abe Atwell.’ He stopped and adjusted the microphone, fiddling with it, moving it up and down. Marshall leaped up on the stage again, but Abe waved him away. ‘I got it, I got it. Anyway. Yeah. I’m here for one reason: to save the lighthouse.’
There was a light smattering of applause. Fiona tried to see who exactly was clapping, but it was scattered enough she couldn’t tell. Damn it all, it should have been illegal for a man to wear a suit that made his shoulders look that good.
Abe spoke into the microphone quietly now, as if he’d figured out what it wanted to hear. ‘I was raised here, too. And I like the way we turned out. We’re still a small farming town. We got ranches and the ranchers to run ’em. We got fishers and a place for our boats that I happen to be particularly fond of.’
Was he purposely pouring on that extra-country flavor? Making his voice all syrupy? He was irresistible in that mode. And it was starting to tick Fiona off.
‘Cypress Hollow is the kind of place that makes all Americans proud. It’s the kind of place where the 4th of July parade gets more press than anything else in town all year. Our Christmas display at the marina got written up in that fancy Californian magazine last year.’ He paused, and leaned forward, propping one arm congenially on the podium. ‘That’s the way we want it, isn’t it? To be known for our small-town charm? What’s prettier than a lighthouse, folks? What’s more picturesque – an old building standing tall and proud on the coastline, a symbol of strength and safety, or a couple of swing sets?’
Fiona actively hated that she was facing the entire room. She could see how everyone was drawn right in to what he was saying, smiling and nodding already.
‘Fiona’s all about progress, right? Thinks that movin’ forward is the only way to go. But the fact of it is that we all come from somewhere – we all have a past, and we can’t just forget about that.’ He glanced over his shoulder at her briefly, but he didn’t meet her eyes.
He looked like someone else. Someone she didn’t know. Definitely not someone she’d shuddered next to, nails dug into his skin, when he made her come for the fourth time in a row.
‘We have progress in this town. We have the stoplight and now we all know what it’s like to wait in traffic, something we never had before. The new post office, think about that for a minute.’ Abe paused and raised his palms expressively.
‘Remember when we used to hang out in the post office? We all went there at ten because that’s when the mail was out. It was our community center. The bulletin board showed everything from lost and found animals to what the American Legion was serving on Friday. Evelyn and Winnie knew everyone and everything. Now we got that new place where they’re behind glass. Did you know that glass is bullet-proof? That’s the way the USPS builds now. And to me, there shouldn’t be anything like that between neighbors in a town like this.’
Abe did that comfortable lean on the podium again, as if he had all the time in the world. Every eye was on him. People sat up straight, and Fiona saw nods throughout the crowd. Someone yelled, ‘Hey, our streets!’
He said, ‘Exactly. Another example, thanks for that, Tad. County Roads comes in to paint a bike lane, sure, and that’s great, but what about our streets? In the name of progress, they repave every road, and we all know that Jim Biddle’s company got that contract because he’s in bed with CalTrans. Using his crappy method, he’s done nothing but rebump every road. The potholes get bigger every time it rains. The bike race that used to come through here is going the long way around this year, because they can’t take the risk of riding on our chewed-up roads. That’s where progress gets you. The old roads were good, just needed a fixin’.’
Fiona leaned forward, sitting on her hands to prevent clenching them into fists.
‘Now, Fiona Lynde, she knows about fixing. That’s her job. Covering things up. Some of that comes natural to her, sure. And some of that comes from the fact that she lived in the lighthouse when she was a kid. Maybe she didn’t have the happiest home life when she was there –’
Fiona couldn’t help exclaiming, ‘Abe! You can’t –’
He shook his head and still didn’t meet her eyes. ‘Just common knowledge, darlin’. I’m not telling them anything they don’t already know. Just reminding them that you have a big stake in this – a bigger need than most of us to see the lighthouse crumble. And I don’t doubt that it was a hard row what with your mother leaving back then …’
Ice covered her heart so that she could almost hear it crack. She stood, terrified of what he might say next, what cold pain his words might bring. ‘I lost my mother the same year you lost your father.’ She made sure her voice was loud enough to carry without the help of the microphone.
He stood straighter. ‘That’s the truth. That’s another piece of common knowledge, too. Everyone knows my stake in the lighthouse. It’s what saved my life that night, swimming toward it.’
‘But it didn’t save your father.’
‘No.’ His voice was gruff.
‘Because you left him. A lighthouse couldn’t save him.’
‘
Couldn’t save your mother either.’
‘Maybe it could have, but you left him. Even though he begged you not to.’
Her words were a detonation. Fiona saw his face fall, his expression crumble.
She’d just told his worst secret. To the world. She didn’t even know how those words had come out of her mouth. If someone had offered her a million dollars to say them on stage, she would have turned the money down. But with him standing in front of her with those eyes that had looked through her soul last night and now didn’t appear to half-way recognize her, the way he threw her mother into the argument … she couldn’t let him. She just couldn’t.
Fiona sat, her body crashing into the chair, her heart thumping wildly, her breathing shallow. She found Daisy in the crowd, but her friend wouldn’t meet her eyes.
No one would.
But he’d brought her mother up first.
Jesus. This was bad.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
When it comes to wool, sometimes you have to take what you can get. – E. C.
Abe released the sides of the podium, leaning close to the microphone again. He felt a rush of heat behind his eyes, and a sudden headache bloomed. He felt nothing but white-hot anger.
He’d trusted her.
‘Well,’ he started, trailing off because he didn’t know what to do with his fury.
Sure, she’d trusted him, too. But everyone knew Fiona’s mother had left. He hadn’t – would never – tell the secrets that he knew, that she’d shared – that her mother had hit her, that Fiona had fired her from her job as mother and that Bunny had listened to her daughter, quitting the family forever.
No one in the room had moved since her outburst. No one whispered. Even the creaking of the chairs stopped. The room was waiting for him.
‘Didn’t see that coming,’ he said. ‘My worst night, divulged to you all in the name of progress. That kind of …’ The anger heated him so much he almost expected his feet to start smoldering. ‘I’m not sure how that kind of information is supposed to talk a community into tearing down an historic landmark. It’s true, though. What she said is true.’ His voice faltered and he hated himself profoundly, more than he ever had before. Eight rows into the crowd, his mother’s eyes were swimming with tears. ‘Mom, I didn’t tell you that part … I never wanted you to know …’
Hope just tipped her head to the side and gave him a watery smile.
Now his mother knew. What he’d done. How he’d abandoned – knowingly – the only man that mattered to her and ruined her life.
‘Fuck it,’ Abe said, shoving the microphone away from him. He looked at the council members in the front row. ‘Fuck the lighthouse. Do whatever you want with it. You will, anyway. Maybe she’s right, maybe it doesn’t deserve to be saved. We’re just going to lose everything anyway, that’s all I know. We always do.’
Without glancing at Fiona, he leaped off the stage and walked down the aisle. He stopped next to his mother, ignoring the pain in his chest. It was only his heart again, and broken hearts didn’t mean anything.
‘Can I please walk you home, Mom?’
Hope stood, slowly, so slowly. When she was finally standing straight, she pulled his head down and kissed his cheek. In that kiss was all the forgiveness he’d ever wanted – all the forgiveness he’d assumed he’d never get. His hands shook, and he felt sweat break out at his hairline.
As they walked out, his mother kept her hand on his forearm. As he pushed open the door for her, she said, ‘I’m proud of you.’
Tears filled his eyes now, but he kept his gaze straight ahead.
She continued, ‘I’ve always been proud of you.’
Outside, the night was cold, colder than it had been for weeks. The air smelled of wood smoke and garlic from the pizza shop. His mother shivered. Abe took off his coat to wrap it over her shoulders, almost doubling it around her.
‘You can’t be proud of me. Not now.’
Hope stopped and turned to face him. ‘You came home to me. You did what you had to in order to come home to me.’
‘He didn’t want me to leave him, Mom. I didn’t bring him home. That almost killed you.’
‘What would have killed me is if neither of you had come home.’
He said the words then, the words he’d heard in his mind, over and over. ‘I ruined everything.’
Hope laughed then, surprising the hell out of him. ‘Darling boy. You are my life. Don’t you know that?’
Behind them, the door of city hall flew open and Fiona’s voice rang out. ‘Abe!’
‘Come on,’ he said, leading his mother forward, not looking back. He couldn’t handle an apology from Fiona. Or worse, a justification. He wouldn’t – ever – take that from her.
It was just as well he’d learned a long time ago that happiness never stayed.
Otherwise, right now, he didn’t think he’d be able to live through this pain.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Your knitting knows when your heart doesn’t care enough and you’ll feel the piece slipping from your fingers as it pulls itself toward the unfinished pile. Better just to listen to your heart from the very beginning. – E. C.
At the shop the next morning, Fiona found Stephen cleaning out the tool closet without being asked, hanging up everything in their correct spots.
‘You hear about the meeting last night?’ asked Fiona.
‘Nope,’ he said, not looking curious about anything except where the bumping hammer should go. ‘I was here, working on a new piece.’
Fiona peeked into the side yard where what looked like half an enormous robotic-looking foot was resting on a small, steel bird. ‘It’s looking good.’
‘Thanks,’ he said, grinning that white, wide grin of his. ‘Already sold it, too, to some guy in Oakland. Couldn’t do it without you.’
He was probably the only person in Cypress Hollow who still liked her today. Fiona hugged him tight, and he grunted in surprise, but hugged her back. ‘I made some black beans this morning. Couldn’t sleep. Go get some from the house for your lunch, okay? Then take the rest of the day off. With pay.’
Obviously startled, he agreed, hurrying through the bay to the back door. ‘Dude, I’m going kayaking!’
Fiona sighed and watched from the couch as two more people, Steve Robishill and Marty Smith, paid at the pumps for gas.
No one ever paid at the pump. Abe was one of the only ones who did.
Today everyone had.
Dark clouds rolled in over the ocean. It was going to storm again, Fiona could feel it in the back of her eyes – the air pressure was pushing on her sinuses as though she had a cold. Or maybe that was from the crying last night.
Daisy hadn’t even come by this morning and, besides what Fiona had done to Abe, that was the worst part. Fiona literally couldn’t remember the last time her day didn’t include arguing with Daisy over eating something healthy, and hearing Tabby laugh.
She’d done just about the worst thing she could imagine doing last night. She felt nauseated all over again when she remembered how stricken Abe’s face had been.
Right when she’d fallen in love.
In love. Wasn’t that when bluebirds were supposed to wind ribbons in her hair and flowers burst into bloom as she wandered by, dreaming of him?
Yeah, that’s when she’d chosen to eviscerate him in public, in front of everyone they knew. While they argued about something that, in the long run, didn’t even matter that much. What did she care about the lighthouse, that heap of wooden trash? They could save it, hoist it up three stories higher, paint it bright red and remake it into city hall – she didn’t care.
And she wished she could tell him that.
She worked half-heartedly on the knitted earrings she was making. She’d finished one in the middle of the night, before she started cooking. Maybe she’d never sleep again. Maybe that’s what was going to come out of this broken heart. Lots more free time.
The bell over the door jingled.
Rayna Viera.
Well, she certainly deserved it.
Rayna wore a red, button-down shirt that fitted her just right, showing off her impressive curves, and a black short skirt that skimmed the top of her perfect knees. She smiled, her lips pinkly glossed. ‘I’ve heard you can fix the hell out of a broken mirror.’
‘Well,’ said Fiona, standing and placing the knitting on the counter, ‘that’s definitely the nicest thing I’ve heard all day.’
Rayna touched the top of the stack of newspapers. The lead headline of The Independent was ‘Council Saves Lighthouse in Landslide Vote’. No one had dared come inside the shop to buy one from her today. But Fiona bet that Tillie’s was sold out.
‘Quite a show last night,’ said Rayna. Her eyes were kind. Soft.
‘It was,’ said Fiona. She was surprised to hear her voice quaver. She wanted to say, I’m so embarrassed. I want to cry every minute. I lost the man you gave up so long ago. I lost the only man that mattered.
Instead, she said, ‘What happened to your car?’
‘Oh, it was so silly. I was backing up in that stupid post office parking lot –’ She broke off as they both realized she was referencing the new post office, the one Abe had talked about the night before. ‘Well, you know how it’s laid out. I hit that dumb mailbox. Just tapped it. Didn’t dent it at all, I think it’s made of kryptonite or something. But it took my passenger mirror right off.’ Rayna looked down at her shoes. ‘Tommy said he would fix it for me, but I want to handle this myself.’
‘Let’s go take a look.’
This was something Fiona could do. And God knew, she wasn’t going to have anything else to work on today. She told Rayna to wait inside, that she’d be done in no time. She had the part in stock and it would feel good to do something.
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