by Meg Ripley
It was his mother. Young, fresh-faced, vibrant, and happy, dressed in yellow pedal pushers and white T-shirt, her red hair pulled back in a bouncy ponytail, her eyes bright and laughing. Jason turned questioning eyes to the older man and tapped lightly on the photo with his knuckle.
"Oh yes, Vivian. She worked here throughout high school, and I hoped she’d want to stick around. Maybe take over for me. But the summer she met her boyfriend, she told me she wouldn’t be coming back. Of course, I couldn’t blame her.” His smile became nostalgic, his eyes looking away, as though he was peering into the past. "Vivian and Damian. That was the last really good summer the park had. Viv worked so hard and Damian loved the place. He drove out to see her every weekend."
Jason blinked, not sure how to process what he just heard. "Damian loved the park?"
"Oh yeah. The rides, the games, the food, everything." Mr. Kelsey laughed. "Maybe that's why I did so well that summer. He couldn't get enough of the place and he insisted on paying for everything, even though Viv would have given him a roll of tickets."
Jason studied the surrounding faces until he found the features he was seeking; younger, more striking—yet more carefree—he found his father riding a dragon on the carousel.
"Mr. Kelsey, did you contact the investing firm?"
"What? Oh no. I wouldn't have ever thought of that. No, no, Damian contacted me and said he would be sending somebody over to discuss my options."
"Have you...met me before, Mr. Kelsey?"
The old man's eye twinkled. "When you were just knee-high to a grasshopper. Your favorite ride was the roller coaster."
****
Jason took a deep breath before stepping through the door, praying that Mary would be behind the bar. Mary, not Shayne. The woman he had an instant connection with. The woman who talked and laughed with him. The woman who seemed reasonable and willing to give a humble man a fair shake.
His brain had been ticking the whole drive over, returning to his parents again and again. They had clearly loved Adventure Isle, and it wasn't hard for Jason to imagine why. For a few hours a day, for a few months over one summer, they were free of the restrictions placed on them by their very nature. Away from the Club, from their families, from the burden of their constant secret, they could pretend they were just normal kids for a little while. No wonder his father didn't want to see the park shut down forever.
One more try. He owed it to his father. And to the memory of his mother.
"Just the woman I'm looking for," Jason said, as he sauntered up to the bar.
Her brow furrowed. "I guess I should have expected you."
"I just want to talk."
"I don't have anything else to say. No is a complete sentence, you know."
"Do you work here full time?" Jason asked, shifting gears.
"No. I'm just helping out until we can find somebody."
"So, you manage your father's empire during the day and tend bar at night?"
"Something like that."
"You're a busy woman."
"Yes, I am. Which is why I don't have the time to have this conversation with you over and over."
"Fair enough. Look, I understand you're just trying to act in your father's best interest. I have a personal investment in the situation as well. That's where my parents fell in love. Where they were happy.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“You’re doing what’s best for your father. I get that. I’m not close with mine, but for the first time since I’ve known him, my father is acting out of a sense of sentimentality. And he asked me for a favor. I’d like to tell him I did my best, if nothing else. Now I can go back to his office and tell him I failed tonight. Or I can give you my presentation."
She studied him for a long beat, as if weighing his sincerity. "You can give your presentation tonight, but it will only be delaying the inevitable."
"But you will listen?" Jason asked.
"Yes. I'll hear you out. I’m assuming you came prepared?"
"Absolutely."
"You can get set up in the back office."
Jason grinned. "I knew I liked Mary better."
She rolled her eyes but didn't bother to correct him. He hurried out to the car for his briefcase and laptop, his step light. He didn't know if she was actually interested in the information, or just in shutting him up, and frankly, he didn't care. He was going to give it his best shot and have faith in his ideas. They were good ideas. Good enough to turn around the stumbling park? He thought so. He could only hope she agreed.
His heart hammered in his ears as he set up his presentation, but he couldn't tell if the nerves were of a professional or personal nature. He wanted to impress Shayne the investor—but he'd really like to spend another night with Mary the bartender.
Once he had everything ready, he passed the time reviewing his notes and mentally rehearsing the points he wanted to make. The minutes ticked by, turning into an hour. Then two. Jason didn't sweat it. If he had to wait in her office all night, he would. Sooner or later she'd listen to him, if only so she could lock up the bar and go home.
Finally, the door swung open and a tired looking Mary slumped inside, pushing the door shut behind her and collapsing into her chair. She sighed, dropped her head back, and closed her eyes. The silence might have been awkward, but Jason felt at ease for the first time that night, being near her.
"Sorry," she finally said. "I really didn't mean to forget you back here. There was a bowling tournament tonight and we got slammed. They drank us dry."
"It's no problem at all. In fact, if you need a few more minutes to get a bite to eat or rest your eyes, I'm happy to wait."
She opened her eyes to study his face, looking at him like he was a quandary she couldn't quite explain. "Are you this tenacious with all your accounts?"
"None of my accounts have ever been this...challenging."
"Did you know who I was?" She tilted her head. "Is that why you came in here the other night?"
"No," Jason said emphatically. "I came in here the other night for a drink. Meeting you was a wonderful, unexpected, fantastic surprise."
She turned the chair to face him, sat up and squared her shoulders. Suddenly he was looking at Shayne Simmons, pit bull and consummate businesswoman. Jason knew he had to dig deep. Tired or not, her sharp mind would question everything, and if he faltered, she wouldn't give him an inch.
He began with a presentation of the park's history, a short summary from the day Adventure Isle opened its gates, through its heyday, to its current situation, his words augmented by some of the photos he took from Kelsey’s office, including the one of his mother. Next, he detailed the renovations the park would need, explained which areas would see the quickest profits, and how he would target the market to expand growth over the next two years. Concessions and updated rides were a huge part of that, but there was not a concert venue within a 50-mile radius, and adding a stage and soundboard would help attract customers.
"But you were right, Ms. Simmons, the amusement park is a dying industry. Especially one the size of and in the location of Adventure Isle. That's why I'm going to propose a name change and a shift in focus. The games, concessions, and rides are a lot of fun, but they're not going to be the major pull that the park will need to really turn its books around," Jason added.
"Change its name to what?"
"Dragon Isle."
"Dragon Isle?" She didn't look impressed and Jason rushed forward to add, "Well, a professional branding company will choose the name. But that will be the focus."
She sighed. "Dragons? That's your big idea? I don't see how that's going to be the major draw you need."
"What about real dragons?"
Shayne's eyes widened. “What?"
"Well, lizards. Snakes. See, one of the attractions we could add is Reptile Land. Courtesy of the Simmons Trust, it will be dedicated to education and conservation of reptiles from all over the world. We'll also be the only place you
can go to see life-sized replicas of dragons. Other than your father's backyard, of course. Now finally, what I want to discuss is how we can truly get the community involved in turning the park around."
From there, he transitioned into his actual forecast, offering her the most conservative numbers he could, erring on the side of caution. But the numbers were solid. It was not a bad investment. If she still did not want to sign on, at least he knew he gave his best.
By the time he finished speaking, an hour had passed. She hadn't interrupted again, allowing him to finish his entire spiel without another word. He had no idea if that was a good thing or not.
"Jason, this may be the exhaustion talking, but your ideas are not terrible."
"Thank you."
"I didn't say they were great."
"And you didn't tell me we should all just give up and let it die, so I'm going to appreciate the victory."
She snorted. "I want to see this place."
Something on Jason's face must have given his thoughts away because Shayne leaned forward. "What? Don't you want me to see it?"
"I'm not going to lie to you. It's a little...rough right now."
"I can't make any further decisions until I see it."
"Of course," Jason said quickly. He didn't want to lose the ground he so painstakingly gained. "When are you available?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"Perfect. I'll stay at the Quality Inn and we'll drive over first thing."
"You don't have to do that. Stay at the Quality Inn, I mean. If you want to...um...bunk with me."
"Bunk with you?" Jason's lips twisted with amusement even as his heart thudded with relief. She didn't hate him after all. In fact, Jason was pretty sure he was starting to grow on her. "That's the best offer I've had in a long time. Let me just get everything cleaned up."
While he dealt with his paperwork, she closed up the bar. When they met at the back door, Jason was eager to put all their work behind him, and his nerves were returning, full force. His palms even felt clammy. How did she constantly have this effect on him? He couldn't explain it, couldn't account for it or even remember if anyone else had ever had him so twisted in knots.
****
Mary Shayne Broadworth Simmons was named for her mother, the indomitable Mary Broadworth, and her uncle, the unfortunate Shane Simmons, who died serving in Vietnam two decades before she was born. Her mother had been far better suited for the task of amassing a fortune than raising a family, and her uncle wasn’t even a memory, only a ghost that haunted her father. Still, the ghost seemed to cause less pain for Neil than the shadow of his wife did, and so he called his daughter Shayne. When she moved from the family mansion to her own small home, she started going by Mary.
“I didn’t even really think about it,” she said. “One day, I just introduced myself as Mary and it seemed natural.”
“Isn’t this kind of a small town? You’ve never had a case of mistaken identity before?”
“I didn’t grow up in this area. Actually, my father moved here to be closer to me. Of course, he had to build the house and those damned dragons.”
Jason stiffened, more at the tone than the words, remembering how large of a part those damned dragons had played in his presentation. It had seemed like a really good idea at the time.
She noticed his reaction and offered a wry smile. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re beautiful. But they’re a bit of a sore point.”
“Why?”
She sighed. “He surprised me with them. But he refused to tell me where he got them or how much they cost.”
“Why would he?”
“Because it’s not his money. It’s my mother’s money and I’m the head of her trust. He spent all the money she left him a long, long time ago. He could be sold on anything, and talked out of nothing. Of course, Mother knew that about him, and that’s why she didn’t leave the entire fortune to him.”
“I see.”
“He didn’t explain that to you?”
“No, he did not.”
She shook her head. “I wish I could say I was surprised by that. He really doesn’t understand that his money is gone.”
Jason took a deep breath. “In that case, I have a question I need to ask you—well, I need to ask Shayne.”
“You know, I don’t have a split personality.”
“Not a split personality. A dual personality. That’s a lot more common than you might think.”
“How many personalities do you have?”
“Oh, three. My psychiatrist assures us we’re perfectly normal,” Jason deadpanned. She didn’t respond right away; long enough that Jason felt compelled to add, “That was a joke. A bad joke. We know we’re not normal.”
She chuckled at that and playfully hit his arm, but the contact was brief and friendly. All the contact between them that evening had been just that—brief and friendly—and Jason quickly realized that she hadn’t invited him back for an encore performance of their first meeting. There had been an undeniable twinge of disappointment, but he shook it off, happy for the chance to spend more time with her.
“But, having said that, I do have a very serious question for Shayne.”
“Oh. You’re serious. Okay. I’m Shayne. I mean, I’m ready. What do you want to ask?”
“Knowing what I know now, I have to ask: is there any real chance that you will want to invest in Adventure Isle?”
Shayne took a deep breath and then shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not that you don’t have good ideas, it’s—”
Jason held up his hand. “It’s fine. We can discuss your reasons later, if you have any feedback to help me strengthen my pitch, but you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I do have a follow-up question for Mary, though.”
Her lips twitched with amusement. “Okay.”
“I really enjoy spending time with you. Would you go to the amusement park with me tomorrow?”
Mary took a thoughtful sip from her beer. Jason’s eyes slipped to the clock and he realized they’d been sitting there talking for over an hour already. “Like...a date?”
“Yes. Well, not like one. An actual date.”
“Does that mean there won’t be a surprise pitch?”
“A surprise pitch? No. A surprise kiss? Definitely.”
“It’s not a surprise if you warn me.”
Jason shrugged. “The timing will be.”
Mary stood, walked to the fridge, and opened a fresh beer. Jason couldn’t believe he was sitting on her couch, calmly waiting to find out if he’d lost the account—and the girl.
“Why are you just giving up on the investment?” she asked.
“The terms changed,” Jason answered. “You had no interest in investing your mother’s money in an amusement park before you met me. I’d rather cut my losses professionally if there’s any chance you’d still like to see me in a personal capacity.”
“I would. Like to see you personally.”
Jason smiled, so relieved that he didn’t even process the disappointment of losing his only lead on an investor. There were other people with money in the world, but she was the only person who made him feel warm from the inside out.
“Good. Great, actually.” He felt almost giddy and he wondered if it would be appropriate to touch her. He wanted to kiss her again, but he would settle for a brief hug, or holding her hand or something as ridiculously simple as that. She stepped out of reach before he could make up his mind, gesturing for him to follow her, and lead him down the hall.
“This is the guest room. The bathroom is right here to the left. And uh, what time would you like your wake-up call?” She seemed a little flustered and couldn’t quite meet his eye. Did she think he would be upset by being put in the guest room?
“Well, I’d like to take you to breakfast. Wake me at eight, we’ll hit the road by nine?”
Her demeanor shifted and she nodded. “Perfect. The bathroom’s right there if you need it.”
“To the left.” Jaso
n smiled. “Got it.”
Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink and she muttered something about laundry and scurried away. Jason stood there for another beat, wondering if that meant he had no choice but to turn in for the night. He would have liked to spend a little more time chatting with her—well, he wanted to do more than chat. And maybe she sensed that, and that’s why she ushered him to his room.
The room itself was nicely made-up with a comfortable bed. There were a few framed photographs, but no other touches of anything personal. The closet had some winter gear; the dresser drawers were empty. Jason had only a small overnight bag—one he kept packed in his car with a change of clothes and a toothbrush in case of an emergency. This wasn’t the first time his travel bag had come in handy. He dug out his toothbrush and opened his bedroom door, only to find Mary standing right there.
“Oh!” She jumped and the color in her cheeks deepened. “I uh, was going to ask if you needed anything.”
“Towel?”
“There are some in the bathroom.”
“Toothpaste?”
“Bathroom.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
“Okay, well, if you need anything else, I’ll just be in my room.” She pointed to the door at the end of the hall and once again hurried away like she couldn’t wait to escape him. It would almost be enough to make him second-guess himself, but she already told him she was interested in spending more time with him. Maybe she was just shy? Though what she had to be shy about now, he had no idea.
The bathroom was as neat and tidy as the rest of the house, and he found the toothpaste in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. He relied on muscle memory to complete the ritual, his mind still on Mary. In fact, he was so preoccupied by thoughts of her that when she knocked on the door, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
“One moment!” He quickly rinsed his mouth and wiped his face dry, opening the door to find she’d changed into a long T-shirt, baggy enough to obscure the curve of her breasts, but short enough to give him a nice view of her legs. He was thankful that he’d kept his pants on and wasn’t standing there in his boxers, half-erect at the sight of her, but he’d taken his shirt off, and her attention seemed to be stuck on his bare chest.
