Thomas Kinkade's Cape Light

by Katherine Spencer

  “But I already turned it down.” Zoey couldn’t hide her frustration. “They probably gave the spot to someone else by now.”

  Charlie pulled out his cell phone, pushed his glasses on, and started dialing the center, reading the phone number off the very fine print on the letter. “I’ll call them right now and tell them your plans changed.”

  Lucy checked her watch. “Do you think the place is still open?”

  Zoey knew it was. There were plenty of parents who had to work a full day on Saturday, even if it was New Year’s Eve.

  “If it’s closed, we can leave a message. Maybe they didn’t fill the spot. And if they did, maybe they’ll take you, too,” her father said. “Never hurts to ask.”

  Zoey heard the line ring and felt mortified. She couldn’t let her father speak for her, as if she were an immature high school kid. She snatched the phone away, then walked as far as possible from her parents.

  Beth Foster, the woman who had interviewed her, answered. Zoey quickly explained why she was calling.

  Ms. Foster heard her out and took a moment before she replied. “We did offer the placement to another candidate, Zoey. But I was very sorry that you couldn’t accept. I think, under the circumstances, we can take two interns this winter. Why don’t you come in on Monday and we’ll figure it out? There’s an orientation from nine to three.”

  “Thank you so much. I’ll be there. Thank you, Beth.” She turned to her parents, who both looked very nervous, waiting to hear the answer.

  “Ms. Foster told me to come in on Monday. They might be able to use two interns.”

  Charlie walked over and hugged her. “What did I tell you? Persistence wins the day.”

  Of course her father would have a corny motto to mark the occasion. Not quite her story, but Zoey didn’t argue. She was too happy.

  Lucy hugged her, too. “I’m glad I grabbed the broom today. Please don’t keep things from us, honey. Even if you think it’s for our own good?” She stood back and caught Zoey’s eye. “We’re certainly not perfect parents, but we always want the best for you. Please trust in that. We love you so much.”

  “I know,” Zoey said, hugging her back. “It’s totally mutual.”

  * * *

  “I’m glad we got here early. Not a seat left in the house.” Emily’s mother had to shout to be heard above the din in Village Hall. She gazed around at the standing-room-only crowd with an astonished expression. “Quite a turnout for the day after New Year’s. I hope Bates can keep things under control. Though I doubt he’s learned his lesson.”

  “Never mind Bates. I hope the crowd bodes well for our side,” Ezra said.

  “I do, too. But it’s hard to say,” Emily answered honestly.

  She had expected high attendance at this meeting, the first of the new year. The open-space group had been working hard to encourage their members to make their voices heard tonight. Their opponents had apparently done the same.

  Charlie and the council entered through a side door and took seats at the long table in the front of the room. Emily noticed that Charlie had his gavel handy again.

  “Welcome, everyone,” he began. “Thanks for coming out tonight. It’s another cold one out there, but at least we all have our heat on, and we can put that ski underwear away for a while. That storm does make you grateful for the little things.” A few people laughed, including Ezra, earning a sharp look from Lillian.

  “First up on the agenda tonight, the proposal for new zoning. Town residents will have the opportunity to vote this law onto the books at a special election . . .”

  He paused to put on his reading glasses and glanced down at a binder that was open on the table in front of him. Emily recognized it—the town bylaws. At least the bylaws would be handy when the open-space group made their move. She spotted Martin Becker sitting on the edge of his chair, a sheaf of papers in his lap, looking like a tiger about to spring on his prey.

  “The bylaws state that a special election can be called by a majority of the council within forty-five days of the motion passing.” Charlie looked up at the audience. “I open the floor to comments. But I’m warning all of you, if it gets disorderly in here, the council will vote. Whether you all had your say or not.”

  “He’s a megalomaniac,” Lillian muttered. “He’s going to force this through, no matter how many people object.”

  “Calm down, Mother. Let’s just listen.” Lillian knew the openspace group had come with a plan to derail their opposition, but Emily had not divulged the details to her—or to anyone, except for Dan. It was vital that their plan did not get out and give the zoning group a chance to counter it.

  George Krueger was the first at the microphone. “The residents of Cape Light want closure on this question. We need to put it to a vote, the sooner the better. I say the council votes on the motion and we set a date for the village to vote.”

  Fran Tulley was the next in line. “I agree with George. Most of us voted you in on this question, Charlie. We’d like to see you move along with your promises and vision for the village.”

  Her mother made a huffing sound. “Of course she would say that. She’s just seeing dollar signs, all those big properties on the Beach Road broken up and sold to builders.”

  Ezra shook his head. “Doesn’t look good for our side. Oh dear, what a night.”

  Emily felt bad, seeing him so distressed, but Martin Becker was next at the microphone. She touched Ezra’s arm. “Look, it’s Martin. Don’t worry. He’s got something up his sleeve.”

  “Well, it better be good,” Lillian whispered back.

  “Mayor Bates, town council members, I’m speaking for the residents who oppose new zoning laws, those who joined the open-space group and signed the petitions we’ve presented to you.”

  “We know who you are, Marty,” Charlie said. “Just get on with it. We don’t have all night.”

  “All right. Here’s a letter from the county, signed by the county executive, the county zoning supervisor, and the county’s supervisor of environmental impact.” Martin held the letter up, displaying the bold stamp of the county on the letterhead. “I won’t bother to read it aloud, but it’s an order to the town council to freeze this question for twenty-four months so that a full review by an independent group can be conducted.”

  “What do they think they’re going to review?” George Krueger interrupted.

  “They’ll be looking at the effects of the new zoning proposal on the area’s infrastructure and environment, and particularly the impact on wildlife and the local ecosystem.”

  Charlie looked dumbfounded. Then his eyes narrowed. “That’s a lot of official signatures, Marty. Congratulations. But what does the county have to do with our business? We’re an incorporated village. We run our own show here.”

  “I understand,” Martin said. “However, there is a bylaw in our village constitution that supports this action. I have a copy of that as well. In fact, an attorney at the county supervisor’s office has also written a letter explaining that this is fully within their powers.”

  Emily watched Charlie’s confident expression melt. He stood up and held out his hand. “Can I see that, please?”

  “Of course. I have copies for each of you.” Martin walked up to the table and handed out the letter. He turned to the audience.

  “We also have copies for residents. If anyone would like one, please raise your hand.”

  Every hand in the room went up, and the noise level suddenly rose. “Ho, ho! Way to go, Marty!” Ezra laughed and slapped his knee. “What a brilliant maneuver!”

  Lillian gave Emily a squinty stare. “A well-intentioned man. But I see the handiwork of a master here. This is your doing, Emily, isn’t it?”

  “I knew about it, but I couldn’t tell anyone, Mother. Sorry.”

  “From the sound of it, you not only knew, you were the o
ne who cooked this up. What does Martin Becker know of village bylaws?”

  Emily smiled but didn’t reply. “Look, the mayor is ready to speak. Let’s be quiet.”

  Charlie had been in a huddle with the council members, their hands covering their microphones as they frantically whispered to each other. Carl Nelson, the village attorney, began searching the bylaws.

  While Martin handed out information packets to the audience, Art Hecht walked up to the microphone. He waved his copy of the letter from the county.

  “This is a load of baloney. It’s our town, and we can do what we want without a bunch of county bureaucrats butting into our business.” He looked up at Charlie and the town council. “Are you really going to give in to this without a fight?”

  Charlie had returned to his seat, his back ramrod straight, his expression grim. He banged his gavel for the first time that evening.

  “I understand you’re upset, Art. But let’s tone it down a notch. Carl Nelson has just looked over the letter and checked the bylaws up here. It appears that this action is within the rights of the county, and our village must abide by this directive.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” someone else shouted out.

  Carl, the town attorney, leaned forward to speak. “This is not a request we can argue or fight. Not without the village taking the county to court, where we would probably lose and spend a great deal of money and also tie up this question for much longer than twenty-four months. The bylaws are very clear. I advise the town to comply.”

  “I agree with Carl,” Charlie said. “And so does the rest of the council. We accept these documents into the minutes. The proposal for new zoning is tabled for twenty-four months, for a period of review, as so directed in this letter.”

  Charlie tapped his gavel. It wasn’t exactly a bang, Emily noticed. She watched him shake his head, then scan the audience, his eyes finally finding her. She stared back at him and shrugged.

  To her surprise, he smiled. It was the smile one would grant a worthy opponent across a battlefield. Emily smiled back.

  “Twenty-four months? That’s just enough time for a new mayor to come in,” someone shouted out.

  “You never know what’s going to happen, fellas. This is politics,” Charlie said. He cleared his throat and checked the agenda. “On to the next item. The town has finally signed a contract with K&B Carting . . .”

  “That is enough time for a new mayor to come in. Or an oldie but goodie,” Lillian murmured.

  “Not a chance, Mother,” Emily replied, though she did feel very happy and relieved to see the plan had worked.

  “You say that now. But you’ve saved the village from certain disaster. From complete extinction, actually. Word will get out. They’ll want you back, mark my words.”

  Word would get out if her mother had anything to do with it. But Emily had no time to get into this conversation again.

  “I’ve got to go, Mother. Jessica and Sam will take you home. They’re sitting across the room. We’ve already arranged it.”

  “Yes, I noticed them there. All right, you run along. Your work is done here.”

  “Good show, Emily. You should be very proud,” Ezra added in a hushed tone. Emily touched his arm and thanked him as she slipped out of her seat and headed for an exit at the back of the room.

  Once outside, she walked quickly down Main Street and met Dan and Jane at the Beanery.

  “Did we win, Mom?” Jane greeted her.

  “Yes, honey. This time, I think we did. I think the entire village won, for years to come.”

  “Someday, even Charlie will agree with that,” Dan said.

  “You never know. Stranger things have happened,” Emily replied.

  “Well, we’re very proud of you, Jane and I,” Dan said, glancing at his daughter. “I know I put up a fuss when you started to help that group, but I can see now it was very important and your help made all the difference.”

  “Thank you, honey. That’s nice of you to say. But I know why you felt upset, both of you. I promise not to get carried away on any more causes. Honestly.”

  Dan took her hand. “But that’s just the point, Emily. That’s who you are. I was wrong to ask you to change totally. I know you’re still trying to figure things out, to find your way after being mayor for so long. But we wouldn’t want you any different.”

  “He’s right, Mom,” Jane agreed. “You wouldn’t be you.”

  Emily suddenly felt as if she might cry. “I don’t want to be mayor again, so you don’t have to worry about that. But I probably will be drawn to causes and issues from time to time. I guess I can’t help that,” she admitted.

  “As long as it’s occasional, I won’t object. And as long as it doesn’t interfere with any vacation plans.” Dan checked his watch. “Which reminds me, we’d better get moving, or we’ll miss the talk.”

  Emily linked her arm in his as they left the café. Jane trailed alongside, toting a knapsack of schoolbooks and her laptop. They were headed for the library, where Emily and Dan were going to attend a presentation on ecotourism, to help plan their trip, and Jane was going to work on a research project.

  Emily felt lighthearted, as if a load had been lifted. She was not only happy about the outcome of the zoning question but also relieved to put aside politics and focus on her family. They needed her love and attention as much as the village of Cape Light did. Even more.

  No matter what her mother said, or how much she goaded or stroked Emily’s ego, Emily was sure she would never want to be mayor again. But she could see now that she still wanted to serve and help. She always would. It was part of her DNA. These sideline efforts would never be the same as “running the show,” as Charlie liked to say. But Emily thought now they might even be better.

  * * *

  On the Tuesday after New Year’s, Zoey woke up and realized that James was gone. He had taken off for his new life in South America. Well, at least she, too, had a sort-of-new life, working at the center. It was a relief to be out of the diner, which just reminded her of him. She felt an aching emptiness deep inside—and regretted that she had not gotten in touch after their argument.

  But he never made a move to get in touch with you, she reminded herself as she finally got out of bed. Which probably means he didn’t want any big farewell scene, either. Maybe this is the best way for both of us. Sophie must be wondering what happened, but she probably understands.

  Zoey didn’t need to be at the center until noon, and Sophie had left a message on her cell phone Sunday, saying she had big news to share and asking Zoey to stop by sometime.

  Zoey decided to stop at the orchard on her way to Beverly. She had been avoiding James since Christmas Eve, and the result was that she had also avoided her dear friend. Sophie needed her support now more than ever, with her move coming up. And Zoey planned to be there for her—now that the coast was finally clear to visit.

  Zoey hadn’t even told Sophie yet about the internship. She could hardly wait to see her friend’s reaction.

  She pulled up the bumpy private road and parked at the side of the house, behind Bella. She had just gotten out of her car when Mac raced out of the barn, barking and wagging his tail. Zoey expected to see Sophie follow. And saw James instead.

  She felt shock and something else—something that was a lot like happiness. But she quickly covered over both reactions with what she hoped was a neutral expression.

  “Hey, Zoey. Are you all right? You look a little pale. Like you just saw a ghost.”

  She lifted her chin, determined to keep her composure and not look as if she cared so much. It’s just as well to run into him, she decided. It’s probably better to say good-bye and take this chance to talk things out, if we can.

  “I’m just surprised to see you. Weren’t you supposed to leave yesterday?”

  “Well, my plans changed. I got a
n offer to work on a different farm.” He came closer and stood with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, his blue gaze fixed on her in a way she found unnerving.

  “Is this another farm in Peru? Or that one in Chile you were talking about?”

  “Actually, it’s right here, in New England. It’s not exactly a farm yet. It’s an orchard, but new people are taking over, and they want to grow vegetables and herbs, and increase the honey production, too.”

  Zoey didn’t understand at first. Then she thought he had to be teasing her. She squinted up at him. “You mean, this orchard?”

  “I do.” He looked as if he wanted to laugh but was trying hard not to.

  “How can that be? Did Sophie find a buyer already? I didn’t even know she put it up for sale. But she left me a message that she had some big news.”

  “It’s big news, all right. You know my grandma. She has her own way of doing things. She found this young couple, the Quinns. They live down the road, and they just happened to be shopping around for an orchard.” James laughed and shook his head. “But she’s keeping the house, and she’s going to stay here. With a live-in companion. And I’m going to stay here, too.”

  “You are?” Zoey’s eyes grew wide. She blinked, not knowing if she wanted to laugh or cry.

  “The Quinns offered me a job. And I decided to take it.”

  Zoey was so amazed by that news, she could hardly breathe. She looked out at the trees, then back at James. “I don’t understand. Are you sure this is what you really want? Traveling around and having new experiences . . . that was your dream. I didn’t mean to belittle it, either, when we had that fight. I said a lot of mean things on Christmas Eve. Things I wish I could take back now. I’m so sorry—”

  “I’m sorry, too, Zoey.” He met her gaze with a solemn look. “I should have gotten in touch with you and apologized. But I had some real thinking to do.”

  “Me, too.” She had to summon her courage for what came next. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad to hear that you’re staying, James. But you had your heart set on traveling. I don’t understand what’s made you change your mind. I’d hate to think it was anything I said.”