by Kait Nolan
Cam saw her reach toward him, as if to lay her hand over his, then stop. “Well, I am that. I love Wishful. I always have. If I can do something to preserve it, I absolutely will. But we have to have a plan for that. I’ll do some research, see if there happens to be some kind of smoking gun of bad press on GrandGoods, but chances are there won’t be. We need to be prepared to give the town an alternative.”
“An alternative?”
“Part of why GrandGoods is going to be so appealing is because it’s something different from the status quo. If they have no other options, people will make the shitty choice just because it’s there.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Burgess—the City Planner—has always had this tendency to over-emphasize industrial recruiting. I understand that. It’s the loss of industry that got us into this financial state to start with, but in all of his efforts to woo companies into coming here, he pays almost no attention to improving the quality of life in the community. Prosperous small town economies are built on the foundation of strong communities. We’ve lost so much in the last decade, and part of that is community spirit. But we only have two weeks. I have no idea what we could do in that span to remind people of that, let alone give them a true economic alternative. We have virtually no resources, little support. And as much as I believe you are Wonder Woman, I don’t know if even you can pull this off.”
“Have a little faith, Cam, and people might surprise you.”
“I’ll do my best.” But he was afraid faith, like allies, was in very short supply.
~*~
The streets of downtown Wishful were all but empty, shrouded in winter quiet. In another hour or so, the get to school and work hustle would begin, and businesses would open for another day. For now, it was just Cam and the silence of the green, exactly as he liked it. Even in the winter, it felt like a postcard of his own little slice of paradise. He’d fight tooth and nail to keep it that way.
Wanting to stretch his legs, he parked across the green and walked the couple of blocks to his destination. With the nursery being somewhat out from town, he made it a point to drive in and patronize other local businesses at least once most days. He considered it good for the local economy and part of his job as a City Councilman to be visible and social—connected to his constituents. As he was bound for City Hall, he set his sights on The Daily Grind and a caffeinated form of olive branch to hopefully smooth his way.
As soon as he stepped through the door, Cassie Callister called out, “Just the man I wanted to see! Do a girl a favor and give me the scoop on this proposed store before Mama Pearl hears.”
Being one of the two major gossip hubs of town, Cassie and the staff of The Grind were in a constant competition with Mama Pearl at Dinner Belles to be the first to know anything worth knowing. Given the general consensus that Mama Pearl was somehow psychic—Violet swore to it on a stack of Bibles—Cam was pretty sure she was in a perpetual lead.
“Do I even want to know who got the gossip train moving on this?”
Cassie grinned. “You know I never reveal my sources.”
“Hook me up with a straight Americano, a white chocolate mocha, and whatever Avery’s go to is this month, and I’ll consider it.”
“I’m on it. All to go?”
“Yep.”
While she bustled behind the counter, Cam scoped out the handful of other patrons. A few familiar faces, but nobody that sent up red flags that he should keep his mouth shut, so as Cassie handed over his coffee, he said, “We’ve had a formal proposal by GrandGoods for store development.”
Cassie made a face. “Homogenized, big bulk, over processed, sweat shop supporting robots.”
“Then you’ll want to be at the Chamber of Commerce meeting later this week to get in on the ground floor of things.”
“Ooo, are we staging a protest? A picket line? A sit in?”
He chuckled, thinking Cassie was born in the wrong decade. “I think the expert helping out has some other ideas.”
“Well count me in. When and where, my friend?”
“Not sure just yet. Soon. I’ve still gotta book the community center, but I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”
“I’ll be there with bells on.”
As it was early yet, Cam made his way down Main Street without the usual stop and greet that would’ve tripled his time. The guard’s station at the front desk of City Hall was empty. Old Jerry Noble wouldn’t be on duty until the hall officially opened at eight. Cam bypassed the metal detector and headed up the stairs to his mother’s office on the second floor.
Avery looked up as he came in. “She’s been here since seven.”
“Thought she might be.” He held out the double shot espresso.
“Bless you.” She dropped her voice as she took the proffered coffee. “She’s in a mood.”
“Afraid I’m not gonna be helping that.”
“I figured as much.”
“Ah well, forewarned is forearmed.”
“For what it’s worth, we’re both on your side.”
“Thanks for that.” He rapped on the door, lifting a brow at the curt invitation before he stepped inside.
His mother looked up from the desk. “Don’t you start on me, Campbell. I’m already having a lousy morning.”
Cam revised his strategy. “Who’s starting something? I’m just here bearing legal stimulants and checking in before I head out to the nursery for the day.” He passed her the caffeine and sugar bomb he knew she loved but would never order for herself. “What’s wrong?”
“Chief Curry just submitted his resignation, pending the hire of a replacement.”
“He what?” Robert Curry had been Chief of Police in Wishful since…forever. Which, now that Cam thought about it, might be the why.
“He wants to retire, damn him. Like we need more change right now. I told him we’d take it under advisement, but we have to do a nationwide search and that takes time.”
“He doesn’t think anyone in the department is up to the task?”
“There’s one person who will probably apply, but a nationwide search is the only way to do things fairly and be certain we have the best candidate. Either way, it has to wait until this GrandGoods thing is settled. Now go ahead and spit out whatever it is you came here to say about it.”
Cam kept his face impassive.
“Don’t take that innocent face with me, young man. It didn’t work when you were five and it won’t work now. I’m sure you and Norah came up with something to make my life difficult during your powwow last night.”
No, the difficulty Norah presented the night before had nothing to do with his mother.
“We are not out to make your life difficult, Mom.”
“You’re going to put me in a position to play referee between you and Vick Burgess, even though I technically agree with you, because I have to be the mayor, not your mother, if I want the decision to be accepted by the public. That makes my life difficult.”
Too restless to sit, Cam stood and began moving around her office. “If Norah’s plan works, the public is going to be on our side and this isn’t going to come down to a brawl—metaphoric or otherwise—between me and Vick.”
Sandra gave a wary look. “And what exactly is her plan?”
“Garner public support for a ‘no’ vote by educating them on the true impact of big box stores.”
“And you think people will listen to her as an outsider?”
He picked up the photo of the old Hoka Theater in Oxford and put it back again. “She’s less outsider than this representative from GrandGoods. A lot of people know her through Miranda, since she’s been coming here so many years. You’ve met her. What do you think?”
“I look at her and I see her father.”
Whatever he’d expected her to say, that wasn’t it. “You know her dad?”
“By reputation. Her father was a fraternity brother of your dad’s.”
Cam jolted at that. Having lived his entire l
ife in Mississippi, he knew the whole state was one big small town, and there were seldom more than a couple of degrees of separation between people. But a connection between Norah’s dad and his own? That was…unexpected.
“What was he like?”
“Joseph Burke was a shooting star. I’ve known very few people as brilliant, driven, or unyieldingly competitive. He was the guy everybody knew on campus, partly because he was student body president, and partly because that’s just who he was. He spoke and people listened. He’s a gifted orator. Once he left Ole Miss, he went on to Harvard Law.”
Exactly the kind of man his father would envy.
“Norah’s very like him in a lot of ways.”
Cam couldn’t argue with that description, and yet he saw so much more in her than that. And judging by the tilt of his mother’s head, as if she hadn’t quite finished her thought, she saw something else too.
“I sense a ‘but’ in there.”
“But, I don’t think he’d do what she’s doing.”
“Which part? Working pro bono?”
“Working on this at all. Everything Joseph did was to get the hell out of Mississippi. He was never satisfied being a big fish in a small pond. He wanted to be a big fish in an ocean. The kind of man who wanted to save the world—and get credit for it.”
Perhaps Norah’s dad had more in common with Cam’s after all.
“From what she’s said about him, he’s been exceptionally successful at that. But Norah’s not like that.”
“No, I don’t think she is. I don’t think she’d have stayed friends with Miranda, kept coming back here all these years if she was.”
“She has no financial stake in the decision, so less reason to be biased. I think that’s in our favor.”
“She seemed pretty biased to me.”
“No more than I am. She got a really raw deal. And nothing anybody can say will convince her that she didn’t personally have a hand in destroying that other town.”
“Shouldering all that responsibility.” Sandra shook her head. “Reminds me of someone else I know.” She lifted a meaningful brow at him.
Cam shrugged. “Apple. Tree.” He pointed a finger at his chest, then at her.
“True enough. Now what is it you really want this morning?” Her manner relaxed, and Cam knew the brief diversionary conversation had been the right move.
“I think we should commission an independent economic impact study. Bring in an expert who doesn’t have a horse in this race to look at the local economy and actually project what GrandGoods will do to it, good or bad. It will help us all make a more informed decision.”
“That seems completely logical. Why bring this directly to me?”
“Because I figure it stands a better chance of happening if it comes from you. You can strong arm Vick where I can’t if he kicks up a fuss.”
“I hate how much of this job is making other people play nice.”
“You had plenty of practice corralling me and the cousins over the years.”
She fixed him with a gimlet eye. “I could ground all of you.”
Cam grinned.
“I’ll set up a meeting.” She dialed Vick’s extension, obviously surprised when he answered after the second ring. Cam checked his watch. Not yet eight. Vick was getting a bright and early start after his apparent success at last night’s Council meeting. Sandra asked him to come up for a quick chat.
“Should I vamoose?”
“No need for that.”
Vick was all smiles when he strode in a few minutes later. He opened his mouth, ostensibly to spew some effusive pleasantries, but Sandra cut him off, back to the curt irritation she’d displayed when Cam had arrived.
“I’ll be brief. Before things go any further on the GrandGoods proposal, I want an economic impact study conducted. Paid for by the city, conducted by an independent agent with no ties to GrandGoods. This project is significantly different from any of the proposals we’ve entertained before, and I want to make absolutely certain we proceed with as much information as possible.”
“I think that’s a very sensible suggestion, Sandra. I’d be happy to get right on that this morning and compile a list of possible contractors.”
His ready agreement threw Cam. Where was the antagonism? The arguments against slowing the process?
“That would be great. I’ve got a full plate sorting through other things today.”
With another of those used car salesman grins, Vick walked right back out.
“There. That was relatively painless, for once.”
Painless and Vick didn’t go together. “I don’t trust him. He never agrees to anything that easily.”
“I take it as a sign he’s trying to play nice. I suggest you do the same. Now skedaddle on to work yourself. I’ve got work to do.”
Chapter 9
“—The Council has agreed to a delay of the vote until receipt of the economic impact study, so we’ve got a bit of a reprieve until the report comes back.” Cam’s announcement to the twenty or so members of the Chamber of Commerce scattered on the bleachers of the community center was met with grim focus.
Norah could work with that. What she wasn’t sure she could continue to do was work with Cam. He hadn’t pushed, hadn’t guilted, hadn’t even alluded to their brief relationship. But compartmentalizing what she felt for him was taking more than half the energy she needed to be devoting to the campaign. She could usually lose herself in the work, but seeing him day in, day out was slowly driving her mad.
Realizing he was done introducing her, Norah took his place up front, already refining her pitch, shifting from training to instinct. “Usually how this works is I’d go with all the glitz and glam, lay out my credentials and awards to establish myself as the resident expert before launching into my pitch. But this isn’t a boardroom and y’all don’t care about that. Most of you don’t know me. Those who do probably know little more than my connection to the Campbell family. So here’s what you need to know in a nutshell: I may not be from here, but I love this town, and I don’t want to see it desecrated by GrandGoods or any other corporate giant seeking to come in and carve out a place without consideration of the community at large. I have the skill set, the time, the passion, and the commitment to see that that doesn’t happen.”
She paused a few beats, noting body language as some, like Tyler and the sweet-faced brunette who ran the pharmacy, leaned forward, engaged. Mama Pearl folded both arms across her ample bosom, her strangely ageless face set in lines of skepticism. Norah had faced tougher crowds.
“But I can’t fight this war alone. And make no mistake—this is a war. GrandGoods and all they represent are a threat to the culture and way of life here. Your City Planner would have you believe otherwise.”
She turned and rotated the markerboard Cam had dragged in for her before the meeting so they could see the list she’d made. “Mr. Burgess would have you believe that GrandGoods will create jobs. Obviously, with Wishful’s economy being in its current state, that would be a great thing. If it were true. In fact, studies by independent economists prove that big box stores eliminate more retail jobs than they create. And the jobs they do create tend to be part time, low wages, with no benefits.” She drew a line through the first myth and moved on to the second. “He says GrandGoods will boost local tax revenue. That’s a big catch-22. Whatever tax benefits GrandGoods may provide will be negated by the cost of providing public services like roads, additional miles of utilities, more of a drain on fire and police time. Not to mention that cities that approve big box development often experience a decline in property and sales tax revenue from existing local businesses. That would be all of you.” She crossed another line off.
“He’ll tell you that GrandGoods will grow the economy, when, in fact, chains like them actually shrink the volume of activity in the local economy. As local business owners, you hire more local workers, purchase more goods and services from other local businesses, and contribute more t
o local charities than a big box counterpart would.” Another strike out. “GrandGoods is supposed to bring competition and choice for the consumer. But what competition will remain when they edge you out of business? A town this size cannot reasonably absorb a store of that scale without considerable revenue losses to existing businesses. And there’s absolutely no guarantee of quality or customer service.” She axed that one from the list and drew a circle around the remaining myth she intended to bust.
“Perhaps most important, they’re going to tell you that GrandGoods and other big box stores like it are the only option for saving your flagging economy. Mr. Burgess is focused on big industry, big box stores, big solutions to an understandably big and intimidating problem. And a lot of people think like he does. But the fact is, there are other solutions. Solutions that will protect and enhance your businesses and create a climate that will appeal to entrepreneurs seeking viable locations for small business investment.”
A hand shot up from the back row. Sandy hair with purple streaks. The owner of The Daily Grind.
“Yes Cassie?”
“That all sounds great, but it also sounds like a really long-term kind of project. Even with a few weeks’ reprieve from a decision about GrandGoods, how can we possibly make enough of a difference to stop it?”
“You’re right.” Norah nodded. “You’re absolutely right. It is a long-term kind of project. And I tell you that because I want to give y’all a hint of the bigger picture. But our goal—I think we’re all agreed on this—is to stop GrandGoods. In order to do that, we need to sway the decision makers to say no. That means the rest of the City Council.”
“And how are we gonna do that?” Mama Pearl demanded.
Norah let her smile spread wide. “You’re going to do what you do best. Share your wisdom with anybody and everybody who comes in your door.”
There was a ripple of laughter at that. One corner of Mama Pearl’s generous mouth quirked up. Her approximation of a grudging smile.
