by Annie Jones
He exhaled and shook his head. “No. No, I’m not.”
Moxie went to him and gave him a hug. “I didn’t think so.”
“I am not my family business.” He folded his arms around her and rested the side of his face against her hair. “I love them, but my working with them neither defines the quality of job, the significance of our relationships or me as a person.”
Moxie pulled away, just enough to look him in the eye again and smile. “I love my family but I’m my own person. Who would have thought to look at you and me that we’d both need to learn the same lesson?”
“Spoken like someone who had the faith I could learn.” He kissed her lightly. “Of course, that doesn’t save the Sun Times, you know.”
She touched his cheek. “You’ll get those advertisers back.”
“Maybe.” He shook his head. “But what do I do about the places that have closed shop recently? Some of them I can’t replace. Others won’t be running any ads until they see if we get enough snowbird traffic this winter to make it worth their while to open again.”
“We?”
“Hmm?”
“You said ‘we.’ Until they see if ‘we’ get enough snowbird traffic.”
“I meant the town, Santa Sofia.”
“Of which you have already begun to feel a part…of.” The grammar evaded her but neither she nor Hunt could escape from the truth. “After just a short time here in sweet, idyllic Santa Sofia, you consider this home, or at least a home away from home.”
“Home,” he murmured, seemingly trying it out.
“I hope I played a part in making you feel like…that…you…”
He kissed her again, saving her from a new grammatical entanglement—and involved her in quite another kind of entanglement altogether.
“Hunt! You shouldn’t do that.”
“I shouldn’t?” He looked worried.
She laughed lightly. “Not in your office, silly. And after that big talk about people in a small town being synonymous with their workplace? What would people think?”
“That I’ve just met the most terrific girl in the world?”
When he’s the right one, you know.
“About your business,” she reminded him. “What kind of association would people make with you and the paper if they caught us in here kissing?”
“Maybe it won’t matter, if we can’t keep the place of business open.”
“Exactly!” She stepped back and straightened her white cotton shirt and smoothed her hand down her blue-and-white striped skirt. “They will think the paper fell apart because you didn’t have your mind on your work.”
“Okay, okay.” He smiled. “I’ll get back to work. You had an article you wanted to submit?”
Moxie reached for the yellow pad that she had laid on his desk. “I don’t know.”
“Something wrong?”
“After all this talk about lost ads, I wonder…”
“What?”
“Maybe I should hold this for a few days and see if I can’t pin my sisters down to a wedding date—get all the info we can into the paper and out to the town while there’s still a paper to get out.”
“Wedding date? Singular?” he queried.
“Yeah. They plan to get married on the same date after the holidays. Probably the first week of January.”
“I’ve heard of that. A double wedding, right?”
“No, two weddings, each separate and significant but one right after the other.” Moxie flipped a page of the legal pad up and slipped free the pair of photos she had paper-clipped to the cardboard underneath. “See, Kate and Vince met on the beach, almost twenty years ago.”
He took their picture and studied it a moment.
“So they want to get married on the beach.” She handed him the photo of Travis and Jo. “Their future lies at the Traveler’s Wayside Chapel.”
“Which is on the beach.” He took the photo but his gaze lifted and fixed on Moxie. “Pretty convenient.”
“Yeah. Unless you are the single kid sister of two brides who each expect you to do maid of honor duties, including hosting showers, dealing with the throngs of media—” she gave him a grin and a wink “—and donning not one, but possibly two atrocious, froufrou hoop-skirted seafoam green or cotton-candy pink bridesmaid dresses.”
“That I’d like to see.”
“I’d invite you to be my date, but January?” She let out a long, soft whistle. “Sounds like a long way off in newspaper-not-going-belly-up time.”
He chuckled. “I’ll still be here.”
“You think the Sun Times—”
“I can’t say for sure.”
“You mean you might actually consider staying on in Santa Sofia even if the Sun Times folds?”
“Actually, if the Sun Times folds, I have a plan.”
“Tell me,” she insisted.
“Can’t.”
“Please?”
“Nope.”
“If you tell me, I’ll make sure you’re invited.”
“It’s on the beach in Santa Sofia. Everyone will be invited,” he reminded her.
“Okay, then, if you tell me, I’ll make sure you aren’t recruited to dress up in whatever getup they pick for groomsmen and be a party to all the foolishness.”
“Marriage foolishness? I didn’t think you’d feel that way.”
“I don’t. I have a lot of respect for marriage. I hope one day to be married myself.” To you, if things go well. She held her tongue on that matter while she continued to hold his gaze. “It’s the whole circus surrounding weddings that I don’t have much patience with.”
“You didn’t dream of being a bride as a kid?”
“No. As a kid I dreamt of…” She grew instantly somber as she said softly, “Of having a real family.”
“That’s the important thing,” he said, brushing her hair back off her temple. “Marriage is the first step in starting your own family.”
She lifted her face so that he could kiss her again but the sound of Peg coming through the hallway made them move apart. After the receptionist went past the half-open door, Moxie gave him a playful punch in the arm. “So whatcha doing this evening?”
“You offering to cook for me?”
“No. But I will try to see if I can make sure your meal comes out of the deep fat fryer that was most recently cleaned at the Bait Shack.”
“The Bait Shack. Pretty fancy digs. What’s the occasion?”
“Celebrating the engagements. Oh, and Gentry Merchant’s new job in Miami.”
“If I come…”
If? She hadn’t imagined he wouldn’t. “Uh-huh?”
“Do I have to pour the sweet tea?”
“Not if you tell me what your plans are.”
He worked his arm around the way a baseball pitcher might before taking the mound for a big game. “Hey, a little service never hurt anybody.”
The meal went great. Hunt did pour his share of sweet tea and ate his fill of fried food.
Billy J made an appearance, though Dodie made sure he did not jeopardize his health by whisking him off after the many rounds of toasts and family photos.
Jo and Travis, Kate and Vince, and Pera and Gentry all looked so happy.
Moxie wasn’t exactly miserable herself.
In fact, she so enjoyed Hunt’s company that she didn’t even notice Lionel’s arrival until Jo, who suddenly up and demanded that she and Kate go with her to the ladies’ room, pointed it out.
“I think he’s on a date,” Jo whispered when she got them all gathered outside the restroom door.
“How can you can tell?” Kate wanted to know, leaning on her cane and straining her neck to catch a peek.
“He didn’t wear his lab coat,” Moxie told them, waited a moment then joined them in a good-natured laugh. Then she, too, stole a look at the couple. “Is that one of the residents who pulls shifts at the Urgent Care Clinic sometimes?”
“Jealous?” Kate wanted to know.
“No, w
orried,” Moxie replied.
“About what?”
“That Lionel might fall for a lady doctor then want to cut her into the clinic, you know, keep it in the family, and in doing so squeeze you out.”
“First, it will take a long time before she’s got the financial resources to buy me out and second…maybe I will be ready for her to do just that,” Kate said.
“What? That sounds like…” Jo cut herself off after a sharp look from her big sister. She shifted her tone and tactic to finish, “…the old Katie talking.”
“Just the opposite. The old Katie never could settle, always thought something better could be found in the next job, the next relationship, the next town. But this Kate, she’s here to stay and who knows, maybe when it’s time for Lionel to get a new partner I’ll be ready to spend some time in my own home, raising my own family.”
“Oh, Kate!” Both Jo and Moxie hugged her. “That would be so wonderful.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Kate reassured them. “We’re a family now.”
Moxie stepped back. “We are a family, aren’t we?”
“We always have been.” Kate held Jo’s hand and stroked Moxie’s cheek.
“Well, then, you know what families do?”
Both sisters looked at her, confused.
“When someone needs us, we go.” She took each of them by one hand and gave a tug. “Let’s move this party to my dad’s house. Our family should really be together at a time like this.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
On the day after Christmas a twenty-four-page plus extra photo insert edition of the Santa Sofia Sun Times hit newspaper stands. In it, along with biographies of all past and present staff members, award-winning and sentimental favorite photos and the top news stories spanning the paper’s sixty-three-year history, was a letter from the editor.
To the Good People of Santa Sofia
R. Hunt Diamante
Sun Times editor
First and foremost I must say thank you to our subscribers and advertisers for the support you have given to this paper and to me personally. I will never forget how you have rallied around our cause. In doing so, you have restored my faith in the power of the fourth estate to touch people’s lives. You have convinced me once again of the basic human dignity and decency of those people who so often the tension-hungry pop media overlooks.
Next I want to thank not just my staff, but also to acknowledge everyone who ever worked on this fine enterprise. Your tireless efforts aimed at keeping the public informed despite every kind of obstacle from natural disaster to national syndication buyouts, through wartime, peace, prosperity and economic turmoil are among the noblest of uses of the power and influence of any form of media.
On a personal note, thank you to the friends and makeshift family that I have made here in this lovely town for helping me find my sense of direction and keep my sense of humor—even if they did convince me to lose my beard, which I still miss horribly. Thank you to Vince Merchant, a good friend and sounding board. To Travis Brandt, my new pastor and sometimes surfing buddy. To the Cromwell family and Billy J Weatherby, who fed me and gave me a home away from home—in other words, a real home. And to Maxine—y’all know who I mean. Nobody really thinks I would use this paper to post a written profession of my affections or my plans regarding her, do they? Besides, if anyone really has any questions about how I feel about that girl, just watch the way I look at her. ’Nuff said.
Last, I find myself in one of the most awkward and frustrating situations a newspaper man can encounter—being at a loss for words. It has been a long and winding road to this day. I wish I had some clever or breathtakingly wise words to impart that might stand forever as a monument to my skill as a writer and my passion for the people of this fine community. I just can’t think of anything more to say than thank you, Santa Sofia, you are the best.
It was the final edition of the Santa Sofia Sun Times.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
You are cordially invited…
“I think it should have said, ‘you are casually invited,’” Hunt whispered to Moxie as they stood as part of a small semicircle of onlookers gathered on the beach on a warm January afternoon watching Kate and Vince take their vows.
They had decided against the maid of honor and best man type of wedding, opting instead for their families to gather around them to all share in the moment. Kate wore a diaphanous dress in a warm white shade called candlelight. The gathered skirt ended five inches from her feet so it did not drag in the sand but also did not hide the purple cast on her foot from her latest surgery. It was classic in style with a gorgeous hand-embroidered and beaded belt. She wore daisies in her hair, and the biggest smile Moxie had ever seen on her tanned face.
Vince looked great, too, in canvas-colored jeans and a pale blue shirt with a smudge of chocolate cookie on the shoulder from holding Fabbie as they had all made their way to this spot.
“Sorry about not being more clear about what to wear,” Moxie whispered back to the man in the suit and tie…and shoes. The only person in attendance wearing any of those. “I thought you’d know that a wedding on the beach is always barefoot—especially if the bride is in a cast!”
“Guess the pages of my wedding etiquette book with that info on them were stuck together or something,” Hunt shot back.
She turned to him and smiled. “You are so cute.”
“I don’t feel cute. I feel overdressed.”
“Shh.” She patted his arm. “They’re taking their vows.”
Travis, who had railed a bit against the traditional wording of the service the couple chose, raised the book with the vows in it and began, “Do you, Kate—”
“Yes!”
“Finally!” Vince grinned.
The group laughed.
Travis was taken aback for only a second then embraced with gusto the way this pair was going to make the traditional vows their own.
“Vince?”
“Me, too. Um, I do.” He held both of Kate’s hands in his and never once let his gaze stray from hers as he asked, “Can I kiss the bride now?”
“Don’t you want to give your vows?” Travis asked.
“Of course, sure.” Vince nodded. “It’s just that we’re not kids who don’t know what we’re getting into. We love each other, we honor each other, we’re committed to one another. We’re a family.”
“And you said you couldn’t write your own vows.” Travis chuckled then turned to Kate. “You agree with everything he just said?”
“Absolutely, but I do want to add one thing.” She looked up at Vince and spoke with a new firmness as she promised, “I will never leave you. You are stuck with me. No running away on my part and if you try running yourself, I will follow you.”
“Fair enough.” Vince started to lean down to kiss her.
Travis stuck his hand out. “Hey, we’re not at that part yet.”
“Can we get to that part then? You know the quicker we get done with this, the quicker it’s your turn at this wedding thing and then…”
“Cake!” Jo intervened before her almost brother-in-law reminded everyone again that they all had honeymoon reservations.
The group laughed. Travis wrapped up the ceremony and they all moved to the chapel to do it all again, only with Travis and Jo. A few other attendees donned shoes for the event.
Jo was among the shoeless, however. It was symbolic, she said. And everyone felt moved by her choice when, after coming in from the sandy beach, the couple followed the example of Christ and washed off the feet of their guests before they entered the sanctuary.
Jo was lovely and Travis handsome. They took their vows in the quiet of twilight enveloping the chapel. By the end, they spoke their vows by candlelight so dim that they were only outlines to their guests. Outlines standing so close that they appeared as one form and it was clear they saw only one another, the glow of the candles and the gleam of the cross on the altar before them.
Dodi
e cried at both weddings and Billy J whooped both times he heard the pronouncement, “You are now husband and wife.” Adding the second time, “Two down, one to go!”
Moxie was mortified.
Hunt just laughed.
She tried not to read too much into that. After all, the paper had folded just ten days earlier and he still hadn’t divulged his plans.
“So what’s next for you?” became a familiar refrain at Billy J’s Bait Shack Seafood Buffet, where they naturally held the receptions.
Hunt always deflected the question amicably, making a joke or spinning an outrageous tale of what lay ahead for him that caught the listener up only until they realized he was giving them the plot of some adventure movie involving pirates and treasures!
By nine o’clock that evening the couples had made the dash to their respective cars and headed off for destinations unknown. Well, Dodie didn’t know them, which they insisted upon. Moxie knew but promised she’d never tell.
“So where are they going on their honeymoons?” Hunt held open the door of the Bait Shack so they could go back inside after the taillights of the decorated wedding cars had disappeared.
“I’ll tell you that if you’ll tell me what you plan to do now that the paper has folded.”
“I am going to tell your sisters how easily you gave them up, girl.” He shook his head.
“Hey, I’m the baby sister. I’m allowed a little brattiness, aren’t I?” She leaned in close, cornering him as he stood there with the open door at his back. “So tell me, what’s next?”
“If I haven’t told you now, after two months of dating, then—”
“Then it’s high time you did,” she concluded for him.
“You’ll figure it out soon enough,” he told her. “In fact, you should get a pretty good idea tomorrow morning when I come around to your office to ask you if you want to advertise in the Santa Sofia Home and Away Alternative Press Weekly.”
“The…You got a new job?” Moxie tried to picture the publication he’d mentioned. “Alternative, doesn’t that mean…?”
“Free.”
“What?”
“In this case it means free. It’s a free weekly aimed at locals and tourists.”