See You at Sunset

by V. K. Sykes

  “Care to wager which one of our stores will go down the crapper first?” Florence asked in an acid tone.

  Archer scowled. “I hardly think that’s—”

  “Is that anything more than a guess?” Micah interrupted.

  “We don’t guess a lot, Deputy,” Archer said. “We know the new ecoresort is going to bring a lot of tourists to Seashell Bay, and that kind of stimulus is going to have an economic ripple effect across the island.” He glanced behind him at the head table, where the selectmen were taking their seats. “And then there are the other projects.”

  Micah frowned. “What other projects?”

  “There’s nothing firm yet, but we’re connected, and we hear some investors are starting to look at Seashell Bay more favorably.”

  More development battles on the horizon? Micah sincerely hoped not.

  At the front, Chester cleared his throat. “Could everybody please take their seats?”

  “Nice to meet all of you,” Archer said. “Holly, I hope to see you again very soon.” He flashed her a smile and then hurried to the front.

  Micah took Beatrice’s hand and helped her into the seat next to Jessie. After Florence sat, he murmured in Holly’s ear, “I wouldn’t believe a word that smooth bastard says, so don’t let it get to you.”

  “What a tool,” she said in a disgusted voice.

  He couldn’t hold back a smile.

  She let out a weary sigh. “I just want all this to be over. At least then we’ll know where we stand.”

  “I know, babe. Whatever happens, you know I’m there for you, right?”

  Holly stared up at him, her beautiful eyes wide and full of emotion. “That’s one thing I’ve never doubted, Micah. Not for a moment.”

  Chapter 19

  We’re going straight to the decision on Night Owl’s application,” Chester said. “I doubt you folks will want to hang around to talk about awarding the brush-clearing contract, will you?”

  A handful of people chuckled, but it was clear to Holly that everyone in the hall was on edge.

  Florence, who was gripping Holly’s hand for dear life, was a wreck. Even the tranquilizers didn’t seem to be making much of a dent in her anxiety. Then again, she didn’t know for sure that her aunt was still taking them. Florence ferreted away all her pills in her bedroom. Holly had been tempted to check how many were left by rummaging around while Florence was downstairs, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to invade her aunt’s privacy. Snooping in the store’s financial files was one thing, but checking on the medications of a mentally sound seventy-year-old was quite another. Instead, Holly had restricted herself to asking Florence daily if she’d remembered to take all her pills.

  Yes, dear, thank you for making sure I don’t forget. And damned if the woman wasn’t a good enough actress that Holly was never quite sure if she was lying or not.

  “The question before us is whether to grant the building permit requested by Night Owl for Lot 87 on Island Road,” Chester said. “The application had already been judged to be in accordance with the requirements for Zone 1-B. However, the town’s bylaws grant the selectmen full discretion when it comes to approval regardless of zoning.”

  Holly narrowed her gaze on Chester. He looked as nervous as everyone else, which wasn’t a good sign.

  “It’s time to make a decision, so I’ll lead off the voting,” Chester said in a solemn voice. “Since I strongly believe that the majority of islanders are opposed to the construction of another store in Seashell Bay, I have to vote no.” He thumped back down into his chair and wiped his brow with a handkerchief.

  Florence exhaled a sigh. “Thank God.”

  Thor Sigurdsson stood up next. “I’ve heard a lot of loud voices and a lot of arguing, but I still can’t see any decent grounds for denying a permit for a project that meets our zoning requirements. So I vote yes.”

  Just great. The vote was starting to feel like some TV show where the producers kept the audience on the edge of their chairs until the very end. She studied Amos, trying to gauge his reaction to Thor’s announcement. But the old lobsterman remained stone-faced, his meaty, chapped hands clasped in front of him on the table.

  “Amos?” Chester prompted.

  Sighing, Amos hauled his rather squat bulk to his feet. Holly felt like she could hardly breathe. Beside her, Florence was perched on the edge of her chair, her eyes riveted on the man who would decide the issue. And maybe their fate.

  “Please, Amos. Please, God,” her aunt whispered.

  Amos turned his unhappy gaze on Miss Annie, sitting only a few feet away in the front row. “I’m sorry, Annie, but Thor is right. I have to vote yes too.”

  “Oh, no,” Florence cried, her body crumpling back against her seat.

  Holly wrapped her arm around her aunt’s shoulders and hugged her tight, trying to murmur some comforting words. Nobody in the hall cheered or applauded, but there were a good many groans.

  On the other side of Florence, Beatrice dropped her head and started to weep softly.

  “Bunch of damn idiots,” Jessie Jameson snapped as she hugged Beatrice.

  Miss Annie shot to her feet. “This is so wrong. You old fools can’t just ignore what the people want. If you can’t manage to do the right thing yourselves, you need to call a referendum on the issue right now. Let the people decide!”

  “Damn straight,” yelled Morgan, jumping up. “Let the people decide!”

  Micah leaned across the aisle, looking worried. “I think we should get your aunts out of here. Florence is pale as a sheet.”

  “Yes,” Holly said. She felt numb and more than ready to let him take charge. “Good idea.”

  When she tried to stand, Florence pulled her back down. “No, not yet, Holly. Referendum! Referendum!” she shouted. “Let the people decide!”

  At least a dozen others took up the cry. Calls for a referendum echoed around the meeting room.

  Chester stood again, holding up his hands for quiet. “Folks, folks. Please be reasonable. There can’t be a referendum every time we make a decision you don’t agree with. If you don’t like what we’re doing, then you can vote us out in the next election.” He tried to smile. “If any of us is so foolish as to run again.”

  “But it’ll be too late then, Chester,” Gracie Poole said in a disgusted voice.

  Holly heard a few muttered curse words around her. Although the decision sickened her, she hated the idea that another issue had again divided their usually tight-knit community.

  “Thanks for sticking up for your own, Thor Sigurdsson and Amos Hogan,” Florence called out bitterly. She turned to Holly. “Darned old fools. I’ve had enough of them. Let’s go.”

  As Holly grasped Florence’s arm, Micah stepped across the aisle. “Are you okay, Beatrice?” he asked.

  “I’m fine, Micah,” Beatrice sniffed, getting up. “Just see to Florence, please.”

  Micah nodded and took Florence’s other arm. “I’ll see you out to your car. You’re going to be just fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  Despite tonight’s wrenching setback, Holly still had some degree of confidence that the general store could survive if everyone stayed on track with her plan. But in the end, the final outcome would depend on Florence and Beatrice and their willingness to embrace change and a different kind of future. Because soon Holly wouldn’t be there anymore, and tonight more than ever, that reality left her sick with guilt.

  “How is Florence?” Micah asked, hovering at the foot of the stairs as Holly came down from her aunt’s room.

  “We got a tranquilizer into her, but she’s so… gray and worn looking,” she said. “And her breathing is still a bit labored too.”

  On the short drive home from the town hall, her aunt had been sweating and sucking air like she couldn’t get enough into her lungs. Micah had led them in his cruiser, and as soon as he saw Florence stumble out of the car, he’d wanted to call the paramedics. Florence had choked out a refusal, claiming s
he’d be perfectly fine after a little rest.

  He followed Holly into the kitchen. “I still think we should get the paramedics to check her over. They won’t mind coming out, even if it’s not a true emergency, and they can be here in ten minutes, tops. It’s just nuts to take chances.”

  “I agree, but when I said that, she yelled at me again.” Holly leaned back against the kitchen counter, her stomach in a knot. “She looks terrible, Micah. I’m really worried.”

  Micah made an exasperated sound and pulled out his cell phone. “Screw it. She can yell at me if she wants, but I’m not waiting around for her to have a heart attack.”

  Holly nodded. “Do it.”

  Micah punched a number into his phone. “Jessie, I’m at Florence’s place, and it’s not good. You guys need to come stat, okay?”

  He hung up and said, “Jessie’s already on her way to the fire hall to pick up the rig, and she’s calling the chief and one of the other EMTs. They’ll be here real soon.” He glanced at his watch.

  “Why is she calling the chief?” Holly asked.

  “So he’ll make sure the fire rescue boat is ready if they need to take her into Portland.”

  “Oh, of course.” She hated the idea of her aunt heading back to the hospital, but it might be for the best. “Jessie is awesome, isn’t she?”

  “That’s why I called her directly. It’s not protocol, but no one’s ever given me shit about it. And Jessie was just at the meeting with us, so I knew she wasn’t tied up. Florence trusts her too.”

  Micah always thought of everything. “I’m so glad you came back with us,” Holly said. “Thank you so much.”

  Micah smiled. “Not a problem. You know how I feel about your aunts.” Then his smile faded. “And about you.”

  Micah stood in the fire rescue boat’s stern, the wind whipping through his hair as the little craft cut through the water at a fast clip. Chief Frank Laughlin was at the helm of the boat, while Jessie Jameson and Brett Clayton were monitoring Florence inside the cabin. Both Holly and Beatrice were inside with her too. Despite the crowd, the chief hadn’t offered any resistance when Micah insisted on coming along. He’d done that plenty of times when an islander or tourist had suffered a serious injury or illness.

  As the boat angled toward Portland Harbor, Holly emerged from the cabin looking slightly less worried. She sat down beside him on the bench by the starboard rail. “She seems to be resting comfortably enough now. Her vitals are stable.”

  “Is she still giving you hell for calling the paramedics?” Micah asked, relieved.

  “She’s too out of it for that right now. But by tomorrow, I’ll be deep in the shit again for sure. You too, buddy.”

  Micah had to laugh. “We’ll be okay as long as we stick together.”

  “Deal.” She gave him a fist bump.

  God, he wanted to pull her into his arms and hug her close, giving her whatever comfort he could. “Are you cold?” he asked, as if that might give him an excuse. The evening had turned cool since the town hall meeting, and on the bay, it was blustery too.

  “Not really. This is pretty warm.” She tugged at the sleeve of her fleece-lined hoodie. Then she slumped a bit on the bench, staring wearily out over the water.

  “I’m sure Jessie’s got everything under control,” he said, “and Maine Med is the best there is.”

  Holly sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about what’s going to happen next time.”

  He’d wondered the same thing but held his peace. He didn’t want to add any weight to her already heavy load of guilt.

  “I’m sure she’s going to have more attacks,” she went on gloomily. “Now that Night Owl’s going ahead, it’s just a matter of time.”

  “You can’t be sure of that. You’re putting the store on a better footing—even Archer said so. If Florence sees that it won’t go under after Night Owl opens, the panic attacks should stop. Especially if she’s responsible about taking her meds.”

  “Micah, those are some mighty big ifs. If she takes her meds, if the store doesn’t go under. Yeah, I know I keep telling my aunts that it’ll turn out fine, but I only half believe it myself. Honestly, I’m getting more and more scared about what’s going to happen after I leave.”

  Then don’t leave.

  But as badly as he wanted to voice that plea, Micah knew better than to make that kind of mistake. She’d probably see it as him trying to pressure her for his own sake, something that he had to admit was at least partly true. “I get it,” he said. “But Florence and Beatrice are adults. Don’t forget that they were taking care of you way before you were taking care of them.”

  When she shot him a frown, he wanted to kick himself.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just meant that they’re going to be up to the challenge. They’ve managed to keep the store going for decades, so why won’t they be able to pick up where you leave off?”

  “I know, but—”

  “Hey, you need to stop feeling guilty about having a career. Your aunts are really proud of you. They want you to do what makes you happy.”

  “But I owe them so much.” Holly leaned forward and rested her forehead on her palms, obviously feeling pretty beat up. “Where would I have been without them? Fifteen years old and with no parents? I’m sure one of the reasons they’re in such bad financial shape was all the help they gave me in college.”

  Now that was a surprise. Micah had always assumed she’d gotten a decent life insurance payout after her parents died in the crash.

  “I didn’t know they’d supported you,” he said.

  She sat up straight again, absently brushing hair from her face. He itched to stroke the silky fall that tumbled to her shoulders.

  “They wouldn’t take no for an answer,” she said. “I told them I could manage on my own, but they insisted that they were doing fine and could afford it. If I’d refused, they’d have been mortally offended. You know how they are.”

  “Mainer pride.”

  “With a capital P. I wasn’t willing to risk hurting them, especially not after they insisted that they owed it to Mom and Dad to take care of me. They said there was no way on Earth that they were going to fail them.”

  “Okay, that would make me feel guilty as hell too. They haven’t let you pay them back either, have they?”

  “I gave up asking. They got so upset every time I brought the subject up. Like I was insulting them.”

  Micah got it. The Jenkins sisters had seen their duty and wouldn’t let anything keep them from fulfilling it.

  “So I’ll take care of them no matter what,” Holly went on. “Whatever they need, I’ll find a way.” Her voice rang with conviction and emotion.

  Now he finally understood. “That’s one of the reasons you’re such a workaholic, isn’t it? Why you’re so focused on your career. You want to be able to support them if necessary.”

  “Sure, that’s a big part of it. Don’t get me wrong. I love my work, but I’ve always worried that something like this might happen. Not just a medical issue but a financial…” The words trailed off.

  “Calamity?” he guessed.

  She gave a solemn nod. “I couldn’t do anything about my parents. The aunties, though… I need to be able to keep them safe and comfortable. I’m all they’ve got, Micah.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders, finally giving in to the impulse he’d been resisting for hours. Amazingly, she didn’t pull back. Instead, she huddled under his arm, as if seeking warmth.

  “You’re wrong about that, honey,” he said. “We’ve got a whole community here, people who dearly love your aunts. We’d do whatever had to be done to help them out—to help you out. We’d make sure Florence and Beatrice were okay.”

  She turned her face into his shoulder. “I know, Micah.” Her voice came out slightly muffled. When she stayed quiet, resting against him, he began to have some hope that he was finally getting through to her.

  But then she let out another sigh and pulled away
from him. He mentally cursed but let her go.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m starting to think that I should really be putting all my efforts into convincing them to sell the place while it still has some value. They think they can’t live without it, but Florence might not live with it either. I could take care of them financially, especially if my new partnership lives up to its promise.”

  The boat slowed as they came into the harbor, and she caught sight of the floating pier. An ambulance was waiting on the street above, its bright, flashing lights illuminating the scene. A couple of city paramedics waited, gurney at the ready.

  Holly stood up, bracing herself. “I want my aunts to live out their senior years in comfort, not lacking for anything. They deserve everything I can give them.”

  Chapter 20

  What’s the latest on Florence?” Morgan asked as Holly brought over their lattes.

  Holly placed the cups down on one of the new café tables she’d just set up outside the store and took a seat across from her pal. There hadn’t been another customer besides Morgan for an hour, but that was no big surprise—business had been slow all weekend. With the Blueberry Festival on, most islanders and day-trippers were spending their time there and at the lobster boat races, not shopping.

  “They’re still doing tests,” Holly said. “You know, checking for blockages.”

  Three days had passed since the fire rescue boat had rushed her aunt to Maine Medical. Florence had seemed to be recovering nicely, but yesterday, out of nowhere, she’d suffered what appeared to be a small stroke. Beatrice had made an incoherent phone call, asking Holly to come right away. Feeling frantic, Holly had called Micah and asked if he could run her into the city in his superfast motorboat instead of waiting for the ferry. He’d immediately raced her to the hospital to be with Beatrice.

  “She didn’t have an actual stroke though, right?” Morgan said.

  “No, it’s something called a TIA, and the effects do fade. But a significant percentage of people who’ve had a TIA go on to have a full-blown stroke, so they need to do a lot of testing to see what might have caused it. And then they can figure out the best treatment. Probably more drugs, I guess. Hopefully not surgery anyway.”