by T. A. Foster
“All right. I’ll stop by.”
“And don’t let Eden give you a hard time about that girl. She’s just trying to help.”
“I know. She wants everyone to be happy.”
Grey smiled. “Yeah, she is on a mission. Sorry things didn’t work out for you.”
“Who said they didn’t work out?”
He shrugged. “True. I guess we all have different goals.”
“I had a good time. I’m not looking for anything serious. I’ve been pretty open about that.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me. If I hadn’t met Eden, I’d be doing the same thing. I wasn’t interested in anything else.”
I thought about it. I wasn’t sure we were the same kind of men when it came to women. Grey was certainly more domesticated than I was. Before Eden he had lived with a girlfriend. That had never happened to me. I made sure of it.
“Hey, man I’m not trying to rush you, but I’ve got to head out soon. I have a big day lined up. I’ve got to run over to the site.”
Grey stepped back inside, and I closed the sliding door. “See you tonight?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll bring a case or two.”
“Sounds good.”
He left and I realized how normal that exchange had been. It was possible we were actually becoming friends. I jumped in the shower.
I adjusted my collar and the sleeves on my jacket. A crowd had already gathered near the picnic tables. I stayed close to the road, out of sight. The sun beat down on the crowd. I noticed Commissioner Rodriguez moving to the front of the group.
Next to her were two men and two women. Their T-shirts were decorated with pictures of sea dunes. I assumed they were from the activist group. This should be interesting. I folded my arms and waited for the press conference to start.
The microphone squeaked and the onlookers pressed their hands to their ears. It was already a rocky start.
Janet smiled. “I’d like to welcome everyone today. I have a few people I should introduce. If you’re not familiar with the Custodians of the Dunes, a few of their representatives have joined us today. Cecilia, Bailey, Hamp, and Doug.”
“You all know this piece of land we’re standing on has been purchased. And some of you are probably thinking this is a good thing for our island. You’re thinking about the jobs it will bring in. But what I want you to think about is what the development of Beach Combers Cove will do to the beach. Do you know how many species of animals live in the dunes that border this tract?”
This is the part of the speech that always irritated me. Janet started throwing out statistics about animal endangerment, beach erosion, and tossed in the number of accidents that occurred on construction sites. That one was unnecessary, but I knew what she was doing. She needed to build citizen unity. The message was clear. The development was dangerous and unsafe for everyone.
I hung my head and started back for the car. I didn’t need to hear the words from the Custodians of the Dunes to know what the pushback was going to be. They were going to fight the development.
It wasn’t the first battle I would face against environmentalists.
I heard the ding on my phone and pulled it from my pocket to check the email. From the corner of my eye I saw her. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was late to the press conference. She didn’t see me. She rushed to the group, her bag slung over her shoulder, her reporter’s pad clutched in one hand.
The skirt she was wearing showed off her tan legs and the taunt muscles in her calves. I scowled. Not for me. I had my taste. It wasn’t going to happen again.
I hesitated. I wanted to walk over. But why? I had cut her loose. It was best this way. Within a few seconds she was buried in the crowd. I started the engine and slowly drove away from the trailer park. I tried to forget I was leaving Sydney behind. I turned up the radio as I picked up speed. Yes, this was best.
The condo was cool the way I liked it. I typed out an email. I needed the preliminary numbers on a warehouse in Fort Worth. I would fly out in a few days. I wanted the information before I was back in Dallas.
Early on, people told me I grew my business too fast. They said Lachlan Corporation wouldn’t be able to sustain the rate of growth I pushed on it. But it didn’t stop me. I kept the pace I wanted. Followed my instincts. Ignored the warnings.
If the next purchase went through I would be closing in on my thirtieth acquisition. It felt good to know I didn’t let the concerns stop me. I kept going regardless of the resistance.
My phone buzzed next to the laptop. It was Mark.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Have you seen the article in the News & Record?”
I closed my email. “No. Which one?”
“It came out about fifteen minutes ago. It’s an in-depth feature on one of the residents in Beach Combers Cove. A mother and little girl who will be displaced when the demolition begins.”
I typed in the website. “Who wrote it?”
“Same reporter who released your exclusive. Sydney Paige.”
I breathed into the phone, gripping it tightly. “I’ll find it.”
It appeared on the front page. I scanned the headline. The picture was of a young woman looking on while her daughter played in an inflatable pool. The dunes were behind them.
I knew what it would say before I started reading it. Shawna Douglas, a young mother barely making ends meet working at the Pancake House, was scrambling to find a place she could afford for her five year old daughter, Lindy. I shook my head. This was going to hurt. Not only did the article make it sound like they were going to be homeless, but also that the millionaire mogul who had bought the land hadn’t made any conditions for the residents to move.
I ran my hands through my hair. Damn it. This wasn’t the first time people had to move because of rental property I purchased.
I grabbed my keys from the counter and jogged down the stairs. I wanted to ride with the top down. I started at the end of the island closest to the Palm, searching the side streets. I turned around in every cul-de-sacs and drove to the next grid of roads. After an hour, I started to think my plan wasn’t going to work, but then I saw a gravel road half-covered in vines and brown grass. I slowed the car and turned onto the path. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t perfect. It would work.
I dialed the Dallas office.
“Mark, I need our broker to purchase a piece of land today.”
“Today, sir?” I hated how he always repeated what I said.
“Yes, today. Can the team handle it?”
“Of course. What’s the listing number?”
I groaned. “It doesn’t have a listing number. I’ll shoot you the address. Make an offer, get it done today. Also, start the permit application to have the land zoned for water and electricity. It needs to be completed in two weeks.”
I stepped out of the car. It was basically a wasteland. I estimated how many trailers I thought could fit. “And make that for ten trailer hookups. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” He hesitated.
“What is it, Mark?”
“Why are we buying this land, sir? Did I miss a report or an email?”
“It’s for the residents of Beach Combers Cove. We can’t get everyone moved, but ten should be enough. Take care of it, and let me know when it’s finished.”
“Will do. I’ll have Barbara start immediately.”
“Thanks, Mark. I know I’ve put a lot on everyone in the office this past week. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
I surveyed the field. I hoped like hell this would work.
Five minutes later I pulled into the Pancake House parking lot. It was a local favorite on the island. The kind of place that served breakfast twenty-four-seven. I slid into a booth near the back of the diner.
“What can I get you?” A waitress, who looked as if she were still in high school dropped a glass of water on the table, spilling it on the floor. “I’m sorry.” She stoo
ped to the floor. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
Another girl rushed over to help her. “We’ll clean it right up.”
“Not a problem. Everything I’m wearing can dry.”
The second waitress looked up. “I know who you are.”
“Funny. I was about to say the same thing to you. Shawna Douglas, right?”
She nodded. “Carrie, I’ll take care of this customer.” She directed the young girl back to the register, carrying wet towels. “I didn’t expect you to be in here.”
“I’d like eggs, bacon, and two pancakes.” I handed her a menu.
“You’re in here for pancakes?”
“It’s the Pancake House.”
“Of course. I’ll get that order in for you.”
Ten minutes later Shawna returned with a plate of hot food. I smiled. “Thank you.”
“Can I get anything else for you?” she asked.
“Well, I was getting ready to ask you that.” I peeled the paper wrapper from the silverware.
She looked around. “Are you here to say something about the article? The reporter asked the questions. I just answered them.”
“I understand. I’m not upset.”
“You’re not?” She looked surprised.
“Why would I be upset?”
She sat across from me. “Do you know I have less than a month to find a place to live? There aren’t any open campgrounds on the island. Besides that, how am I going to haul that trailer?” Her voice started to rise.
“I think I have a solution for you.”
“And what is that?”
“What if I told you there is campground where you and Lindy can move?”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing on the island. Beach Combers Cove was the last one that allowed for full-time residents.”
I grinned. “Until the new one opens”
“But how? Where?”
“You know on the sound side near the bridge, there’s that vacant lot?”
“The one with rusted cars and boats?”
I nodded. “That’s the one.”
“I’m sorry, I might be desperate, but I’m not that desperate.”
My hand reached across the table, pressing against her wrist. “I wouldn’t suggest that. I know you’re trying to find a place for your daughter to live.”
“Then how is a junkyard going to be a suitable place for us?”
“What do you say you meet me there after work and I’ll show you? What time is your shift over?”
She still looked skeptical. “The shift change is at three. But I have to get my daughter.”
“Bring her with you. I’ll see you there.”
She stood next to the table. “All right.”
I finished my pancake breakfast, left change on the table, and headed to my car. It was a more expensive solution than I wanted, but in the long run it would be worth it. I didn’t need any more stories bashing me for kicking out a single mother.
I scowled thinking about the reporter who had taken a swing at my character and motives. It didn’t matter. I had a way to fix it.
I peeled out of the parking lot.
A few minutes after three, Shawna pulled up behind me. You could hear the bridge traffic as cars passed over the sound. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t terrible. Any kid could sleep through that.
“You made it.” I walked toward her, while she unbuckled the little girl from a booster seat.
“Yes. Now what is it you’re proposing?” She eyed the weeds growing around tires and through the windshield of a rusted out Mustang.
“I should be able to have water and electric hookups run out here in two weeks. We’ll have all of this cleared.” I waved my hands toward the abandoned vehicles.
“You own this?”
“As of this morning, yes.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and surveyed the small lot.
Shawna took Lindy’s hand, and they walked through a path in the weeds.
“I’ll even throw in a swing set and slide. What do you think?”
She was considering it. That was all I needed. She didn’t have to have the vision I had for the place. People rarely could see what potential there was in land or a dilapidated building, but I could. I only had to paint the picture for her. As long as she believed the picture, it would work.
“And picnic tables and grills?” She turned toward me.
“Yes, over there near the trees. Much better than what you have at the Cove.”
Lindy squealed. “Mama, look! Cats!”
A stray cat jumped on the hood of one of the cars.
I smirked. “I’ll make sure you have no problems with ferocious attack cats either.”
I heard Shawna repress a giggle.
“But Lindy can’t see the ocean from here. She loves the ocean.” She turned toward the road. The beach was on the other side of it as well as a row of houses and hotels.
“There’s swimming access to the sound. And you know you can access the beach anytime you want to take her. There are places all over the island for that.” She didn’t look convinced. “Ok, I’ll add a pier with a swimming platform, ok?” I tried not to sound irritated. I was slowly adding costs to this low-budget project.
She folded her arms, allowing Lindy to move freely in front of us. “A swimming platform sounds decent, but how am I going to get moved?”
“Leave that to me. I’ll set up the new campground and get you moved.”
The cat was joined by a friend. I wondered how many other animals lived in the hollowed out engines and trunks.
“And my neighbors? Arnie and Karen? There are a few others who are year-round residents like me.”
She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head. I knew Shawna was a young woman, but there were lines around her eyes, and the smudged mascara running around her lids made her look tired and older than she was.
“I have enough room for ten spots. I can’t get permits for more than that. You are on the top of the list.”
“Only ten? But what if more people want to move?” She was trying to hold Lindy back from chasing one of the cats. She glared at her daughter to stand still.
“Shawna, I have a team of people who can help them find new lots for their campers. I can help ten of you right here. What do you say? Are you interested?”
I knew the lot was small, and I wasn’t going to be able to move everyone, but they weren’t all in Shawn’s situation. She needed a place she could afford so that Lindy could continue to live on the island and go to school. Most of the other residents stayed for four or five months out of the year. The snowbirds only resided at the Cove during the winter. Those weren’t the people causing my PR nightmare. This woman and the cute little girl were.
“All right. We’ll move.” She bent down so she was squatting next to Lindy. The girl was about to snatch the tail of a striped kitty. “What do you think, Lindy? Would you like to move here?”
She nodded. “Can we have the kitties?”
I laughed. “That’s up to your mother.” I began to walk back to my car.
Shawna stood. “Thank you, Mason.”
“I’m glad it’s going to work out.” I drove toward the Palm, leaving the mother to survey her new home.
“Well done on the feature piece,” Alice smiled as she passed by my cubicle. She was on her way back from the break room. A cup of coffee in her hand.
“Thank you. I’ve had a lot of feedback from my Twitter followers.”
“I’m starting to think you’re more of a feature writer. First the Lachlan piece and now this look at the mother and her daughter. You have a flare that’s starting to show.”
I was glad she could finally see the real strengths in my writing, but it still wasn’t the right time to admit I wasn’t a business expert. We both knew it.
“Keep it up, Paige.”
“Alice?”
She turned. “Yeah, what is it?”
“I have the notes from Commissioner Rodriguez’s press
conference. But since you mentioned the feature angles, I was wondering what you thought about me focusing on her.”
Alice set the coffee on the edge of my desk. This was the longest amount of time she had spent at my desk. The first time I met the editor was over a Skype interview. My immediate reaction was she looked tired. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her short blond hair was patched with streaks of gray.
“Are you talking a political story for the election?”
I shook my head. “No, something about why she’s an environmentalist. How is she so connected to these groups? Where does she find them?”
“Hmm. Doesn’t sound very interesting to me.”
“But she’s the only one on the board who is anti-development.”
“Paige, if you find something new and interesting then let me know. In the meantime, I need the name of the contractor starting work on the resort. We are a business journal. A contract like that is going to impact this area.”
My stomach rolled. I knew Mason had narrowed the search to two companies. He had met with both of them in San Antonio. He had purposely kept me from the information. My eyes narrowed. He kept me distracted from a lot of things.
She strolled into her office, closing the door behind her. I could see Alice from where I sat. There was a glass window separating the editor from the pods of cubicles in the center of the room.
I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. I wasn’t going to find out the names of the contractors by sitting here. I headed out of the office.
My steering wheel was hot. The seats were hot. Everything in Texas was hot. I waited for the air conditioning to switch from blasts of heated air to something resembling cool before I headed to City Hall. My hope was that whichever contractor had been awarded the bid had already submitted their information to my new friend in the development office.
I clicked the seatbelt when I heard my phone ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Eden Brady. How are you?”
“Eden? Oh, hey.”
“Sorry I haven’t been in touch since last week.”