Thomas Kinkade's Cape Light

by Katherine Spencer

“No need to be formal. You can call me Beth. Have a seat. I’ve seen you around the center. I understand that you’ve been volunteering here?”

  “Yes, for almost a year. I was taking a psych class and our professor offered extra credit if we volunteered twenty hours. But I really like working with the kids, so I continued coming.”

  “That’s great. I have a recommendation here from one of the counselors you’ve been working with. She’s very impressed.” Beth took off her glasses and leaned back in her chair. “Tell me, Zoey, why do you want to be an art therapist?”

  “I’ve always loved drawing and painting and making collages. People say I have some talent,” she added modestly. “But I don’t think I want to be a professional artist and sell my work and all that. I do it for my own enjoyment and because it helps me express my feelings and figure out things. When I was younger and going through a lot of difficult times in my life—a few really dark places—making art really helped me. Now that I’ve taken a few psychology courses, I think it would be so great to do that as a career. To help kids who are struggling feel better about themselves and about their lives. Art can really help when kids, or even adults, aren’t able to talk about what’s bothering them.”

  Beth had been listening with a thoughtful expression. “I see. So your interest in this field comes out of your life experience. That kind of firsthand insight will help you a lot if you ever get your degree in this area.”

  “I’m definitely going to get my degree. Even if it takes me forever.” Zoey realized too late she had totally blurted, not a good move in an interview. All the articles said that. She felt the color rise in her cheeks and she looked down at her lap.

  “I hope it doesn’t take that long,” Beth said with a small smile. “I meant to say, that’s a very positive and inspiring story.”

  “Thanks. But I hope you don’t think I told you all that just to get the job?”

  “Not at all.” Beth looked down at Zoey’s résumé again.

  Zoey remembered she was supposed to ask questions, too. “Can you tell me a little about the position—what I’d be doing every day?”

  “I was just about to. The intern will work with me and Dr. Simpson, assisting us in screening new patients. You’ll also sit in on sessions and handle some paperwork.”

  Zoey knew who Dr. Simpson was, though she didn’t have much contact with him as a volunteer. He had a reputation for being amazing with troubled kids. She thought that she would like working with Beth, too. She seemed smart, calm, and easy to talk to—someone Zoey could learn a lot from.

  They talked about the courses Zoey had taken so far and those she had scheduled for the spring. A few minutes later, Beth thanked her for coming in. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Zoey. We’re making our decision soon.”

  Zoey stood up and grabbed her purse, then shook Beth’s hand. “Thank you for taking the time to see me today,” she said, just as she recalled from her prep articles. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

  Beth smiled in a warm, kind way. “Thank you, Zoey. I hope to see you around the center either way.”

  Zoey checked her watch as she walked out to her car. She would be back in the village in fifteen minutes. She had only been gone from the diner an hour. It had all worked out.

  Still, Zoey wasn’t sure if she had made the right impression. Beth seemed to like her, but she also seemed like a nice person who would act interested in everyone. What did she mean by “Hope to see you around the center either way”? That could mean she doesn’t think I’ll get the job, Zoey thought.

  Her head was spinning and it took her a moment to remember that even if she was offered this internship, she couldn’t take it. Her father had made up his mind, and he wouldn’t budge. With all the pressure he was under right now, it was a terrible time to ask him about it again.

  But James had been right; the interview had been a good experience. Of course, she hoped that they chose her. But part of her hoped they chose someone else. She would feel so awful refusing the job, she didn’t know if she could face it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  So I guess we’re not going to the mall after all?” Jane stood in the doorway of Emily’s office on Monday afternoon, a schoolbook tucked under her arm and a frustrated expression on her pretty face.

  Emily had her hand over the telephone, several documents opened at once on her laptop, and others spread out on her desk. The office seemed dark. Had the sun gone down already? These winter days . . . She checked the time and felt a sudden panic. How had it gotten so late? Jane had been waiting almost two hours?

  “I’m so sorry, honey . . . I just can’t get off the phone. These documents are a complete mess.” She could tell from Jane’s expression that her explanation wasn’t cutting it. “Let’s go after dinner. I’ll make something fast. Hamburgers,” Emily said, suddenly inspired.

  All she needed now was the meat, rolls, and everything else that went with it . . . Maybe she could text Dan and ask him to pick up some takeout?

  Just like the old days, a little voice chided her. The old days that you said were over.

  “I have a test tomorrow, Mom. I can’t go tonight.” Jane didn’t usually sigh and pout, but she looked on the verge right now.

  A voice on the phone drew her attention. “Emily? Are you still there? I didn’t get the changes to page three.”

  “Can I call you back, Martin? In a minute, I promise.” Emily ended the call with Martin Becker without giving him a chance to reply. She turned to Jane with her full attention. “I’m really sorry. They asked me to quickly look over a few documents that are going to the county executive’s office. I never thought I would get stuck here all afternoon.”

  Not to mention for the rest of the night, Emily added silently. Dan will love that. But the documents outlining the SOS appeal were a mess. The group had an appointment on Friday at the county office, and all the materials for their appeal had to be hand-delivered by tomorrow noon.

  Jane, of course, was not interested in any of those reasons for missing their shopping trip. Emily had promised her a new outfit for the debate on Friday, and she wanted to keep that promise. As usual, she had been walking too fine a line today.

  “Let’s see. How about tomorrow after school? Or tomorrow night? You usually have Tuesdays free.”

  “There’s a game tomorrow, Mom.” Jane’s tone suggested Emily should have known. “And I have a study group for the science final after that.”

  A game? Emily didn’t see that on her phone calendar and quickly typed it in. She had already had to miss one game on the weekend and hoped she didn’t miss another. The season was almost over, and Jane’s team was going into a play-off round.

  “I can go to the mall Wednesday if you pick me up at school. But on Thursday I have a presentation for English, so I wanted to work on that Wednesday night.”

  Emily sighed and put her phone down. “I’m sorry, honey. I have to be someplace on Wednesday. At another meeting,” she admitted. “How about Thursday? I know you don’t have a game that day.”

  Jane looked alarmed. “Thursday is so close. What if we don’t find anything? And I still have to practice my opening statement that night.”

  “It won’t be hard to find something nice. You look good in everything. We’ll come right home, and I’ll help you rehearse. You could do that debate tomorrow, Jane. It’s only natural to be nervous about getting up in front of an audience, but once you get going, you’ll be fine. Remember what we said about picking out a friendly face in the crowd—like me or Dad?” She was teasing a bit now, but hoped her words were reassuring.

  “I know.” Jane finally smiled. “But I’d rather not be shopping the night before.”

  Jane was more like Dan, very organized and always prepared well ahead. She had taken on none of Emily’s last-minute tendencies, which was something Emily usually admired about her. Tho
ugh not at the moment.

  “We’ll go right from school. It won’t take long,” Emily promised.

  The phone rang and Emily checked the number. Martin Becker again. She sighed and let voice mail take the message.

  Dan suddenly appeared in the doorway, peeking over Jane’s head. “Hi, everybody, what’s for dinner?”

  He’s home already? There goes my plan to have him shop.

  “Nothing yet,” Emily answered honestly. “Jane and I were just about to go out—”

  “About two hours ago,” Jane cut in.

  “But I got held up. So we never made it.”

  “Another Lillian emergency? Did she run out of Epsom salts again?”

  A silly joke, but it was actually true that her mother had once called late at night, asking Emily to run to a twenty-four-hour store for Epsom salts. She was soaking her feet in hot water for some reason and hoped Emily could bring the necessary salts before the water cooled off.

  “I was asked to proofread the appeal documents that the open-space group put together. But it’s a mess. And the packet has to go to the county executive tomorrow.”

  “So you had to revise it?”

  “More like rewrite it from scratch. It’s still not done. They caught us just as we were walking out the door, right, Jane?”

  Jane stood with her arms crossed over her chest, looking unhappy.

  Emily got up from her desk, slipping her phone in a pocket. “I’ll leave this for now. Let’s figure out dinner.”

  “I’ll get the menus.” Jane’s tone was resigned as she headed to the kitchen for the file of take-out menus they kept handy. They hadn’t used them that much lately, Emily reflected.

  “Sorry about the takeout. I’m going to try the Crock-Pot again tomorrow. A chicken curry thing,” she promised, knowing Dan liked spicy foods.

  He was not distracted by her tactic. “Emily, you’re doing it again. You know that, right?”

  “I know. But this time they really ambushed me, honestly. It’s just this one last push. I tried to hand it off, like you said. But I’m the only one who seems to know how to navigate this phase, and what to say to win the appeal. They’ve got the research about how development would stress the environment. It’s enough to show cause for further study—and freeze the new zoning—but it has to be presented clearly. And they don’t have much time.”

  “I know all that, Em. I care about preserving the village as much as anybody. But I care about having a nice Christmas, all three of us together for once, even more. So you missed a shopping trip with Janie. No big deal. I know that will work out. Meanwhile, have we done any Christmas shopping? Have we put up a tree? If it wasn’t for the lights I put up outside last week, you wouldn’t even know a holiday is coming around here.”

  “Janie’s been very busy, too,” Emily pointed out. “She didn’t want to put up the tree until the debate was over.”

  “Like mother, like daughter,” Dan said with a reluctant grin. “I just hope you won’t be like this all through the holidays. I’m getting worried about that, no matter what you say.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I know what this looks like, but please don’t worry. My part is totally and completely over this week. I’m rewriting this appeal and going with them to see the county executive on Friday, and that’s it. I’ve already told Martin Becker and Marion Ross. And my mother,” she added for good measure.

  “Jane’s debate is Friday, right after school.”

  “Dan, please. How could you think I’d possibly forget that?” She didn’t mean to sound sharp, but she felt hurt. Hadn’t she been the one coaching Jane’s team?

  Jane was in the family room, studying the take-out menus. Emily took some dishes from the cupboard and put them out on the table, though she had no idea what they would be eating.

  Dan did not look reassured. “I just hope this meeting doesn’t conflict with the debate.”

  “Absolutely not. It’s starting at noon and shouldn’t take more than an hour. If it drags on, I’ll leave.” She added napkins and silverware at each place. “I thought afterward we could get a bite to eat and then go over to Sawyers’ Tree Farm. It should be early enough to put the tree up, and decorate, too.”

  “All right. That sounds like a good plan.”

  Jane walked over with the menus she’d picked out, and Emily smiled at her. “How does that sound, Jane? Do you want to put the tree up Friday night?”

  “Sure. I might be totally zonked, but why not.”

  “We can do some baking next weekend, too. And some shopping for gifts. We have plenty of time to get ready for Christmas.”

  Dan gave her a helpless smile. “If you say so, Crash.”

  His favorite nickname—inspired by Emily’s tendency to crash every deadline—made Jane laugh. Emily laughed, too, feeling relieved. Ruffled feathers seemed smoothed over. For now.

  * * *

  On Thursday afternoon, Emily was determined to be the first car in the school parking lot so she could whisk Jane off to the mall before getting stuck in the usual bus-and-parent-pickup gridlock.

  She had left the house at noon with a list of errands—the usual stop at Dillard’s Drugstore for Lillian and Ezra, the post office and bank, and another visit to the Bramble, to pick up an antique tea set she had spotted there as a Christmas gift for her sister.

  She was walking back to her car, the china carefully packed in a box, when she spotted Charlie Bates coming out of Krueger’s Hardware. Emily stopped in her tracks. Had he seen her? She hoped not. He had been so nasty and bitter the last time they met; she didn’t need another dose of that. She quickly crossed the street, though her car was parked on the same side as Krueger’s. She would let him pass her and double back at the corner.

  But Charlie crossed the street, too. He walked quickly and waved at her, clearly trying to catch up.

  Emily slowly turned to face him. Her stomach fluttered with nerves, though she felt annoyed with herself for allowing him to intimidate her for even a second. She took a breath and raised her chin as he drew closer.

  “Hello, Charlie,” she greeted him calmly.

  “Why, hello there, Napoleon. Enjoying life on Elba? Did you raise your army yet?”

  Emily nearly laughed out loud at his greeting. “I had no idea you were a student of French history, Charlie. But you’ve lost me. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “So you say. Meanwhile, behind my back, you’re marshaling your forces. Don’t deny it. If there’s anything I dislike more than a sneak, it’s a liar.”

  Emily’s back stiffened at the insult. She suddenly felt she might crush the box of china in her hands, her body grew so tense. “How dare you,” she said quietly. “And how dare you blame me because your administration is just bumping along . . . and you obviously have no idea what you’re doing.”

  She immediately felt annoyed with herself for sinking to his level. But he had gone out of his way to confront and insult her.

  “Bumping along, huh? More like ambushed at every turn. You purposely stirred up that board meeting and made me a laughingstock. And now I hear you’re meeting with the county executive this week. You and your anti-Bates group.”

  Emily didn’t reply. She wasn’t surprised that he knew about their appointment. He had to have some connections by now in the county seat. But she wasn’t going to give him any information that he didn’t have.

  “I don’t know what you’re up to, Emily, not exactly. But I do know this—you’re using this zoning debate to get back at me. Everyone knows it’s just sour grapes and you’re a sore loser. You’re going to find out that the people want progress. That’s why they picked me. You lost the election, and you’re going to lose this battle, too.”

  Emily took a breath before she spoke. “Some people want more development in this village, and they voted for
you. That’s true. But once all the facts are clear and publicly known, I don’t think your notion of progress will get very far.” She stepped to the side and began to walk around him. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

  “Fine words, as usual,” she heard him call after her. “But you need some new hobbies, Emily, besides trying to undermine and embarrass me.”

  Emily tried to ignore him, but she could not resist turning once more to face him. “Good point, Charlie. You seem to have that covered all on your own.”

  She turned her back to him and crossed the street. If he tried to get in the final word, she didn’t hear it. Dan had been right. Charlie—and probably others, as well—thought she was just taking part in this cause out of sour grapes. But the only opinion that mattered was the one she had of herself. As she gently set the box of china on the backseat, she didn’t feel that good about losing her temper with Charlie. He did have a way of getting under her skin, no matter how hard she tried to keep her cool.

  But after tomorrow, this entire situation will be out of your hands, she reminded herself. Charlie might not change his idea of you. But others—people with a sense of fairness and decency—will see that you are not the ringleader or rabble-rouser he makes you out to be.

  And you are certainly not Napoleon in exile, scheming to take back your empire. The thought of that outrageous accusation finally made her smile.

  * * *

  “I’m done with the upstairs, Grandma. I thought I’d start down here today—maybe that spare room at the back of the house? What color would you like in there?”

  James was just finishing breakfast on Friday morning: his grandmother’s usual hearty offering of eggs with all the trimmings, including the irresistible, freshly baked muffins. More of a Sunday breakfast, he thought, than one for a Friday morning. Still, he put another muffin on his plate, telling himself that all the farmwork he would be starting in a few weeks down in South America would get him lean and mean again.

  “Plain old white is fine,” Sophie answered, sitting down across from him. She looked tired and a bit distracted today. “As long as it looks clean.”