Thomas Kinkade's Cape Light

by Katherine Spencer

  The chalkboard that usually posted the day’s special read: FREE FOOD AND HOT DRINKS—COFFEE, TEA, HOT COCOA. SANDWICHES, SOUP, AND DESSERTS. COMPLIMENTS OF MAYOR BATES AND HIS FAMILY.

  He was on the right track there. Who could refuse a hot drink today? The mere scent of the coffee was wildly distracting.

  Lucy swept past with a coffeepot, surprised to see them. “Emily, Dan . . . coffee?” she asked. They both nodded quickly. She served them and set down a hot chocolate for Jane.

  “It’s very generous of you to open and do all this for the town,” Emily said.

  “It was Charlie’s idea. We’ll stay open as long as people need the shelter. I just hope the soup and sandwiches hold out.”

  “I’m sure people are grateful just to be in a warm place,” Emily replied.

  “Thanks, Emily. I’ll tell Charlie you said that. Charlie, look who’s here, Emily and Dan.” Lucy announced their presence as if the two couples were all old friends, Emily noticed. Lucy did have wonderful social skills.

  Charlie looked as if he didn’t want to come over and talk, but Lucy kept waving her hand. Finally, he walked the short distance from the grill. “Hello, folks. How are you faring?”

  “Our heat is off, but we don’t have it too bad, compared to a lot of other families,” Emily said.

  “Any word on getting the roads clear, Charlie?” Dan asked bluntly.

  “I’ve been working on it, believe me.” Charlie was trying to sound upbeat and in control but tension shone through. “We’ve got town workers out shoveling Main Street and a crew of plow operators I hired coming through. There are a lot of roads. It’s going to take time.”

  “Of course it will. That goes without saying,” Emily agreed. “Have you called Tom Dempsey, up in Newburyport? He might be able to help.”

  Charlie stared at her. She held her breath and waited, expecting an explosion.

  “Dempsey?” He squinted at her. “Sure . . . I spoke to his department, to his boss. Last night.”

  Emily suspected he was bluffing and didn’t know who she was talking about. “That’s good. I’m sure he can help you, since he supervises and schedules the routes of the plow trucks for that area. Once they get their roads clear, he might send one or two down here. He did that for the village one winter a few years ago. The village will need to cover the salaries and the supplies, of course. As I’m sure you know.”

  Charlie nodded. “Right. We talked about that . . . He’s getting back to me.”

  Emily nodded, feeling satisfied this slim arrow had hit its mark. “Good coffee,” she said sincerely. “I know it sounds trivial, but I really missed it this morning. I can’t even think straight without coffee.”

  “Me, neither,” Charlie agreed. He folded his arms over his chest. “So . . . anyone else who might not be listed in the emergency plan? Just wondering.”

  Emily considered the question, thinking of county and even state officials whom she might contact at a time like this. And some at the utility company, as well. “Let’s see . . . now that you mention it, there are a few . . .” She paused. “It’s so noisy in here. Maybe we should talk in the kitchen?”

  “It is noisy. Come on back.” Charlie headed for the swinging doors, and Emily got to her feet. She glanced back at Dan, who smiled at her with fingers crossed. Emily followed Charlie into the kitchen, feeling as if she were willingly walking into a lion’s den, half expecting him to bite her head off.

  Charlie’s cook, Tim, ladled soup in a row of bowls on a large tray while Lucy waited to carry them into the dining room. If either of them thought there was anything odd about Emily and Charlie meeting in the kitchen, they didn’t show it.

  “Hot soup, coming through,” Lucy said lightly as she sailed by.

  Emily faced Charlie and took out her cell phone, then browsed her list of contacts. “There are a few more people you might reach out to—beyond the names in the plan,” she said. “Let me see if I can find them for you.”

  “Why aren’t they in the plan? That’s what I want to know.”

  His tone wasn’t accusatory, exactly. Just frustrated. Emily would have felt the same in his shoes.

  “I guess it’s because there’s a network of people you get to know being in the job for a long time. People I developed relationships with, who knew me and were willing to help. Not because they had to, but because we were friends and colleagues. I hope they’ll help you, too. It’s worth a try.”

  Charlie seemed satisfied with that answer but still frowned at her. “That makes sense. But why in the world do you want to help me? I thought you’d be pleased as punch to see me fail.”

  That was even a harder question to answer. “I know we don’t agree on a lot of things, Charlie. But one thing we do agree on is this town and the people in it. I know you would do anything to help everyone get through this mess safely. And I feel the same.”

  “True enough,” Charlie admitted, a little reluctantly. “Though I never thought of it that way.”

  “I never did, either,” she answered honestly. “But maybe we should. Even if it’s just for today?”

  He gazed at her a moment, then handed over an order pad and a pencil. “Okay. What would you do? Who would you call? I don’t know if it’s sleep deprivation or what, but I guess I’m willing to hear out anyone right now.”

  She knew that was as close as he would ever come to a thank-you, and she began to describe how she would deal with the situation, giving Charlie ample credit for the bases he had covered. He asked a lot of questions and seemed encouraged by her suggestions. When they were finally done, he had several pages torn from the order book with names to call from Essex to Rockport, all the way down to Peabody and up to Princeton, plus a list of jobs he could delegate to his staff.

  “I’d better get back to the office. You’ve been a big help, Emily. I can’t believe it . . . but I won’t forget it.”

  “Happy to do what I can. Is there anything else? I can oversee one of those areas for you—the warming centers or checking on the elderly?” She wasn’t sure he would want her any more involved than she’d been already.

  “Let’s see . . . the warming centers. That’s a good spot. We have one at the church and one at Potter Orchard. Sam Morgan offered his house, too, for overflow. But they’re a little farther out. We need to spread the word and find more transportation. Can you handle that?”

  Emily tried hard not to smile. “I think so. Thanks for the assignment,” she added. “I’ll check in if I have questions.”

  “You do that.” He suddenly stuck out his hand. “I know we’re usually on opposite sides of every question. I can’t promise it will ever be different. But I have to say, you surprised me today. You’re all right, Emily Warwick. You sure know how to take the high road.”

  Emily shook his hand, pleased at his compliment. “Thanks, Charlie. You surprised me today, too.”

  A short time later, Emily met Dan back at the lunch counter. She saw Jane across the room, sitting at a table with a group of her friends. “You were back there a long time,” Dan said. “I thought Charlie might have pushed you in the freezer and thrown away the key.”

  “I didn’t know what to expect either. But he did hear me out, and I gave him advice. I hope it helps.” She took a sip of her coffee. It was cold but still tasted good. “We shook hands.”

  “That is big. You ought to tell Reverend Ben. He’ll be pleased.”

  “Yes, he will,” Emily agreed. “I hope you don’t mind, but Charlie asked me to oversee the warming centers.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Dan said with a smile. “What can I do to help?”

  Emily was grateful for his offer and his understanding. “We need to make a ton of phone calls to start. Let’s find a booth and a place to charge the phones.” Luckily, she had remembered to bring the chargers.

  This was not going to be e
asy. She didn’t have any of the resources of her old office at Village Hall, but she didn’t feel comfortable asking to do the job there. Even if she and Charlie had struck a truce, that was his command post and inner sanctum now.

  I’m just a deputy today. Not the sheriff. And that’s fine. More than fine. Just as it should be.

  * * *

  Charlie pulled on his down jacket and gloves and worked his way through the crowd to the door. He needed to get back to Village Hall, even though he was leaving poor Lucy and the boys shorthanded. C.J. didn’t seem to mind so much, but Jamie kept sending him comically desperate looks, as if no one could survive bussing so many tables.

  He saw Emily and Dan in a booth, talking on their cell phones and making lists on sheets of paper most likely borrowed from schoolkids doing homework at other tables. He could barely believe Emily had come here. But the advice she had given him was golden, and he was eager to follow through.

  He stepped out on to the street, wishing he could run to Village Hall, but forcing himself to tread carefully. At least there was some sand down. And his old friend Krueger was selling snow shovels and Ice Melt at half price. He stood in front of his store and waved. “Hang in there, Charlie. So far, so good,” he shouted.

  “Thanks, George. I’m doing my best.”

  A little farther down Main Street, Tucker and a few other police officers were helping shopkeepers clear the sidewalk.

  “That’s the way, folks. Everybody does their part. We’ll get through this. Don’t worry,” Charlie coached them. “Help is on the way.”

  “That’s the spirit, Dad.”

  It was Zoey, standing in front of the diner. The busboy, James Potter, was with her. Part of him felt relieved to see she was safe and sound, and the other part was upset that she had not kept her promise.

  “I thought you were staying at the orchard. You promised me you wouldn’t take that old truck out . . . Did you drive her here?” He turned from Zoey to James, already blaming him.

  “No, sir. Sam Morgan gave us a ride. He’s been shuttling people in and out of town all day. He brought some neighbors to my grandmother’s and said we could ride back to town with him.”

  “I called you, Dad. You didn’t answer,” Zoey explained. “I thought it would be all right. Reverend Ben thought Sam’s truck was safe enough for church members.”

  Charlie felt foolish for losing his temper. “I guess that was okay. Right now, the diner sounds like Fenway after a home run. I must have missed the phone.”

  “I just want to help, Dad.”

  “I’m sorry. That’s sweet of you, Zoey. Don’t mind me. I’m tired,” he admitted. “Your mother and brothers will be thrilled to see you.” He glanced at James. “You here to help, too?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Better get in there. It’s a madhouse. I’ll be in my office. And thank you, honey. You’re a special girl. I always said that.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Good luck!”

  Charlie waved and concentrated on his footing again. Tiny, careful steps, one behind the other, that was the only way he could get from A to B. It seemed a metaphor for his life lately. But at least I’m moving forward, he reminded himself. One slippery step at a time.

  * * *

  It was sometime after six that night when Emily called Charlie. She was at Sophie Potter’s house, checking to see how many people were sheltered there and to see if Sophie needed any supplies. The house was filled, but it seemed under control, with Sophie at the stove, cooking up a storm of her own, a huge preholiday party.

  “I think we’ve managed to get everyone who needs to be out of the cold tonight into one of the warming centers, Charlie. There’s food and blankets for all, and most will have cots to sleep on, too.”

  “Good to know. And good job. I appreciate you stepping up.” His words of gratitude were gruffly spoken. But he had thanked her, a surprising first in their relationship.

  “I was glad to help. I can continue tomorrow, too,” she added.

  “All right, if you want to. No pressure. I’m going to stop by the church and see how they’re doing. I’m letting folks stay over at the diner, too,” he added. “There’s no heat at our house. Looks like I’ll be there with my family tonight.”

  “That makes sense,” Emily said.

  “Where will you be tonight, you and your family?”

  Was he actually concerned about her—or just curious? Concerned, Emily decided. They disagreed about a lot of things, but she knew Charlie had a good heart underneath. Very far underneath, sometimes.

  “I’m going to my sister’s house. She and Sam have a generator, so they offered their place as a warming center, too. But it didn’t seem as if we needed another in this area. And they live a bit farther out than Sophie, so it’s harder to get to.”

  “Very true. Though we’ll see how long these centers are needed. Sophie might need a break after a day or so. Let’s see how it goes. Tomorrow is another busy day. Guess I’ll check in with you in the morning, Emily.”

  “Good idea. Talk to you then. Stay warm,” she added.

  “Same to you and yours,” Charlie said.

  Emily said good-bye and ended the call.

  “Who was that?” Dan asked. He had been walking around Sophie’s house, socializing with all the storm guests, but now stood nearby.

  “I had to check in with Charlie. I’m going to help him tomorrow, too.”

  “Reporting in to the mayor?” Dan teased. “Did you ever think you’d be working for him, Em?”

  Emily smiled. “I’m not working for him, I’m just a volunteer. But no, not in a million years. Goes to show, you just never know what’s going to happen when you wake up in the morning.”

  “Very true. This morning was a perfect example of that.”

  A few minutes later they called Sam, and he picked them up in his truck. They stopped at their own house for sleeping bags and overnight needs and then headed over to Sam’s house.

  Emily knew that her mother and Ezra had been the first to arrive, rescued by Sam early that morning. She wondered how her sister’s nerves were holding up, stuck in the house with their mother all day. But there were many more people in the house, Emily realized, including Molly Willoughby, her husband, Dr. Matt Harding, and their youngest daughter, Betty, as well as Jessica’s younger children, Tyler and Lily. Jessica had also invited her new neighbors, a young couple who had moved into an adorable little cottage on the pond that edged Sam and Jessica’s property. Emily hadn’t met them before, but she recalled their last name was Quinn. Jessica often mentioned the wife, Melissa. In the past few months, they had become good friends.

  “Emily, Dan . . . give me your coats, you must be frozen.” Jessica ran to the door to greet each of them with a hug. Their dog, a yellow lab mix named Sunny, followed at her heels.

  “We’re fine. We’ve been hanging around warming centers all day,” Dan explained. “Grazing on coffee and donuts.”

  Sam had come in right behind them and laughed. “A crisis brings out the best in people. I’ve always said that.”

  “I haven’t had a single donut,” Emily protested. “I didn’t want to spoil my appetite. I knew there would be something delicious cooking . . . Is that freshly baked bread?”

  “Among other things. Molly’s in the kitchen working her magic. Even I had to step aside for a while.”

  Jessica was a wonderful cook, but so was her sister-in-law, Molly. Emily was sure that between them, they had created a feast from whatever ingredients were at hand.

  “Can I help?” Emily asked.

  “Maybe later. You’ve been out all day working. Why don’t you warm up and relax for a while? I’ll make you some tea.”

  “I’d love that. Where’s Mother?” she asked.

  “She and Ezra exhausted themselves doing crossword puzzles. They worked their way thro
ugh an entire book today. Now Ezra is reading, and I think she’s taking a nap,” Jessica reported in a quiet voice.

  Emily smiled and walked into the big family room where a fire blazed in the huge stone hearth. Jessica had already started decorating for Christmas, and a row of wooden angels stood among pine boughs on the mantelpiece. Sam had carved the set for his wife during the early years of their marriage. A huge tree stood in the corner of the room, covered with lights but with no ornaments yet. At the other side of the room, in the dining area, a long table had been set for all the guests. But the room was empty now while most of the guests relaxed near the fire.

  Emily spotted Ezra sitting in a chair, focused on a thick book. Matt was playing chess with Tyler, who was in middle school now and on a chess team, Emily had heard. Lily, who was six, had already pounced on Jane and persuaded her older cousin to play with her. They sat surrounded by a pile of dolls, and moments later Betty joined them.

  Emily found her mother in an armchair by the fire, a book open on her lap, her head tilted back as she slept. She was about to tiptoe away when Lillian’s eyes opened.

  “Were you watching me while I slept? That’s rather rude, Emily.” She sat up straighter, smoothing her cashmere cardigan and pearls. Not her good pearls but the single strand she called her “everyday set.” But still, only my mother would wear pearls during an ice storm, Emily reflected wryly. She did have on a long wool skirt, thick stockings, and sturdy boots, which were some compromise with the situation.

  “I wasn’t staring. I was just checking to see if you were still asleep.” Emily sat in the armchair on the other side of the hearth.

  “I was. Until you stared me awake. Just as well. I don’t know how I even fell asleep. I might as well be sitting in the middle of South Station with all the hubbub here today.”

  “I think it’s very cozy. And calm,” Emily added. “You should see the warming centers. Everyone’s safe, but they’re very crowded. I’m thankful we have a comfortable, private place to stay, instead.”

  Lillian sighed. “We could all be comfortable in our own homes if that fool mayor could do his job properly.”