The Cove Conundrum Page 2

  Madison, with her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail so tight it made her look like she had gotten a facelift, teetered on her turquoise stiletto heels. She pointed at the block. "Is that a septic tank on your counter? Did you dig up a toilet?" She pulled out her phone. "I am totally texting the health department."

  "Madison, if you think that's the size of a septic tank, you should probably increase your fiber," Granny informed her.

  "We found a time capsule," said Nate.

  "No. Way," replied Madison. She leaned forward. "What do you think is in it? Treasure or something? I bet it is a treasure." She held up her phone and took selfies in front of it, flashing a two-fingered peace sign.

  "We have no idea, but it was supposed to be opened seventy years ago..." Nate's voice trailed off as Madison began typing rapidly. "What are you texting, Madison?"

  She smugly put her phone back into her purse. "I just sent myself a reminder note to post a message on the film commission website that we want documentarians to come cover the opening of the time capsule. That's all."

  "Um... what?" asked Nate.

  Madison motioned out the door, as if she couldn't believe Nate couldn't read her mind. "Have you even noticed all the empty streets? Listen, I hate Seaside as much as the next person—"

  "No one hates Seaside besides you, Madison," I reminded her.

  "—but I don't want Trevor's bar to fail. Because he'll never leave this hole until he has enough money to pay off the renovations expenses. And unless we have rebranded as a ghost town, we're all in trouble."

  "This is just the slow season," said Wanda. "It's why we work so hard in the summer, to insulate us for this dip. It comes every year."

  "Well, I didn't insulate, and I don't know about the rest of the town, but there was a lot of drama that caused a lot of people to have some financial issues. This is a total boon that could help everyone." She tapped something else into her phone. "Listen, I'll get a film crew and we'll open it up at Trevor's place. We have a whole bar that is treasure themed."

  "It is pirate-themed," I reminded her.

  "Same difference. I have no idea why he calls it a saloon. So dumb. ANYWAYS, he has this treasure themed restaurant that would be a great backdrop for opening it up. You know, if there's treasure inside. I'll tell him he's hosting the big event." She pulled out her phone and texted something. There was a ding. "Yeah, he'll do it."

  Nate took a deep breath. "While I appreciate this new change in attitude and you not actively sabotaging us, I'm just not sure this is the right thing to do."

  "Why isn't it right?" asked Madison, staring at Nate like he was an idiot. "Free publicity. Great production values. And Trevor can take care of the craft services, meaning you don't need to feed the filmmakers. That's a huge expense. They eat, like, four bagels apiece sometimes."

  Nate sighed with resignation. "Okay. Okay! But we talk it over with the city council first and I get to interview the filmmakers before anyone is hired."

  Madison flashed us a smile like a shark. "Oh, I'm sure you're going to love them."

  Chapter Three

  Granny's boyfriend, Richard, sat at the table, scratching Captain's head as Granny and I puttered around, closing up the shop. Nate was cutting down boxes to take out to the dumpster.

  "A time capsule, you say!" Richard exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "And lost after almost seventy years!"

  "Things were a little chaotic coming out of that second world war," Granny reminded us as she disappeared into the kitchen with a stack of dirty dishes. "People were scared buildings might be destroyed. Folks were hiding things away. Who knows what else has been lost."

  "I wonder what's inside..." I mused.

  "Nate, you should make it a big to-do," called Richard. "Get the whole town involved. Marching band from the high school and a photo opportunity. I could even call an old friend from the local paper." He patted his jacket pockets and then pulled out a small moleskin notebook and flipped through the pages. "Ah! Yes. I did get the number. I can call them whenever you'd like a reporter."

  "Madison has decided she wants to bring a crew of documentarians out to film the whole process," he said.

  Richard beamed. "Even better." He put away the notebook. "But know that the option is always there."

  The bell over the door rang.

  "Sorry!" I said, turning around. "We're closed—" My blood ran cold when I saw the woman who walked through the door. I couldn't believe my eyes. What was she doing here? Had there been an emergency? "Mom?"

  Granny came from the kitchen, disbelieving. "Lisa?" Her face lit up and she stretched out her arms to gather her up in great big hug. I came over, too, completely shocked.

  Granny held my mom's face in her hands with wonder. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming? What are you doing here?"

  "Oh," said Mom, confused by the question. "I thought it was time to help Paige pack up to come home."

  Her statement landed like a lead balloon. We all stood there for a moment as realization hit all of us.

  "Oh. Yes. Well, I suppose it is getting to be about that time." Granny's face was awash with conflicted feelings. "Um... when were you...?"

  Mom put her arm around my shoulders. "Well, I wanted to combine this with a little family time. I booked myself a room at the Grand Hotel for a week and thought we could have a grand ol' girls' vacation. Won't that be fun?"

  Nate cleared his throat.

  I realized that she had no idea who he or Richard were. "Oh. Um... Mom? I'd like for you to meet Nate. My boyfriend."

  He held out his hand. "A pleasure to meet you."

  "Oh." Mom looked at me strangely. "I didn't know. Well. This is awkward."

  "You were really busy," I apologized. "And this is still a little new..."

  "Oh. Of course. Um... how long have you been seeing each other?"

  I shifted uncomfortably. "Since about June."

  "Oh. Well." Mom tried to be supportive, but it was totally forced. "Well, I'm glad to see that you've gotten over Trevor."

  "He's on the island, too."

  "He what?"

  Granny gathered Mom up and steered her to the back of the shop. "There's some things we should probably get you caught up on, Lisa. Let me get you a hot chocolate."

  "Just some water with lemon will be fine," she said sharply, holding up her hand to get Granny to stop coddling her. "I wonder what else I don't know is going on." She turned to Richard, accusation coloring her tone. "Mind telling me who are you?"

  "This is my boyfriend," Granny informed her.

  He straightened his bow tie nervously. "A pleasure to meet you."

  Mom threw up her hands. "Oh for goodness’ sake! Mom!"

  Granny rolled her eyes, and then turned to shoo me out. "Nate, walk Paige home. Her mother and I have some things to discuss."

  Chapter Four

  Nate and I walked down the quiet boardwalk, the conversation that we both knew we were going to have some time, hanging between us.

  "So..." he said, finally breaking the silence. "I knew, intellectually, that the summer was over but... I for some reason just didn't think it was actually ever going to end..." He reached over and took my hand. "I thought... I thought we had more time."

  "I can't believe she just showed up without warning me! Just showed up!"

  "Did you know she was going to?" he asked, trying to be supportive.

  "No..." I stopped myself. "I mean, yes, maybe. We had generally left it as I'd come home at the end of the summer, but I assumed that she'd let us know before hopping on the ferry."

  Nate tried to be brave. "Well, it's really nice of her to come help you get packed up."

  "First she ships me off here, then she shuttles me off..." My voice caught in my throat with frustration. "It'd just be really nice if she asked me what I wanted to do and then supported me in that."

  "And what do you want to do?" Nate asked.

  The tough part was that I didn't know anymore. I mean, th
ere wasn't really enough business here on the island for Granny to support another worker. But there wasn't really anything waiting for me with my mom except a job in a call center or something. There's not a whole lot a person can do with an associate's degree that took four years to finish.

  I had wanted to go to Le Cordon Bleu. The mystery judge, Alain, had even said he would make phone calls to make that happen for me. But that would be hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt, and to get the loans and then try to pay it off working in the restaurant industry? I'd be crippled before I even got out of the starting gate.

  "I don't know..." I said, my eyes prickling.

  Nate saw how difficult this was and stopped, reaching out to give me a great big hug. "Shhhh... shhhhh... We'll figure it out, Paige. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. And nothing is permanent. If you have to go and it is awful, you can always come back."

  I laughed. "I feel like I've got nothing but terrible options in front of me."

  "You calling us a terrible option?" he laughed, but there was a serious question beneath that, too.

  And I think that was really what made this difficult. The truth of the matter is that I didn't really care one way or another about anything. All I cared about was Nate. I wanted to be where he was. I knew that if I left the island, I might never see him again. If I left for a year, I might ruin everything between us.

  "Leaving you would be the worst part of all of this."

  He kissed me reassuringly and then we resumed our walk to the cottage. "We'll just take it a day at a time. Know that I support you, no matter what you decide." He looked like he was about to say something, but then stopped himself. "I don't what to make this any more difficult for you than it is. Just know that I support you, no matter what."

  A part of me wished that he would make it more difficult. Wished that he would say, "Stay! Don't leave!"

  But he was a good guy.

  And good guys don't play that way.

  Good guys allow you to make decisions for yourself and respect those decisions.

  Darn it.

  Chapter Five

  I showed up at Bitter Beans at 4:00 AM to start the morning bake. As sucky as it sounds, I hadn't really slept all night and had been up for hours already. My stomach was tied in knots as I kneaded the bread.

  I guess I wasn't the only one unable to sleep. I heard Granny rattling around upstairs and then her footsteps on the stairs coming down. The door opened and I gave her as happy a smile as I could muster under the circumstances.

  She waved my effort away. "No need to pretend around me." She went over to the sink, washed up, dusted her hands with flour, and grabbed a ball of dough from me.

  "You know we can do this in the mixer," she reminded me.

  "I was feeling the need to punch things," I replied.

  "Me, too."

  As we worked the dough side-by-side, falling into a rhythm, she casually commented, "Well, your mother wants to put you on the next ferry and get you as far away from this island as she possibly can."

  "Does she?"

  "I think when she sent you here, she thought you'd be so miserable, you'd be grateful to get back to the mainland and you'd stay with her for the rest of her life."

  We rolled our eyes in unison.

  "She's never even around," I noted, giving the dough an extra punch.

  "She does what she has to do to keep you both afloat, it being just her and you."

  I thought of all the evenings I was at home alone while she stayed late at the office swearing she was in the middle of some big foreclosure on a shopping mall a thousand miles away. Of all the weekends I fended for myself while she was out at "business conventions" and came home smelling of cologne and cigarette smoke. "I've been paying rent since I was eighteen and I feel like she's more interested in me coming home to give her a financial break more than anything else."

  "I'm sure it feels that way, but she loves you..."

  I slammed the dough into the bowl to rise. "I just can't believe she sprang it on us. I mean, this came out of nowhere."

  "We both knew this day would come," Granny reminded me.

  "I just didn't know it would come so fast. I just wish she had asked me. Warned me."

  Granny paused. "Well, how about I ask you now? What do you want to do?"

  I took a moment, sorting through all of the thoughts and feelings that were swirling through my head. "I don't want to leave. Not yet."

  "Well, that's all you had to say," said Granny, giving me a smile and then a hug. She held on to me tight before letting go. "We'll just tell her you have some unfinished business here on the island."

  "But you can't afford to keep me on," I pointed out.

  "Don't you worry about me," said Granny, giving me a wink. She pulled the dough off her fingers. "I haven't lasted this long without spotting ways to get out of sticky situations."

  Chapter Six

  "We've been rocked by scandal!" an angry voice shouted from the crowd, and a murmur of agreement rippled through the room.

  Nate had called a town hall to discuss the road work and the discovery of the time capsule. What was supposed to be a nice, feel-good meeting for the town had turned into a verbal complaint box of everything he had done wrong since his uncle had died and he had been thrust into the position of being the largest landowner on the island. The town hall was filled with people wanting somewhere to aim their ire after the bakeoff debacle and the bad press.

  Nate looked over at me and rubbed his face.

  I sure did not envy him at all.

  Granny clucked her tongue and shook her head. We had agreed to come help with the refreshments, but there's some things not even a cinnamon roll can fix.

  "It's been a... difficult summer," Nate stated diplomatically.

  "It's been a DISASTER!" yelled another person. "The roadwork is going to blow through our budget, and it isn’t even winter. What happens if we get a big storm?"

  "What are you going to do about it?" piped up a third. "We're trying to run our businesses!"

  "That cruise ship port is sounding better and better!" said a feminine voice.

  My eyes shot over to see who had said it, and then narrowed. Madison was slumped in her seat with her arms crossed, trying to seem unobtrusive as she instigated from the peanut gallery.

  "We just need to find a way to refocus people's attention on all of the assets of Seaside," Nate replied, trying to calm them down.

  "I have an idea!" came a calm and clear voice.

  I knew who it was, but turned along with the rest of the crowd to double-check my fears were true.

  My ex-boyfriend was standing up in the middle of the audience, standing with his arms out like he was some sort of messiah. I noticed his curly black hair had been carefully styled and he was dressed to impress. This was no happenstance.

  "Great," said Nate, clearly just being polite. "I would love to hear what suggestions you have, Trevor."

  Trevor took in the room, his eyes soft and sympathetic as he tried to connect with each person. I had seen him play this game before and knew all these moves.

  "I am a business owner, too. And, perhaps, more than all of you, am saddled by the burden of the negative events that have taken place on our beloved island."

  "Our beloved island," Granny hissed under her breath. "He moved here two months ago and is acting like he owns the place."

  "He does own a place," I reminded her.

  "Because his uncle was a psychopath who murdered a bunch of people."

  Trevor cut us off. "One of the things I have been learning from my brilliant and gorgeous girlfriend, Madison..." He paused, sweeping his arm to her, giving credit where credit was due. She gave a little disgusted finger wave at all of us. "Is that it is necessary to control the narrative. Up until this moment, we have been responding to events rather than telling people what to think about these events. We must, as a community, take control!"

  "Very nice thought there, Travis
—" began Wanda, Granny's friend who owned the souvenir shop.

  "Trevor."

  "Whatever. But how exactly do you propose we go about 'controlling' this narrative?"

  "By hiring our own media consultants!" he announced proudly. "I propose a reality show about life on the island."

  Suddenly, one too many mentions of moviemakers had come up today. I cast a glance over at Madison, but she was as cool as a cucumber, not even signaling that it had been her idea just this morning to hire a media company to tape the opening of the time capsule, a topic that we were here to discuss. Instead, Trevor was introducing it like he had the brainchild. That girlfriend of his had her fingers on all his strings. She was pulling him like a puppet master and he was too smitten to even notice.

  "Content is being streamed into homes through multiple platforms every day. We could make a travel show about Seaside. Maybe invite some influencers here to share the beauty of our island to their followers on Instagram and Twitter."

  "You're saying you think all our problems can be solved by sharing our island with some Twats?" asked Holly.

  "They're called 'Tweepers'," Madison corrected her with an exhausted sigh.

  "Whatever," said Wanda, dismissively. She turned back to Trevor. "You think this is the solution?"

  "As the saying goes, all press is good press." He motioned to the room generously. "Unless someone has a better idea... I would be so happy to help support anything that would be more effective and helpful to those of you with businesses similarly crippled by recent events. We must rise up and claim our ownership of this island and our fate."

  I know that Trevor said it to try and inspire people to join his side, but his dig at the responsibility Nate held as landowner of most of the island was not missed. There was a general grumbling.

  Nate tried to refocus the room and remain positive. "Madison, you mentioned this idea to me earlier." The truth will set you free and that grumbling suddenly turned into knowing mutterings as everyone caught on to who was behind all this. Nate quieted them down. "I feel there is a lot of merit to it. In fact, the reason why we are all here today is because Holly made an amazing discovery that, I think, might be worthy of this sort of attention."