Chapter 30
HARLOW
She gazed toward the back door. So far, Matt had not arrived. Yet it seemed half of Sea Blue Beach filled city hall for this special town council meeting. If the room had rafters, people would be swinging from them.
Harlow sat up front with Tuesday, Dupree, and Spike. Where was Matt? He’d called from LAX to say he’d booked a flight, but she’d not heard from him since.
Audra from the Blue Plate tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, Harlow, some of us are getting up a weekly girls’ night. Want to join us?”
“Um, yeah, sure. I’d love to if I’m not working.”
Audra smiled. “I’ll talk to you next time you’re at the diner.”
Harlow whispered to Tuesday, “Audra just invited me to a girls’ night. You think she’s sincere? Like they don’t want to mock me or something. Take pictures and sell to the tabloids.”
“Listen to yourself. Of course she’s sincere. Harlow, you’re more than a pretty face,” Tuesday said. “People around here see that.”
“Can we settle down?” Harry gaveled the meeting to order. “This is a special session of the Sea Blue Beach town council on the matter of the petition requesting a vote on the eminent domain action against the Starlight roller skating rink.”
“I’m going to have to buy me a food truck, aren’t I?” Spike muttered. “Join the trucks on the beach. Doggone, I like working out of the Starlight.”
“Just wait and see, Spike,” Tuesday said, who remained remarkably calm. Harlow squeezed her hand. For her own sake more than Tuesday’s.
“I’m going to cut to the chase,” Harry said. The room stirred, restless. “We’ve carefully reviewed the signatures.”
“Harry, just get on with it.” The demand came from somewhere in the middle. “Are we getting a vote or not?”
“Hold on, Martin. I want to assure Sea Blue Beach citizens that the utmost care and integrity was used to verify every signature.”
“Harry, I could’ve verified the names in an afternoon. You’ve taken a month.”
“As you know, Marie was out with her new baby, and Lynn had been scheduled for vacation to Disney World with her grandchildren. We got to the petition when we could.” Harry raised a piece of paper. Tuesday freed her hand from Harlow’s and leaned forward. “Forty-one of the signatures were not valid registered voters.”
“That leaves us with three fifty-nine,” someone shouted. “That’s more than enough.”
“Yes, but we also had five Donald Ducks, six Lieutenant Strikers, and four Cinderellas.” He glanced at Harlow. “More than likely, the celebrities attached to the cause inspired tourists to sign. And two people signed twice. In the end, three hundred and forty-two signatures were valid, which falls short of the requirement.” Everyone talked at once, and Harry banged his gavel until Harlow felt the pounding in her chest. “The petition has failed,” he shouted. “Eminent domain proceedings for the Starlight will commence next week, with demolition sometime after Labor Day.”
In the middle of the chaos, the double doors opened, and Matt Knight walked into city hall like George Bailey, Superman, and Han Solo rolled into one, with a touch of Clint Eastwood’s steely grit.
“Matt Knight to save the day.”
“Take that, Harry Smith. Lieutenant Striker just walked in.”
“My Matty boy,” Tuesday said.
Harlow rose up to see him cutting through the crowded center aisle, speaking to folks, shaking hands.
“Matt, save your breath, there’s nothing you can do.” Harry waved the gavel over his head. “We’ve done our due diligence and—”
“Not here to see you, Harry.” Matt exited the crowded center aisle, eyes on Harlow. “Granny, you okay? We’ll figure this out.”
“I’m fine, but you do what you got to do.” She tipped her head toward Harlow.
What’s going on?
Matt grabbed Harlow’s hand and spun her into his arms, his debonair expression like one from Hollywood’s Golden Age. His gaze lingered on her lips, and for a moment she watched the scene from those would-be rafters along with the rest of the room.
He said nothing. Then, “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.” Here. Now. Please.
His warm, full lips touched hers as he wrapped her in his arms. She surrendered to the pure pleasure of it all—to every firing nerve and luscious tingle. Yet she felt more than pleasure. She felt love.
Cheers erupted to the beat of ol’ Harry’s gavel.
The kiss lingered until he rested his forehead against hers. He whispered something, but the cheering was so loud, she couldn’t make out a word. She just laughed and drew him back for a second round.
“This meeting is adjourned,” Harry said. “The petition failed. The Starlight will be demolished.” He brought his gavel down so hard the face flew off and hit Carny Albert on the head.
“Let’s get out of here.” Matt gripped Harlow’s hand and dashed down the center aisle, with Dupree helping Tuesday through the crowd as Spike hollered, “Gangway, folks, gangway.”
When they got to the double doors, Tuesday turned back to the crowded room. “Everyone who wants ... meet me at the Starlight.”
“Good job, Granny,” Matt said just before he pulled Harlow into his arms on the steps of city hall and kissed her again.
“Matt,” she said, “didn’t you hear? The petition failed.”
“Did you hear me?” Matt asked Harlow.
“With all the loud cheering? No.”
“I said I love you, Harlow Hayes. What do you think about that?”
TUESDAY
Sea Blue Beach without the Starlight. How would the world make sense? Despite the music and skaters still rounding the floor, the somber band of citizens gathered in concession foreshadowed the days ahead.
Yet seeing Matty and Harlow in love cheered her to no end. About time.
“Okay, citizens of Sea Blue Beach.” Audra’s voice needed no magnification. She could be heard into next week. “What are we going to do? We’re losing our Starlight. Don’t think you’re safe and this won’t impact you. With Harry having eminent domain power, any one of us could be next.”
“I don’t own a business, Audra,” someone said. “I work in Fort Walton.”
“Fine, Grady, but your old neighborhood could be at risk.” Audra wagged her finger at the lot standing about, arms folded. “It’s unconstitutional what Harry’s doing.”
“Federal law allows it.” This from another voice in the crowd.
“Well, it shouldn’t. Let’s start a second revolution.”
The crowd stirred, and a debate followed until Matty calmed everyone down. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if everyone had signed the petition.”
“We need to double-check the signatures, make sure Harry’s on the level.”
“I signed the petition.”
“Me too.”
“All right,” Matt said. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow, see what else we can—”
“You can do nothing.” Harry barged into the Starlight, along with the town council, Chief Grant, and Officer Patitucci. “We submitted to the process and our side won.” Harry held up a small stack of papers. “Tuesday, can we talk in your office?”
“Here I thought you came to ask me to couple’s skate.” Tuesday gazed toward Immanuel. Didn’t He have a plan? The peace and confidence she possessed earlier quickly evaporated. “We can talk here.”
She glanced at the crowd, then Matt—who nodded his approval—and Dupree, who remained stone-faced.
“I’d like to hear what you have to say too, Harry.” Audra stood next to Tuesday.
“All right. Well, here are the signatures.” He held up the papers, and Matt reached for them. “You can check for yourself. And here’s a check for the Starlight. It’s more than generous. We had it appraised, and Murdock kindly chipped in additional funds.”
Dupree took the check and skimmed the amount.
“Dup, hand that back. I’m refusing the money.” Harry might be the mayor, but to her he was still the little runt hobbling around on eight wheels.
A few weeks ago, when he came into her office to talk, he’d tried to hand her that check—with some condition she refused to hear. She’d been so confident when she turned him down. So sure Immanuel would save the rink.
“It’s a good offer, Ma.” Dupree tried to show her, but Tuesday refused to touch that devil money.
“You can’t turn it down, Tuesday. We’re taking the Starlight.” Dale Cranston shoved in beside Harry, chest puffed out for no good reason. “Chief Grant here and Officer Patitucci are hammering up the notice of demolition tonight.”
A sheepish-looking Milo held up the orange paper with bold black letters. Tuesday stumbled back, reaching for Dupree.
“Dale, simmer down,” Harry said with a soft glance toward Tuesday. “This town owes you a debt of gratitude, Tuesday, for keeping the Starlight shining. Prince Blue would be proud. However, before we pay out so much money, we’d like to see the deed, establish ownership.” He took the check from Dupree. “I’m sure you understand. We have a fiscal responsibility to the town. We’ve checked with the county records, and it seems the deed is missing. Perhaps it was never filed in the first place.”
Tuesday stepped toward him, done with decorum. “Harry, do you truly want to see the Starlight smashed with a wrecking ball?” Yes, she heard herself, pleading, like she did when Mamaw loaded up the wagon, climbed on the buckboard, and told the driver to get going.
“It’s a done deal, Tuesday.” Dale forced himself forward. “You lost.”
She glanced toward her son and grandson, then Immanuel. Her whole life, she believed the mural was the image of a real God who came to this world as a man. She’d seen and touched Him, but in this moment, Immanuel was nothing more than a figment of Prince Blue’s imagination. A Lauchtenland fairy tale. The night after Leroy died? It was a dream, re-creating the prince’s story of Immanuel appearing to him on the beach. Maybe she wanted to see Him so much, her subconscious delivered.
“I’m sorry, Tuesday,” Harry said, “but we’re moving forward with progress.”
“Then if you don’t mind,” she said, “we’d all like to skate tonight. Nora, put on some music. Everyone, free rentals. Spike, can you serve up some popcorn and sodas?”
“Tuesday.” Harry gently touched her arm. “I suggest you start packing up, holding your auction. We’ll give you the summer, but that’s the best I can do. Dup, talk to her. Can you scare up the deed for me?”
“First you’re taking the rink and now you’re trying to get out of paying.” Dupree stepped nose to nose with the mayor. “If one brick is harmed before she is paid—”
“She’ll be paid, Dup. I just want to see the deed. If not—” Darn if Harry didn’t look a bit nervous with Dupree staring him down. “She’ll be paid.”
“You do what you have to do, Mayor Smith,” Tuesday said. “We’ll do what we have to do.” A flash caught her attention, and she glanced at Immanuel, high on the rolling panels, with a twinkle in His eye. “Come on, people, let’s skate. Harlow, you can wear my old Richardsons.”
The bass of “You Dropped a Bomb on Me” filled the rink. Tuesday laughed. Nora, that girl . . . well done.
“Tuesday, there’s nothing you can do.” Dale simmered like a teakettle on her old wood-burning stove. “The Starlight is coming down.”
“Dale,” Matt said, “back off. Give her a minute.”
“I don’t care to hear from you, Hollywood.” Dale was riled up tonight. “I’ll see you in court.”
“Dale Cranston, if your mama was here, she’d be ashamed.” Tuesday wagged her finger at him. “She’d expect bigger things of you.”
“Don’t talk about my mama.”
“She was a good woman and a good friend. We all know you’re still angry Dupree got the girl you wanted, and that Matt won’t bring his movie premieres to the Midnight. Which, by the way, you’ve still not shown Flight Deck.”
What happened next will forever be one big blur. Dale’s face flamed red, and he lunged at Tuesday, his hands like claws. Harry moved forward, stumbled and tripped, causing Tuesday to fall backward. “Dupree!” The last thing she saw before hitting the carpet was Matt’s fist connecting with Dale’s chin.