Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty-One
Shelby hesitated outside of Town Hall. After spending the night before prepping with Colleen, it was time to make her case for beach access for Land’s End. Shelby borrowed Duke’s car and stopped by the apartment to pick her up, but Colleen was asleep. Doug refused to wake her.
“I don’t want her pushing it,” Doug said. “Please, just handle the committee meeting the best you can.”
So she drove back to Duke’s, parked the car, and they walked to Town Hall together.
She told him she didn’t feel right about petitioning without Colleen.
“Maybe we should wait for another night, when Colleen can make it.”
He shook his head. “You’ve got this.” Reluctantly, she followed him inside.
Town Hall smelled like wood chips and cherry incense. She went for the first time four years ago, the summer between junior and senior year. Colleen’s mother Pam brought them to hear an ecological lecture that their friend’s son was giving. The auditorium was full and she’d been impressed that the speaker, Justin Lombardo, was just a few years older and already had his master’s in Marine Science.
“The waters of the Gulf of Maine, an ocean basin that spans from Cape Cod to the southern shores of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, is one of the fastest warming regions of all the planet’s oceans,” he said. He was tall, with broad shoulders, dark wavy hair, and a penetrating gaze that she felt from the third row in the audience. “For fifty years, researchers observed the area’s water temperatures slowly warming, but in the past decade, that gradual trend sharply accelerated to the concerning scenario we see today.”
After the talk, Carmen Lombardo invited Pam out and during dinner, Shelby found herself watching him across the table. She listened to everything he said even as she went through the motions of other conversation. Every time he happened to glance in her direction, she offered a smile and when he returned it, she felt it like an electric shock. For the next week or so, she hoped to run into him on the beach. She even went to Lombardo’s restaurant hoping to spot him. But the summer ended, and she and Hunter drove back to Pennsylvania for their senior year at Bryn Mawr.
The next summer, their first night back at the Dillworth house, it was unusually hot with a stifling humidity. They were eating dinner on the deck when a flash thunderstorm hit. Within minutes, trees and power lines toppled over, blocking roads and knocking out the electricity. The entire town was without power on one of the hottest nights on record.
Colleen rushed over: volunteers were meeting up at Lombardo’s restaurant to help elderly residents who lost their air-conditioning. Some homeowners had generators, but many people didn’t and the concern was that the elderly would suffer over the long hot night. The couple who owned Harbor Lounge and several properties in town offered up a house on Pearl Street as a shelter.
Two dozen people convened on the front porch of the restaurant, where Mr. and Mrs. Lombardo assigned search and rescue zones. Shelby and her friend split up in opposite directions. Shelby was tasked with checking a three-block radius on the West End. Before she reached the first house, it started pouring again. Dressed in sneakers and a T-shirt, she was drenched through in seconds. Still, she pushed forward.
She knocked on a few houses but didn’t get any response. She kept moving, making a note to check them one more time before moving on to the next street. When she knocked on a door and saw it begin to open, she felt a rush of adrenaline. She imagined an elderly couple who’d been huddled in the dark, relieved to see a friendly face in their hour of need.
But the person behind the door wasn’t a vulnerable neighbor. It was the handsome marine biologist she’d met last summer.
“Can I help you?” Justin Lombardo said. If he recognized her, he showed no sign of it.
“Oh—I’m sorry. I thought this house was on my route.” She glanced down at her phone for the text she sent herself with the radius she was supposed to cover.
“You must be off course. I’ve got this block. But come in so the cat doesn’t run out.”
Shelby stepped inside, and he closed the door behind her. The house was already overheated and had a strong floral smell. “I could use some help, actually. I’ve been here for fifteen minutes trying to get the woman who lives here to leave.” He turned on his flashlight and she blinked against the bright beam.
“I don’t care how many of you show up, I’m not going,” a female voice said from the darkness. The beam from Justin’s light danced near the woman, not directly on her, but close enough for Shelby to make out a long green robe and the fact that the woman resembled actress Maggie Smith.
“Ms. Brier, this heat is dangerous. Just come to an air-conditioned shelter until the power comes back.” Justin leaned close to Shelby and whispered, “She won’t go without her cat.”
“Understandable,” Shelby whispered back.
“How are you with animals?”
“Great,” Shelby said. The truth was, she’d never even had a pet. But she found herself volunteering to find the cat and bring it to her owner at the shelter. Shelby and Justin exchanged phone numbers to get in touch if needed.
Later, when she reconvened with Hunter and Colleen at the Dillworth house, she told them both about her little adventure. Hunter seemed particularly interested and asked her a million questions. But Shelby didn’t confide in them that she hoped to see Justin Lombardo again. It was embarrassing to have a summer crush. She was an adult now. There were more important things to think about.
Then, a few days later, Justin texted her. Then they spoke on the phone, and he invited her for a hike. He picked her up in his truck and they drove to Dune Shacks Trail. The mile walk led up and down steep hills to the ocean. They talked about their families. He was soft-spoken and serious and for a while she wondered if he was even interested in her as more than a friend. And then he kissed her at the edge of the ocean.
Now, in the Town Hall room where she’d first seen him, it took her less than thirty seconds to spot him in the front row. He’d been so kind the other night with Hunter. She hoped she’d at least have his vote today.
The town selectman, Gene Hobart, banged a gavel on top of the table where he was seated alongside five other members of the council. The room silenced itself. “The first item on tonight’s agenda is the sale of 16 MacMillan Pier, the current site of the Pirate Museum. Now, as a reminder, we’re looking at three thousand square feet with a twenty-five-foot boat slip. Prime real estate,” he said. “At issue is whether or not we expand the zoning to allow for residential use.”
The crowd erupted in chatter.
“Order, please,” Gene said, banging his gavel again. “Bert Lombardo has the floor.”
Justin’s father stood and turned to look at the room. When they first met she’d liked him immediately. He was a man who did his job without fuss or drama, with a determined “do it right or don’t do it at all” ethos. She’d sensed from the beginning how important it had been to Justin that she and his father click, and they had. So it hurt now to see his deep-set brown eyes skip over her like she was a stranger.
“Every summer we have less and less affordable housing for seasonal workers,” Bert said. “We’re failing the people who help us service the tens of thousands of tourists spending the money that, for most of us, makes our entire year. If it weren’t for generous neighbors donating their guesthouses for my line cooks, I don’t know if I’d be operational right now.” He spoke quickly, obviously uncomfortable with public speaking, but making an effort for something about which he felt strongly. When he finished, he glanced at Justin, who stood just as his father sat back down.
“I’m sure everyone in this room knows that Lombardo’s Restaurant isn’t the only business in this situation,” Justin said. “So let’s do something about it: a building’s for sale on the wharf. It could be turned into affordable housing. I’m asking that the town trust put together an offer to try to buy it.”
Shelby knew all about the town trust from her summer with Justin. The group had formed a decade ago, when the general store closed and the town missed it so much they decided to find a way to bring it back. An offshoot of the town council created a Provincetown Community Trust, raising hundreds of thousands of dollars to reopen the store and subsidize its continued operation.
The room erupted in conversation. Gene banged his gavel for silence, then called the vote. It appeared everyone raised their hand to vote yes.
“Do we have any nays?” he asked.
The room was silent. Satisfied, Bert Lombardo sat down.
Next, it was her turn. She stood, squared her shoulders, and glanced at Duke. He gave her a thumbs-up.
“Hello, everyone,” she said, clearing her throat. “I’m Shelby Archer, and I’m working with Colleen Miller at Land’s End Books. One thing we’re trying to do to keep the store competitive is host more author events. But our floor space is less than two thousand square feet and a lot of that is taken up by permanent shelving that can’t be moved to make room for an audience. I’d like permission for temporary use of the beach behind the shop, just to set up folding chairs and host events once a week.”
Justin languidly unfolded himself from his seat and once again faced the room. “As head of the Conservation Commission, I’d like to remind everyone that we voted to cap the commercial bay beach usage at forty percent, and we’ve reached that ceiling since the Buoy opened their outdoor seating.” He sat down without so much as a glance in her direction. She felt her face turn red.
What was he doing?
“Land’s End is an institution,” Shelby shot back. “The book industry has changed since the store opened and, respectfully, I think this town should help Land’s End to change with it. It’s a beloved bookshop, and it needs our support.”
Justin stood back up. “We need to draw the line somewhere to protect our beaches.”
Gene Hobart took it to a vote. Shelby lost by three.
Afterwards, as everyone filed out, she marched over to him.
“What was that all about?”
He stopped walking and ran his hand through his hair.
“I think I made myself pretty clear.” His dark eyes regarded her with detachment. People filed past them. Duke touched her arm and mouthed, See you outside .
“Are you doing this to get back at me? Is this about what happened between us?”
He shook his head, looking infuriatingly amused.
“I hate to break it to you, Shelby: not everything is about you.” He turned and walked out before she could find the words to respond.
She wished she hadn’t come to the meeting. She wished she hadn’t seen him. She wished... Actually no, she didn’t wish either of those things.
The exchange would make for great dialogue in her novel.