Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
By the time Lizzie woke up, a little after 9, both her parents and Daisy were gone. There’s a note on the coffeemaker–her Mom knows her so well, she knew that would be her first stop upon waking.
“Gone to drop off the cookies at Town Hall, and then taking Daisy to the groomer for a quick trim. Dad’s at the paper, of course. Love you, Mom.”
Lizzie sets the note aside, grinds some beans, and makes herself some coffee. As she waits for it to drip through, she checks her phone for messages, emails, missed calls and of course, Instagram. It bothers her that it is so hard to just sit and look out at the sun shining on the snow. It has been forever since she’d unplugged, forever as in never. She toasts a bagel and once both the coffee and it are done she takes them to a cozy chair by the Christmas tree and curls up.
While she’s sitting there contemplating turning off her phone for the day it rings. “Hey Dad,” she said with a mouth full of bagel.
“That column you wrote? You did that last night?”
She’s quiet for a second, she’d actually forgotten about it until just now. “Yeah. You don’t have to run it, it's really not festival related-”
“Are you kidding? I love it, I might save it though for the next issue. I think it’s a perfect, ‘what do we want our New Year to look like?’ piece for that issue.”
“Like I said, I was just rambling, it’s not anything I am feeling all that precious about, you won’t hurt my feelings if you just scrap it.”
“Lizzie, this is beautiful. I haven’t seen anything like this from you in a long time. I mean, your Sentinel stories are obviously not personal. This really choked me up.”
“Aw, Dad, that’s so sweet of you.”
“What I wouldn't give to have that voice in this paper all the time,” he teases. “But I can’t afford you. I just had to call and say I loved it, and your other stories too.”
“Thanks, Dad, that means a lot. How’s it going? What else can I do? I’ve got a whole lot of nothing on my plate today.”
“Well, since you offered, could you go by the Marshview Inn and talk to Ben Knowles about his wreath making class?”
“Sure, it would be fun to see him, is he expecting me?” she asks, finishing up her bagel.
“Yes, I told them I’d be sending you over. I felt very official, like I had a staff again,” he laughs.
“Okay, I’ll get myself together and head over.”
“Thanks, darlin’, I would be sunk without you.”
They hang up, Lizzie quickly puts her dishes in the dishwasher and runs upstairs to get dressed. This is not the vacation she had planned… it’s actually so much better! As she slips on some jeans, t-shirt and sweater she feels excited. A quick brush of her teeth, and a little makeup and she’s ready to go. She’s excited to have been able to connect with so many great people in town. The Patels, Leah, and now Ben, she’d forgotten what community can be like. It was warm and comforting.
In less than twenty minutes she’s on the road to the inn. The Marshview Inn had one of the most beautiful long, winding driveways Lizzie had ever seen. Growing up in Cranberry Harbor it was always fun to have a reason to go there. It was cinematic in its beauty. When she arrives at the top of the hill she’s greeted by a stunning 19th century mansion with a porch that wraps all the way around the front, perfectly decorated for the holidays of course, with greens with thick red ribbon woven through. It must be gorgeous at night, she thinks.
She’s starting to ascend the stairs when the door opens, “This can’t be real, Lizzie Martin, as I live and breathe, please tell me you’re staying forever,” Ben jokes.
“Not exactly, sorry,” Lizzie says, smiling at him. “I think my Dad told you I’d be coming by?”
Ben reaches out to hug her. “He did! It’s so nice to see you, I haven’t seen you in way too long.” He turns and opens the door, “Come on in, it’s freezing out here.”
The entry way is just as beautiful as the exterior. It’s all so perfectly done. The perfect combination of festive and fun. Lizzie hasn’t been to the inn since high school when they hosted a breakfast for seniors. Ben and Sean have updated it, but still kept its historical charm.
“Ben, this place is amazing, you have done an incredible job,” says Lizzie, putting her coat over her arm. “When I drove up I felt like I was in a Bing Crosby movie, it’s stunning.”
“Let me take that for you,” Ben says,taking her coat. “Would you like some cocoa? Coffee? Tea? We’ve got it all!”
“I’d love some coffee, if it’s not a pain,” she says. She’s still taking in the surroundings, the art, which is exquisite, though not of the period. Still, it all works.
“No problem at all, we have this fantastic coffee from this local couple who’ve created this great roasting company with coffee beans they import from Colombia. How do you take it?”
“Just some milk, please, thanks so much.” She’s still taking in her surroundings. The place is just incredible.
Ben directs her to a living room with a fire that’s snapping and crackling. “This should be a good place to sit. Sean will be here in a minute, he was just finishing something up in the studio.”
He’s back in a flash with her coffee. “Here you go, take a sip. I think you’ll be impressed.”
“Wow, you did not oversell, this is incredible. It’s rich, yet mild, it’s delicious.” She puts her cup down on the table near her. “So he’s an artist? Sean, I mean,” Lizzie asks.
“Yeah, lots of these paintings are his. Not all, some are from friends he went to school with at RISD. It’s been interesting to meld all our interests and passions together in this one place.”
“Last I knew you were a chef in Portland, right?” asks Lizzie, taking out her pen and pad.
“Yeah, I went to Johnson and Wales in Providence. I met Sean when he was at RISD, and then came back here and worked for my parents for a while, then decided I needed an experience off Cape, and we ended up in Maine.”
Sean, a tall man with bright blue eyes comes in, wiping his hands on a towel. “Hey, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I assume Ben offered you something?”
“Yes! I have this amazing local coffee right here,” she says, picking up her cup and taking another sip.
“I’m Lizzie Martin, by the way,” she stands and reaches out to shake Sean’s hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Sean,” he says, smiling at her. “I love meeting people Ben grew up with, it’s so fun. There are so few of you around.”
“Yeah, there’s not a lot of us for sure,” she says, sitting back down. “We had a lot of fun together, it was an interesting place to grow up,” she says. “We had to make our own fun a lot of the time, but we had a great childhood.”
“We did,” Ben agrees, “and only got into trouble a few times,” he laughs.
“Yes” Lizzie says, remembering a few incidents, like TP’ing the principal’s house one Halloween, and letting all the frogs loose from the biology department in Seymour Pond. Which had definitely been Jack’s idea.
“I don’t want to take up your whole morning, so let me get to it.” She takes out her notebook and pen. “So my Dad said that you are going to be hosting sessions on creating wreaths from items found locally?”
Ben laughs, “That sounds like it could really be terrible, doesn’t it? Like we’re going to be hanging some old sticks and brown leaves on your door?”
“I wouldn’t say that–” Lizzie demurs.
“But hey, stick a bow on it and it will be gorgeous!” Sean jokes.“I’ll admit when Ben told me what he wanted to do I thought it was a little iffy, but I think it’s going to be very cool, even more so if we call it ‘Earth Art,’ he laughs.
“Hey, it’s going to be great,” he gives Sean a gentle nudge. “I know it sounds a little hokey, but the thing is, it’s so much better for the environment if you don’t buy balsam wreaths and swags, and make your own decorations from locally sourced vegetation. Our brand here is farm to table and we’ve created pretty extensive gardens, and I source lots of items from other local farms too.”
“So when people come to your workshop they will leave with a swag or wreath made up of…what?” Lizzie asks, writing everything down.
“We have an abundance of spruce on the Cape so there will be lots of that for a strong base, and I have a lot of dried lavender bundles, winterberry, rose hips, juniper, and various berries and other dried herbs which will make them smell really nice,” Ben says. “Oh, and one day at the post office, I randomly ran into Jill Mayo whose parents owned–”
“The old fabric store,” Lizzie says.
“Yeah! And she’d heard I was doing this and she told me she had a ton of vintage ribbons in her garage leftover from the shop and said we could have them. They are super retro and really cool. I can guarantee no one will have a wreath like yours when you’re done.”
“This is sounding very cool and creative,” Lizzie says as she’s quickly writing everything down. I may have to come by and make one myself.”
“You definitely should, it’s going to be a lot of fun and I’m worried no one will come, so we need some ringers,” Sean teases.
There’s a knock on the door, “I’ll get it,” Ben says, jumping to his feet, “It’s probably the firewood delivery.”
He returns in a minute accompanied by Jack.
“I’m sorry, I feel like I’m interrupting something, I can come back later,” Jack says as soon as he enters, looking at Lizzie. “I just wanted to return your notebook,” he says, handing an overstuffed, worn binder to Sean.
“Actually, I’m about done, anyway,” she says, putting her things in her bag. “Oh, I need a few photos,” she says, getting ready to stand.
“Please don’t go yet,” Ben says. “It’s been way too long since we’ve all hung out, please? Just for a little while? And I can send you photos. We have plenty.”
Lizzie isn’t sure how long she wants to stay, but puts her things down. “Sure, I can visit for a minute.”
“Coffee, Jack?”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” he says, sitting down across from Lizzie. “So, thanks for the notes. They gave me some ideas for what we might be able to do,” Jack says to Sean.
“Jack was over the other day and we were talking about how many artists, farmers, fisherfolk, food creators and stuff, and how nothing is at all coordinated on how to find people and their products.” says Sean.
Lizzie is impressed that Jack is trying to help all these people in Cranberry Harbor. “Are there that many entrepreneur types here? I’m really out of the loop.”
“Yeah, looking at the list Sean and Ben have there’s easily a couple of dozen right here, and I think if people had assurance that there was a way to actually get the word out, and it wasn’t all up to them, probably more would jump in,” says Jack.
“I want to set up a time to talk with some of the people who want to be involved, but right now I want to catch up with you two,” Ben says, putting another log on the fire.“So how are things in both your lives going?”
Lizzie and Jack look at each other.
“Wow, way to start with something light, Ben!” Jack laughs. “You go,” Jack says, nodding at Lizzie. “I think I need a minute to think about this.”
“Uh, hmmm,” she offers, not exactly sure herself of what to say.
“That good?” Ben laughs sitting back down. An ‘uh hmm’ doesn’t sound great.”
“It’s complicated?” she finally lands on. “I always loved the idea of living in Boston, and getting to write for a paper like the Sentinel that’s been around for over 150 years, but it’s not the same. I mean, of course it’s not the same as it was 150 years ago, but it’s not the same as it was 20 years ago, or even ten. And the thing is, it’s not that people don’t want good writing and good stories, it’s just that big corporations come in, buy good newspapers, and it’s basically death by a thousand papercuts - literally and figuratively. Like what my Dad is doing here? It’s not sustainable as it is, and it makes me so sad. Sorry, that’s probably way more than you wanted or needed to know!”
“Your Dad is amazing, how he and Stan turn that paper out every week, just the two of them? It’s incredible, and it really is the lifeblood of this community, I look forward to it every Thursday,” Ben says.
“And what’s your story, Jack? The tech world has to be pretty interesting in Cali?” Ben asks.
Jack takes a sip of his coffee and sits back in his chair. “I’m torn, let me just say that.”
“Oh man, you can’t leave it at that! That’s just cruel!” presses Sean.
Jack laughs. “I’m not being vague to be interesting, I'm being vague because I literally don’t have a clue as to what I’m doing right now.”
Everyone is quiet.
“I think you’re saying the thing so many of us feel and think we’re not supposed to say,” Lizzie says. “I’m not so sure about what I’m doing. It’s hard to say that. To be in your early 30s when so many people our age are married, happy, and seem to be living the dream, like you two, and lots of us seem aeons away from that, and it feels like you’re not doing it right.”
“Do you ever think of coming back here and starting something up?” Ben asks Jack.
“Maybe?” Jack says completely unsure. “It’s so damn hard to get anything off the ground here, and we need a way to retain, or bring back more young working adults here. Retirees? We’ve got plenty. Young adults who want to help build a startup? Not so much. I ran into that four years ago, and it was not good.”
“It’s really hard to find balance,” says Ben. “We’re really lucky that my parents pretty much handed us this business, though that said, in the high season it’s 100 hour work weeks, but we really like meeting people. Most of the people,” they look at each other and laugh.
“Yeah, there’s always a few challenging ones every summer, but for the most part it’s good. And when it’s quiet I get lots of time to paint and sculpt, and that’s really nice.”
“This coffee is so good,” Lizzie says, relaxing into the couch. “It’s pretty incredible that something this good is roasted right here.”
“That’s the thing, there are so many of us here who are building businesses and creating locally, but there’s nothing that really connects it all.”
“That’s why I’m leaning toward an app,” Jack says, “something that connects all the locally sourced and produced products and in turn connects the creators with businesses and people to buy their products? That’s what I’m thinking about anyway. All those notes you gave me? That's what kept coming back to me. An app that could connect it all.”
“You know a couple of us have talked about that but none of us has the expertise, that’s something you’d know how to do?” Sean asks, sounding hopeful.
“Yeah, heck, yeah,”says Jack. “Are you sure people would be into doing that? I know entrepreneurs can get very territorial.”
“I’m positive. There’s tons of people making soaps, lotions, cheeses, herbal tinctures, bread, wine, kombucha, there’s so much happening and it’s all sort of underground and not coordinated in any meaningful way, I totally think they’d be all in,” says Sean.
“Are we witnessing the birth of a business idea, here, gentleman?” Lizzie jokes.
“It could be,” says Jack. “I mean it’s not like it’s going to make anyone rich, but it could be the start of something.”
Lizzie knows Jack well enough to see the wheels turning and it’s fun to watch his creative and technical brain at work.
“Well, I should get going. Goodness knows what else my dad has up his sleeve for me today,” Lizzie says.
Ben stands up and gives Lizzie a hug. “It was so good to see you, I hope it’s not the only time while you’re here.”
“Absolutely, I’m sure we have lots more chances to meet up.” Ben helps her on with her coat. “Sean, it was lovely to meet you,” she hugs him. Jack, who is not leaving right away, gives her a small wave. “I seem to see you everywhere, so I will just be expecting to run into you probably later today,” she says and waves back.
She gets in her car, waving goodbye to Ben and Sean, and wonders if she will ever feel that settled and happy.