Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
“Just so we’re clear, no one ever finds out that we were knocked down by a sixth grader, right?” Jack asks as they head toward town.
Lizzie nods. “Yes, nowhere in what I’m going to submit to my dad will there be anything about two millennials being taken down by a 12-year-old.”
“Good, I may not have much of a reputation around here, but I don’t want to be the lead story at our next reunion,” he says.
“Me either!” She doesn’t really want to spend more time with him, but she has to talk to him about ideas he may have for the future of Cranberry Harbor. “So my Dad told me you had some ideas you were talking to him about, are they anything you’re ready to share, or are you still figuring things out? He thought it would be a good story, but I completely respect that you may feel it’s too early to share anything.”
“Would I sound like an evasive jerk if I said I wasn’t quite ready?” He looks straight ahead on the road. “Where are we going, by the way? Are you ready to head home, or could I take you someplace else? To further evade your question.”
“I don’t have anything immediate to do,” she says, feeling like this might not be the best idea. But she’s curious about what he has in mind for the town, and thinks perhaps he’ll open up if she spends a little more time with him. As much as she’s tried to distance herself from the town she does care about its future and wants it to be a vital community. “So, sure.”
“Let’s see, we’ve had cocoa and cookies, so we don’t need more sugar. We’ve gotten some fresh air. Oh! I’ve got an idea, you trust me?”
“Yeah. Yeah-ish?” She's a little skeptical and thinks, let’s not open that can of worms, but doesn’t say that.
“I’m not sensing a lot of enthusiasm here,” he jokes, taking a right at the traffic light and heading into a more rural part of town.
“Well you didn’t exactly keep me safe ice skating, so, can I trust you? That remains to be seen.”
“You can trust me,” he keeps driving and they come to an area of town Lizzie hasn’t been to in years. No I can’t, she thinks, not with my heart at least.
“This is the spot they were going to develop and it got shot down, right?” Lizzie asks, opening her window and looking out. “It’s so beautiful.”
Jack pulls over. “Yeah, this company was going to basically clear cut it and build a bunch of huge, expensive houses.” He’s a little nervous, he turns toward Lizzie. “Okay, so this is what I’ve been thinking about. Please don’t tell anyone, not yet.” He takes a deep breath. “I am looking into creating an eco-friendly community out here that is as low-impact as possible. We could build some tiny houses, amongst some regular-sized houses, and promote farming and encourage young locals to live here. It could be a mix of people who want to create a life with the land, be it with animals or growing fruits and vegetables, artisans, and people who telecommute, or have other local jobs, and artists and entrepreneurs who are making products from local sourced materials, like soaps, oils, various food items. I’d even want a commercial kitchen on-site that could be used to make and sell food items, like there's a guy making awesome veggie burgers, and he could make them here to sell to local stores and restaurants. We’d make it affordable and doable for locals with investors, grants and subsidies. I’m thinking there could even be crossover between the two - the tech savvy folks helping the people who aren’t so much, and the people creating products and growing things teaching others about that. And I want it to be completely self-sufficient energy-wise, so we’d need your brother in on it too. It would be a combination of solar, state-of-the-art-batteries, and wind.”
“Wow, you’ve really put a lot of thought into this. Would the town ever go for it?” Lizzie asks, taking in the space, intrigued by the idea.
“That’s the thing, I don’t know. There’s always been a contingent here who laments that all the young, viable working people are leaving, but who don’t want anything to change. They want it to be like a postcard, but my feeling is that by thinking outside the box you can have both. You can keep the integrity of the town, but make it a more progressive, and forward-thinking community where small business, technology, farming and entrepreneurship can thrive.”
“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?” Lizzie asks.
He nods. “Yeah, every time I come home I keep thinking about how I had hoped to create this startup that would employ all sorts of young tech people, but I failed to take into account that they wouldn’t be able to afford to live here and relying on tech alone left out a whole lot of people who aren’t tech-centric, who want to be more creative, who want to maybe work with their hands, the land, the ocean, with animals, who want to nurture the land here, not just look at it. What do you think?” He’s so excited it takes Lizzie by surprise.
“I think it’s a really amazing idea. The problem will be wresting the land out of the hands of the town, they own it now, right?”
“They do, but it’s not registered wetlands or anything, so I know it’s buildable. We just have to convince them that while this is gorgeous, it can still be gorgeous and support a lot of the people and businesses we really need here.”
“We?” She furrows her brow. “You’re drafting me?”
“Well, I am good with technology, and I know people who would be interested in investing, you’re the one who’s good with words.”
Lizzie opens the car door and gets out. She shivers a little, it’s windy and flurrying a bit. It is absolutely beautiful. Jack gets out of the car too, and walks over to her side and leans against the door. She feels torn about doing anything to change this property, but also knows that Jack is correct about so many things, and if it could be developed in the right way it could be an example to other rural communities on how to develop thoughtfully and graciously with the environment, and bring jobs and housing.
“You know I’m only here for a short time, right? I can help you while I’m here, but I’m not planning to move back.” She feels her back stiffen. She will not be convinced to come back here, especially for him, even if this is the most exciting idea for the town she’s ever heard of.
He looks a bit disappointed, but Lizzie has never been anything but clear about not staying in Cranberry Harbor. “Yeah, I know. If you could just help me draft a proposal to the town, and maybe even the county, that would be great. I’m good with the numbers, and the projections, it’s making it flow thoughtfully I’m not so good at.”
She nods. “Of course I can help you with that.” She leans against the car too. “It is pretty amazing to think of what could be here. To have people raising goats and chickens next to the house where the next big technology breakthrough is happening is pretty incredible.”
He smiles a huge smile and starts pacing in the new snow. “I know! It could be a total game changer!” He stops. “It would be like taking everything I love and putting it all together into one project.”
“You mentioned investors, you’ve got people who are seriously interested?”
“I do, nothing set in stone yet, because I don’t even know if it can happen, but I know a lot of people in California with a lot of money who are interested in projects just like this. Ways that we can thoughtfully grow communities and not ruin what already exists both in terms of the environment and the people who live there. And we need good, local journalism telling people what’s going on, and getting them on board.”
“Yeah, because all too often big tech moves in, real estate prices soar and the people who actually live there can’t find any place to live because these monster companies take over everything, I’d never want that to happen to Cranberry Harbor, or for some corporation to come in and take over the Gazette,” Lizzie says.
“Me either. That’s why I’d want a board with people like your Dad, your Mom, and other locals who would always keep things in balance.”
“So this would be a nonprofit?” she asks.
“Yes, some type of nonprofit, or maybe a B corp, not sure what yet,” he says. “I need to do more research. But a B corp would be a way to have public transparency, and make sure we’re held accountable to fulfill our mission. There’s someone I know in California who’s really good with that stuff so I’d ask them for guidance. Sorry, this is probably really boring.”
“No, not at all, I’m just getting cold,” Lizzie says, starting to shiver and gets back in the car. Jack comes around and gets back in too.
“Thank you for trusting me with this,” says Lizzie fastening her seatbelt. “I won’t tell anyone. I’ll give my dad a little idea, but not everything. Just to calm him down until you’re ready to talk more.”
“Thank you for not thinking I’m crazy for thinking about this.” He starts the car and the heat comes on, warming them both up.
“I think the world needs more windmill tilters.” She looks out the window as they drive along. She’s really impressed by the thought and expertise Jack has put into this idea. It’s just the kind of future-building the town needs. What she’s not so sure about is spending time with him, about letting her guard down. She’s still angry and hurt, but he is a good guy. How does one reconcile that?
“Would you mind if I stopped at Sea Coast and grabbed a coffee? I can be fast, I just need a caffeine boost before I start in on some work,” Jack says.
“Not at all, I could use some too,” Lizzie says as he pulls into a parking spot. “I’ll come in with you.”
“Should we get it to go, or do you want to grab a table?” Jack asks.
Lizzie looks up at the menu on the wall and realizes she’s really hungry, it’s well past lunchtime. “Would you mind if I got something to eat really quick? I’ve got a bunch of writing to do and am suddenly feeling famished.”
“I could eat too, what do you want?” he asks, turning to look at the menu as well.
“Uh, maybe the mac and cheese? And a latte,” she takes out her wallet.
Jack pushes her money away, “Stop, I’ve got this.”
“You sure?” She says, still holding out a ten dollar bill.
“I’m sure, I can handle this. You can go sit down if you want, and I’ll bring it over,” he says.
Lizzie barely had time to sit down and check her email before Jack was there with a tray.
“Thank you, for this,” she says as she takes her cup of very warm mac and cheese off the tray. “Sure I can’t pay you back?”
He smiles, “No, I can handle it, it’s a pleasure to buy you some lunch.” He picks up his panini sandwich and takes a bite. “Hmmm, this is amazing, I always ask for extra pesto and it’s incredible. I’d offer you a bite but I know you don’t like pesto.” He closes his eyes and chews.
Lizzie had forgotten this detail. Jack loved food, Actually he loved anything that he was doing. She had never known someone who so enjoyed everything from a walk on the beach, to skateboarding to, well, a sandwich. Jack savored life, and when they were together he helped slow her down enough to do so too. She had a way of speeding through things, not always noticing everything she could have, Jack was good for her in that way. She often thought about his thoughtful approach to math problems, coding and everything tech, while she was always on deadline and rushing to get to the next item on her list. She’d always thought that was what made them a good match. Until he shocked her and everyone in town by bailing on her and Cranberry Harbor.
“I really like that they’re not using plastic utensils anymore,” she notes, unsure of what to talk about.
“Yeah, Leah has really helped Hope get up to speed with more eco-friendly practices. Everything is either reusable, or biodegradable now, and there’s a guy who has a local farm who picks up waste from all the restaurants and composts it. These cups, your bowl, my plate? They all turn into compost.”
“I know, I actually interviewed her about the festival and making it greener. I wish more places in Boston were doing that. I’d love to talk to the farmer who’s doing the composting,”
Jack laughs, “Look at you, already all-in about telling local stories.”
“You’re right, I’m going to do some festival stories, and that’s it. I am not getting invested.” She sits back and drinks her coffee. She doesn’t want to let down her guard or let him in too much, so she once again deflects. “So besides thinking about this project, what else are you doing while you’re here?”
“No, no no, you can’t change the subject that easily,” he says. “You’re already invested, Lizzie, because whether you want to admit it or not, you care about this town. Just like I do. Just because we move away doesn’t mean we don’t care what goes on here.”
“Fine, so I care. What are you doing?” she asks again, determined to not give up, always the reporter, she will just keep asking and Jack knows it.
“Honestly? I’m not sure. I’m doing some work remotely, but I’m mostly trying to figure some things out.”
“Like?”
“You’re determined to get a story, aren't you?” he laughs. “I meant it when I said I don’t know. There’s a lot I like about California, but I know deep down I’m an East Coaster. I miss the seasons, I miss the people.” He’s quiet for a moment. “There’s something about the intensity of working in the atmosphere of the place where it’s all happening that is exciting, but pretty exhausting as well. It’s work 24/7 and I miss having balance. Going for a walk on the beach, taking my sailboat out, working in a garden.”
Lizzie crinkles her forehead, “You never had a garden.”
“Well, I could have a garden if I didn’t work all the time.” he says. “I mean, don’t you find that too? Isn’t working in journalism at that level intense?”
She nods her head. “Oh, you have no idea. It’s always speed and quantity over quality now, and I feel like a writing bot sometimes, not a person. I swear if Greylock, the company that now owns the Sentinel, could find a way to run a newspaper without writers they would. We’re just a necessary nuisance to them at this point. All creativity is gone, it’s just how fast can you spit this story out and get it up on the website.”
Jack is quiet. “So what are we both doing?”
“I don’t know. Getting better at what we do? Learning? Advancing our careers?” She’s quiet for a moment. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We did have a different plan, remember?” Her pulse quickens and she picks up her napkin and begins twisting it. She’s been holding all this in for so long. “We could have made it work, but you decided we couldn’t.”
Jack sits back and takes a deep breath. “You’re right.” He looks at her directly, he’s not hiding from her honesty. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about you, about the life we had planned and how I blew it. I am so, so sorry, Lizzie.”
“Yeah, you did blow it,” she says, not giving him an inch. “But the good news is I got to see that now rather than ten years from now.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Jack says, now leaning forward on the table, his hands tightly gripped together.
“That when we got hit with a crisis–your venture not working out– ”
“Completely failing, and losing hundreds of thousands, actually millions, of dollars,” he corrects her.
“Fine, however you choose to describe it, when things got hard, really hard, instead of working with me, treating me like a partner, you turned away from me. I’m just glad I found that out before I’d invested more years of my life, before we had a couple of kids, and owned a home. It was good for me to see how things would go,” she says cooly.
It’s getting tense at this tiny round table.
Jack leans back again in his seat. Lizzie can’t tell what he’s thinking, his expression is giving nothing away.
“I have to admit, I never thought of it like that,” he says, running his hands through his hair and sighing. “I failed you, I failed us.” He looks out the window at the snow that’s started falling again. “I was so ashamed of how wrong things had gone, at how all my planning and calculations and predictors had been wrong. All I could think was I didn’t want to burden you with my failure. I didn’t want you tied to a failure. You deserve the best of everything and I didn’t want to take you down with me. I was completely wrong, and I will spend the rest of my life regretting how I handled it.”
“I had thought we were a team, that we’d face whatever life threw at us together. I wasn’t judging you, I wanted to help you,” Lizzie says, choking up. “We just didn’t end up having the same idea of what a marriage and partnership is, like I said, better to have found out sooner than later.”
Lizzie wants to end this discussion and move on. She’s said what she needed to, no need to keep going over it.
“So you don’t know when you’re going back to California?” Lizzie asks, shifting the conversation away from the past.
“I don’t know,” he looks like he’s reeling from all Lizzie has laid on him. “I may take a break to work off-site for a bit to figure some things out.”
“They let you do that?” Lizzie asks enviously. “You can go on a kind of walkabout?”
“We’re all given time for sabbaticals every three years. They say it’s a way to encourage people to get creative, but I think it’s because after three years people are burned out and need a break. It’s a sneaky way of getting people not to quit. And what often happens is as people buy houses, have kids etcetera, they’re sewed in, they can’t leave, so lots don’t.”
“Are you?”
“Am I leaving?”
“Yeah, I have to say it’s hard to picture you living back here,” she says. “You seem like you’ve outgrown Cranberry Harbor. But you talk about these plans that seem like they would be impossible to implement remotely.”
“That is very true. I need to figure out what there would be to come back to, though,” he says as he plays with his coffee cup, swirling the contents around. “I burned a lot of bridges, clearly. I'm trying to figure out if a return would be welcome, or a bad idea for all involved.”
She’s quiet. “I don’t think all your bridges are burned, maybe just singed.” Despite everything she does care what happens to him. “I’m sure your family would love to have you back.”
He laughs, “Oh, you have no idea, my mom keeps leaving real estate ads on my bed and circling stories in the Gazette about the need for more young people here to create opportunities and move the town toward the future. I’m just not sure where I fit into the grand scheme of things. My last venture was such a flop, I worry about letting people down again with this new idea. Who would trust me?”
“I don’t think you were a flop. If anything I think you came with your ideas before people were ready to listen. A lot has changed, people are more attuned to having their job look different than it may have even just three years ago.”
“You’re probably right, but I don’t know…I don’t even know that many people here anymore, do you? I mean, other than family?”
“Not really, most everyone I knew left. Ben, and now Alexis are the only ones of my close friends here.”
“Yeah, me too. A couple of guys I played soccer with are here doing construction,” he says.
It’s hard to return to easy chit-chat after the conversation they just had, so Lizzie decides to cut and run. “Thanks so much for the lunch, the skating,” she cocks her head about the skating, which wasn’t the greatest, “and for taking me out to see the property and hear about your plans.” She stands up. “I am going to head over to the Gazette and get that story done and see how my dad is doing.”
Jack stands too. “Lizzie, I meant it when I said I was sorry. I know sorry hardly covers it, but I–”
She puts up her hand. “We’re okay, Jack, really. I appreciate the apology. I really do. I’m fine.”
“Could we maybe be...friends? I know it’s a lot to ask,” he says.
She looks at him and he looks so sad. “A couple of days ago I would have said absolutely not, but maybe.”
“Well, a maybe is a lot better than absolutely not, so I will take that,” he says.
Lizzie gathers her things, puts her mother’s funky hat on and turns to go. “Thanks for a good day. And for listening to me.”
“Any time,” he says. “I’m sorry it took so long for us to have that conversation, and for me to apologize.”
“It’s good, we’re good,” she says. She turns to leave and turns back. “Can I just ask you one thing?”
“Of course, I owe you that,” he says, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously.
“You just gave up, you stopped calling, you never came to see me, you didn’t fight for me at all,” she says.
“I did call, Lizzie, for weeks, and then you told me not to. I didn’t want to foist myself on you. I was respecting your wishes,” he says. He looks down at the floor. “And I did make the big, bold move. Months after you told me not to call I spontaneously got on a plane and flew to Boston. I went to your building and sat outside. I sat on a curb for a couple of hours. It got dark and you came home with a guy. You were laughing and having fun. It looked like you’d moved on, so I left.”
“I don’t remember that night, or who that was,” she says. “I had no idea you came to see me.”
“After that I decided I needed to let you go, so I stopped thinking I could ever fix things.”
Lizzie feels really sad, and realizes she has jumped to a lot of conclusions. “This doesn’t erase all the hurt, but it helps explain things. Thanks.” She starts to leave.
“So maybe I’ll see you at Santa and Mrs. Claus’s arrival at the cove tomorrow, and pancakes? Jack asks.
“I will be there, wearing stretchy pants.” she jokes.
“It’s a date, er, a plan, I’ll see you there.”
Apropos of nothing, Lizzie high-fives him, “I have no idea why I did that,” she says, shaking her head.
“It’s cool, I like a nice high-five once in a while,” and they both laugh.
As she heads to the Gazette she hopes she hasn’t made a huge mistake taking down that wall by a few, well, it seems maybe by many bricks. But as she walks she feels lighter than she has in what feels like forever. A smile spontaneously crosses her face. She feels happy for the first time in a long time, and it feels good.