Chapter 32
CHAPTER 32
Jack never did materialize at their table, but Lizzie had a wonderful Christmas time... to quote Sir Paul McCartney. At the very end a whole bunch of them, including Lizzie, got up and sang a rousing, or ear shattering, depending on one's perspective, edition of We Wish You a Merry Christmas. Lizzie couldn’t even say it was the wine, she hadn’t even finished that one glass and had switched to club soda.
As she and her table of friends spill out into the parking lot, they exchange hugs and good wishes. Ben hugs her, takes her by the shoulders and says, “I’m so glad you’re back. This town needs you. We need you. And whatever is going on with Jack? It’s going to be okay. I just know it.”
Lizzie sighs. “I sure hope you’re right,” she says, squeezing him back. “I’m really glad I’m here too. I never, ever thought I’d come back, but it feels right.”
“I’m glad,” he says, giving her a kiss on the cheek and letting her go. “If we don’t see you before the big day, Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you, too!” Lizzie says back. Alexis is parked next to her, and about to get in her car.
“You did really well tonight, Martin, I’m very proud of you. And I hope someday you will forgive me for forcing you on that stage,” she smiles a ‘sorry, not really sorry’ smile at her.
“Already forgiven. I need someone to push me out of my comfort zone once in a while, so thanks for being that person.” She presses the button on her keys and unlocks the door. “Hey,” she calls to Alexis, “Was it my imagination or was Jack there, in the back, and then left without even saying hi?”
“I saw him too, I don’t know what happened.”
“I do. He’s mad at me.”
“Stop making assumptions, look at the trouble you got yourself into doing that. You don’t know what he’s thinking, so don’t project your worst fears onto him, okay?”
Lizzie takes a deep breath, lets it out, and watches it form a cold cloud in front of her. “You’re right, I will try to not do that, though I am very good at it.”
“There is no try, only do,” Alexis laughs as she gets into her car.
“Okay, good night, Yoda,” Lizzie says, starting her car and heading home.
As she gets into bed, after carefully hanging up her grandmother’s dress, she checks her phone one last time to see if Jack has called or texted. Nope. She turns out the light, curls up on her side, and eventually drifts off to sleep.
Early the next morning Lizzie is startled awake by her phone ringing, and receiving texts at the same time. She picks it up off the nightstand, and groggily says hello.
“Hey, it’s me, can you meet me at the property in a half hour?”
As she wakes up she realizes it’s Jack. She looks at the clock, it’s 7:45. “Can we say, 8:30? I’m still in bed, and-”
“Fine, 8:30. I’ll see you there, bring your dad, okay?” and he’s gone.
Lizzie shakes off her sleepiness, picks out some jeans and a sweater, and heads to the bathroom. She washes her face, brushes her teeth, and puts on a little makeup. What the heck could this be about? Why so cryptic and clipped?
When she gets downstairs her dad is already dressed, drinking coffee and reading the Sentinel. “I am not renewing our subscription,” he says by way of apologizing for reading the paper that dumped her. “But, while it’s still being delivered, why not read it before it goes into the recycling bin?”
“It’s fine Dad, you don’t have to apologize.” She pours herself some coffee. “So I just got a weird call from Jack, he wants us to meet him at–”
“The property outside town? Yeah, he texted me too. Any idea what it’s about?”
“Not a clue.” She looks at the clock on the oven. “We should head out in a couple of minutes. This is not how I expected to spend Christmas Eve, that’s for sure.”
“Me either, it’s kind of fun, our first journalism adventure as a team,” he says, finishing the rest of his coffee.
“Yeah, I just wish I could shake the uneasy feeling I have, like he’s going to sue the town, or they’re suing him, something not good and involving lawsuits,” Lizzie says, concerned.
“You need to stop watching all those procedurals, things don’t always involve lawsuits, prosecution or jail time, honey,” he says trying to calm her down.
“You say that now,” Lizzie says as she finishes her coffee and puts the mug on the counter, “But mark my words, something’s going to happen. I think I’ve spent too much time covering politics, not a beat that instills positive feelings about towns, cities and government.”
“There’s only one way to find out, let’s go,” Peter says, putting on his coat and hat.
As Lizzie puts hers on too, she is suddenly aware her mom isn't around, nor the dog. “Where’s Mom?” she asks as they head into the garage.
“I’m not sure. She said she had a quick errand to run, but wouldn’t say what.”
They get in Peter’s car. “Yet another mystery to be solved,” Lizzie says, fastening her seatbelt.
When they arrive, there are a few cars there, including one that’s quite fancy, like something a rock star would travel in. Peter pulls the car over to the side, behind the other cars and one truck.
Jack sprints over. “Thank you both for coming here on such short notice. I didn’t know Grace and Ellis were going to be coming here until about two hours ago.” Lizzie has never seen Jack so nervous. Well, except when he proposed to her four years ago. On Christmas Eve, coincidently.
“Grace and Ellis? Grace and Ellis Parker? The billionaires?” Peter asks, not quite believing it.
Jack nods.
“Before we go over there, Jack, I just want to apologize-” Lizzie says, trying to smooth things over.
Jack stops her. “No, it’s all good. It actually proved to be kind of fortuitous. You’ll see. Come on, I want you to meet them.”
“Grace and Ellis Parker, this is Peter Martin, the owner and editor of the Cranberry Harbor Gazette, the best paper in town.”
Peter laughs and extends his hand, “The only paper in town, it’s so nice to meet you both, but Jack misspoke, I am now the co-owner and co-editor, this is my daughter, Lizzie, who now runs the paper with me.”
“Hello, it’s lovely to meet you,” they both say, shaking their hands.
“When Jack reached out to us we happened to be on our way to Truro for Christmas with our son and his family who live there, so the timing was perfect,” says Grace.
Lizzie is feeling a little agog. She has read about the Parkers, of course, everyone has. She even watched Grace’s TED Talk several times about climate change and their commitment to doing what they can to help the cause. It was inspiring, they are inspiring.
“We absolutely love the Cape,” says Ellis, a diminutive man with salt and pepper hair, and a warm, engaging smile. “When our son moved here five years ago we started to get to know another side of the Cape, the year-round side. Through him we got to know the struggle for housing, for work, and of course, concern about erosion, wastewater and all that comes with climate change and not putting the environment first.”
Jack steps in, “The Parker’s and I have some mutual friends, hard to believe, but we do,” he laughs. “When they heard about this project that I’ve been working on they told him they’d like to see the property, and possibly invest.”
“So here we are,” says Grace.
Tom Jenkins, the town manager emerges from one of the cars. Lizzie’s heart sinks, figuring this will be the kiss of death to the project.
“I just got off the phone with the members of the select board, and they’ve agreed that the community would most definitely benefit from this project. We just need to sell it at a special town meeting. I can’t promise anything yet, but we’re willing to explore the project idea. That is if, Mr. and Mrs. Parker, you want to proceed?”
Peter and Lizzie look at each other, Tom Jenkins had never been this cordial in all the years he’d been in office. Lizzie suspects he’s a little awestruck by the Parkers as well. Whatever the reason he’s being so agreeable, she is not going to question it.
Ellis and Grace look at each other and nod. “We’re in,” Ellis says. “But wait, there’s one other thing.”
Everyone looks concerned. Ellis turns to Lizzie and Peter. “Jack filled me in about the struggles you’re having at the paper, Peter and Lizzie. It’s a really tough time for independent newspapers, I know. I have friends who are some of the ones buying them all up.”
Lizzie and Peter look at each other and wonder where this is going. “Grace and I are planning to spend more time here, a lot more time, and want to find ways, like with this project, to help the community. One way we think to do that is by investing in local, independent journalism.”
“I used to be a features writer, way back in the day,” Grace says. “I love newspapers and think they’re vital to the communities they serve.” She looks at her husband, “So, we were thinking that we, along with some other friends, would like to invest in the Cranberry Harbor Gazette so we can insure its future. If that would be okay with you both? We want no say in the content, we will be completely hands-off, we just want to make sure it is viable and financially healthy and able to continue.”
Peter and Lizzie are stunned, and speechless. Finally Peter says, “I am…” he can’t find the words. “I am shocked. Well, first, thank you, and oh my god, yes, thank you, we’d love to work with you! I never in a million years would have thought of something like this.”
“Honestly, we hadn’t thought of it either. It was Jack, he really sold us on the importance of the Gazette to the community.”
Lizzie has been silent, and is completely stunned that it was Jack who made this happen for the community, and for her family.
As everyone is shaking hands and congratulating each other she walks over to him.
“I can’t believe you did all this,” she says, still in shock. “I can never thank you enough for helping to save the paper. You are...”
“I did it because it’s the right thing to do. This town needs the paper, it needs your dad, and it needs you.”
“I can never repay you for this,” she says, beginning to cry. “You have helped save what my dad has worked so hard for, for decades. Thank you so much.”
“I’d do anything for you, Lizzie, you have to know that. This was something I could help make happen, something that was good for everyone, and for the town too.”
She wipes away her tears, and suddenly remembering her role as a journalist, she asks the Parkers and everyone else to squeeze in for a photo.
“I’m glad one of us is thinking straight,” Peter says to Lizzie, hugging her. “Can you believe this?” he whispers to her.
“No, I can’t. It really is a miracle, dare I say a Christmas miracle?” She laughs and hugs her dad.
“I’m not going to argue with you on that!” he says.
Lizzie also manages to have enough presence of mind to get a few quotes from the Parkers before they take off to their son’s house.
“You’re a lot more with it than me,” her dad says. “Thanks for doing our job.”
“No problem, I don’t want to lose my job just as I’ve gotten it,” she quips. She wanders off, taking a few more photos.
Jack walks over to Lizzie, who’s standing on a spot that looks out to the bay. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey, yourself,” she says, turning toward him. “I am so excited for you, for the town, this is going to be incredible. I can’t believe you got the funding, that you helped us, it’s amazing.” She looks out at the water and screws up her courage. “Look, I want to apologize again, my dad never should have-”
“Stop, it actually may have been to the benefit of the project. When Tom called me, irate of course, I decided to cash in my chips earlier than I had planned to, and it may have been, no I know it was, serendipitous. My friend caught the Parkers as they were leaving New York for here, and they loved the idea. So it was good, it got me to stop agonizing and going over plans again and again, and just say what the heck, and go for it, for all of it. I’m not good at that.”
She nods in agreement. “I’m not good at that either. I overthink. A lot. Like a whole lot, a lot.”
“Well you’ve made a pretty big change, you don’t seem to have over-thought that too much.”
“I didn’t really have a choice. The change came to me,” she says, looking over at her father.
“I think it’s going to be really good. We’re both going to make some big changes here, for the better, I hope,” he says, turning around and surveying the land. “It’s going to be a lot of work, but I think it will be really good.”
“I do too. But you know, the Gazette is going to be holding your feet to the fire, we’re going to be on you to make sure you’re living up to your mission. And now that we won’t have to sell or go under, we’re going to be around for a long time,” she teases.
They start walking back to the cars. “Oh I know, just don’t sic Stan on me, I don’t think I will be able to take the grillings he will most certainly subject me to, especially at the hardware store,” he laughs.
Everyone is starting to disband, it’s beginning to lightly snow, and it’s getting colder.
“Listen,” Jack shakes his head. “Why do people say that? Anyway, what are you doing tonight?”
“Um, it’s Christmas Eve, so Christmas Eve stuff I guess? Why?”
“Well, Tall Tales decided at the last minute to have a Christmas Story Slam, but it’s early, so everyone can get home and wait for Santa,” he smiles. “I think we should go.”
“You do?” She can see her dad getting into the car, but he signals her not to hurry. She looks down at the ground, “Look, about the whole Penelope thing, I was a jerk, and I’m so–”
“There’s no need, I understand why you were upset, and why you didn’t want to talk to me given our history. She and I ended things months ago. She never wanted to live here, so she thought maybe if she showed up and seemed game we could get back together. It was never going to work.” He pauses and looks at her, “So what do you say? Let’s move past that, okay? Bring your parents too, I’ve heard your dad tells a good story.”
“I will ask them, I’m not sure what they have planned, I’ll let you know.”
And then, there is a moment, a perfect moment for a kiss, and they hear, “Jack? Can I ask you a few questions?”
“Stan,” they both say, laughing.
“I will let you know,” Lizzie says walking back to the car.
She gets in and is smiling. “Well this sure isn’t the way I expected the day to go,” she says as they head to the office.
“Those can end up being the very best days,” her dad says looking straight ahead.
“So what do you think about going to a story slam at Tall Tales, later? Sounds like the place to be,” she says.
“I’d love that, let’s run it by your mom. I’ve got a million stories,” Peter says.
“I am sure you do, Dad, and I can’t wait to hear them.”