Chapter 29 Liam #2
But there’s no way that would fly with Cal. Even if I’m constantly on the move to different temporary jobs, he would always want my home base to be the headquarters in Houston.
We’re interrupted by Pops slowly ambling into the room. He leans on his cane and asks, “Becky, what’s a man got to do to get a cup of black coffee around here?”
“Thank you,” I say, feeling validated.
Pops turns to me. “I hear you two are going steady now. Can’t say I didn’t see that coming a mile away when you came by the house.”
I stifle a laugh and smile instead. “Yes, sir. I suppose it was only a matter of time,” I say, winking at Madison.
When I turn back to Pops, I’m met with a threatening glare.
“Just know that we consider Madison one of our own here in Noel. So you’ll have a lot of people to answer to if you don’t treat her right.
A lot of people with tools and trucks and boats and intimate knowledge of every isolated corner of the Arkansas woods. You understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” I answer solemnly. When I look over to Madison, I’m expecting to see some form of sarcastic, amused expression. I’m caught completely off guard by the glisten of tears she’s blinking away.
“Shall we go watch the end of the final movie?” I ask her, and she nods.
When we return to our seats in the back row, I scoot my chair extra close to hers and wrap my arm around her shoulders.
I don’t ask any questions about her emotional response to Pops’ protective speech—I just hold her close while we both pretend to watch the movie.
I try to remain a silent observer during the post-movie brainstorm session.
Clara stands at the front taking notes on a white board, but most of the discussion seems to be centered around minor tweaks to what already exists in the festival.
Eventually, my brainstorm training from Dr. Cox can’t be contained any longer, and I hold up a hand to get Clara’s attention.
“You have an idea, Liam?” Clara asks, and the room turns to me.
I stand up and say, “I know you’ve been doing this festival for a couple of years now and have the basic foundation figured out. But it seems like you’re being too quick to converge on the things that have already worked and not taking enough time to diverge on totally new ideas.”
“What are you talking about?” someone asks from the second row. “What the heck do converge and diverge mean?”
I give a brief explanation of the concept.
“Productive brainstorms include ample time to diverge with every idea you could think of across the board, not eliminating anything right off the bat.” I motion my hands, moving them away from each other in the shape of a “V” to illustrate the statement.
“Only after a broad exploration of possibilities do you converge and narrow in on the best and most achievable suggestions,” I add, pointing my hands inward to bring them back together.
“There are some tourists who will continue coming back every year for the same things out of a sense of tradition,” I say.
“But there are also a lot of people who will check it off their bucket lists and not come back unless there’s a new feature to experience.
You should slowly roll out one or two new features each year to keep people coming back if you really want this to be a long-term source of revenue for the town. ”
Murmurs of discussion echo around the room, and I wonder if I was too direct when I’m still an outsider in this town. I just can’t help but point out the obvious flaw in their planning when I see it.
Madison looks up at me with a combination of pride and desire, which I meet with a half-smile as I sit back down.
“Liam, why don’t you come up here and lead us through one of these diverge brainstorm sessions,” Clara suggests, holding the dry erase marker in the air.
“Oh, no. I wasn’t trying to take over the brainstorm,” I say, holding my hands up. “I was just making a suggestion.”
One of my production line employees stands up in the front row and says, “Yeah, come up here, Mr. Park. You’ve done a great job of turning things around at the factory. We’d be foolish not to put your skills to use on the town festival too.”
Sounds of affirmation build around the room, making my heart beat harder in my chest. Madison kicks off a slow clap that quickly catches on, and she cheers wildly when I finally stand up and make my way to the front of the room.
I might feel embarrassed if I wasn’t so busy trying to fight off the unfamiliar emotional response to their enthusiastic welcome. I’m not sure how to deal with the tangle of feelings rising up inside me, so I push all emotion to the side.
“Is it okay if I erase this?” I ask Clara, gesturing to the white board.
She gives me the go ahead. “All right. Think big. Think outside the box. Think about any Christmas event you’ve ever encountered or any experience you wish you could have.
No idea is too big or too outrageous at this stage.
What could make this the greatest Christmas festival on earth? ”