6. Ami
Chapter six
Ami
Dragging myself to Aunt Maggie's campaign party feels like wading through molasses.
The sun is setting, casting a warm golden glow over the backyard, but my mood matches the looming clouds on the horizon.
The scene is picturesque, with twinkling fairy lights draped over the trees and tables adorned with homemade treats, but I feel like an imposter amidst the laughter and camaraderie of the townsfolk.
I spot Aunt Maggie near the snack table, surrounded by a group of animated supporters. Mustering a smile, I weave through the crowd and make my way over to her.
"Aunt Maggie," I call out, forcing cheerfulness into my voice. "The place looks amazing."
Her eyes light up when she sees me. "Ami, sweetheart! I’m so glad you made it," she pulls me into a warm hug, her familiar scent of lavender and old books comforting.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," I say, pulling back to give her a reassuring smile. "How are you holding up?"
"Oh, you know how these things go," she replies with a chuckle. "Lots of handshaking and trying to remember everyone's names. But I’m managing."
Before I can respond, a few more people join us, forming a small huddle.
They greet Aunt Maggie warmly, then turn their attention to me.
"And who do we have here?" asks a man with graying hair and a friendly smile.
"This is my niece, Amelia," Aunt Maggie introduces.
"She's come to help with the campaign." "It's Ami," I correct gently, smiling at the group.
"Ah, Ami," says a woman in a floral dress. "We’ve heard so much about you. Maggie talks about you all the time." I blush slightly, not quite used to being the center of attention. "All good things, I hope."
"Only the best," Aunt Maggie assures me, patting my arm.
The group begins to reminisce about past elections, throwing around names and events that mean nothing to me. I nod along, trying to keep up, but the references fly over my head like seagulls on the beach.
"Remember the '98 election?" the man with the gray hair says, chuckling. "What a fiasco that was." "Oh, don’t remind me," the woman in the floral dress groans. "I thought we’d never hear the end of it. The recounts, the accusations... it was a nightmare."
"And then there was the year we had the candidate who proposed turning the old lighthouse into a theme park," another man adds with a laugh.
"People still joke about that," Aunt Maggie says, shaking her head. "Seabrook: Home of the Lighthouse Roller Coaster."
I smile politely, feeling more out of place with each passing second.
These people share a history I am not a part of, and it’s clear how deeply intertwined their lives are with the town’s past. I catch Aunt Maggie’s eye, and she must see the discomfort there because she gently steers the conversation back to more neutral territory.
"Ami's been doing some wonderful research for my campaign," she says, beaming with pride. "She's been an incredible help."
"Oh, really?" the woman in the floral dress says, turning to me. "What kind of research?"
"Well, I’ve been looking into some of the town’s history and trying to find unique angles for Aunt Maggie’s campaign," I explain, grateful for the change in topic.
"That’s wonderful," another person chimes in.
"We need fresh perspectives to keep things interesting.
" I nod, feeling a bit more at ease. "I’m just glad I can contribute.
Aunt Maggie means a lot to me, and I want to support her however I can. "
"She’s lucky to have you," Mr. Gray Hair says kindly. "Family support is so important in these things."
The night drags on, and despite my efforts to fit in, I still feel out of place.
I take a break from mingling and find a quiet corner near the edge of the yard.
I pull out my phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media, trying to distract myself.
Aunt Maggie spots me and makes her way over, her expression a mix of concern and understanding.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed?" she asks gently. I sigh, shoving my phone back into my pocket. "Yeah, a little. It’s just... this isn’t really my scene, you know?
Everyone here knows each other so well, and I feel like I am intruding. "
Aunt Maggie nods, her eyes softening. "I understand. It can be tough to feel like you belong in a place where everyone has so much shared history. But give it time, Ami. You’ll find your footing."
"I hope so," I say, glancing around at the crowd. "I just... I don’t want to let you down."
"You could never let me down," Aunt Maggie says firmly. "Just be yourself. That’s more than enough."
Before I can respond, a group of people approaches, and Aunt Maggie is pulled back into the fray.
I take a deep breath and decide to give the mingling another shot.
Maybe if I keep trying, I’ll eventually find my place.
I make my way to the refreshment table, grabbing a cup of punch.
As I sip it, a woman in her early fifties strikes up a conversation with me.
"Hi there, I’m Carol," she says, offering her hand. "I don’t think we’ve met."
"Ami," I reply, shaking her hand. "I am Maggie’s niece."
"Oh yes, Maggie’s told us so much about you," Carol says warmly. "How are you finding Seabrook?"
"It’s... different," I admit. "I’ve been living in the city and haven’t visited for a while, so it’s a bit of an adjustment."
"I can imagine," Carol says with a sympathetic smile. "But there’s a lot to love about this place. The sense of community, the slower pace... it grows on you."
"I’m starting to see that," I say, glancing around at the lively party. "Everyone seems really close."
Carol nods. "We are. And we’re always happy to welcome new people. Just give it some time."
"Thanks, I appreciate that." I’m feeling a bit more hopeful I can fit in.
But once again, the conversation shifts to something I have no say in, so I excuse myself.
It's like I am stuck in a rerun of the same old conversation, with me as the silent extra.
Seriously, can I get a script change or something?
I find another quiet corner and take a deep breath.
It's like every time I start to feel comfortable, I’m reminded of just how much I don't belong here.
Needing some space, I decide to take a walk in the backyard.
The cool evening air helps clear my mind, and I wander past the twinkling lights and into the more secluded areas.
I follow a path lined with overgrown bushes and blooming flowers until I reach a quiet spot near the old oak tree at the edge of the property.
As I stand there, breathing in the scent of fresh earth and flowers, I hear voices nearby. Curious, I move closer and realize one of the voices belongs to Ethan. I duck behind a large hydrangea bush and listen in, feeling a bit guilty but unable to stop myself.
"Look, Todd," Ethan says, his tone earnest. "I know Maggie's done a lot for this town, and I respect her.
But Seabrook is changing, and we need to adapt.
I want to modernize things while still preserving the charm that makes this place special.
" Todd's voice, steady and encouraging, responds, "You've got the right ideas, Ethan.
People are just scared of change. But if you can show them that it's possible to have both—progress and tradition—they'll come around. "
Well, well, well, Mr. Campbell, color me intrigued.
Ethan's got this fire in his belly, this unwavering belief in his mission.
It's a side of him I haven't seen before, and I am low-key hooked.
I hover behind the bush, soaking in every word like a fly on the wall.
This could be a game-changer for Seabrook.
Ethan's got big ideas, and if anyone can pull ‘em off, it's him.
Ethan sighs, and I can almost see him running a hand through his hair in that frustrated way he has. "It’s just... it’s complicated. Maggie’s been like family to me. I don’t want to hurt her, but I believe in what I am proposing. The town needs new energy, new direction."
I can't help but feel a twinge of empathy for Ethan. Who knew the guy had such a soft side? Despite our clashes, it's obvious he's wrestling with his choices. I’ve got to hand it to him, though; he's sticking to his guns, even if it means butting heads with Aunt Maggie. Talk about commitment.
"Listen," Todd says, his tone softer now.
"Whatever you decide, you've got my support and I’m sure that of all the rest of the fire crew.
But you need to be sure, Ethan. People are counting on you.
" "I know," Ethan replies, sounding resigned.
"I just need to figure out how to do this without alienating everyone I care about. "
I step back, not wanting to overhear more than I should.
As I turn to leave, I accidentally snap a twig underfoot.
The sound echoes loudly in the quiet night, and I freeze, hoping they didn’t hear it.
"Ami?" Ethan’s voice calls out, and I wince so much for stealth. I don’t know how he figured it was me, but maybe it’s a sixth sense.
Slowly, I step out from behind the bush, trying to look nonchalant.
"Hey, Ethan." He looks surprised to see me, but hey, at least he's not shooting daggers, which is a win in my book.
"Were you... listening?" Smooth, Ami. Real smooth.
"Not exactly on purpose," I reply with a shrug.
"Just taking a stroll, you know? Happened to overhear your pow-wow.
" Todd gives me this nod like, 'I see you, girl,' before dipping out, leaving me alone with Ethan.
"So," Ethan starts, crossing his arms and giving me this curious look.
"What did you hear?" Oh, just your existential crisis.
It's no big deal. "Enough to know you’re in a bind," I say, feeling the awkwardness creeping in.
"But hey, I get it. You’re trying to do the whole 'save the town' thing, just like Aunt Maggie. "
He lets out this heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like he's working out a kink.
"Yeah, it’s a pickle. I respect Aunt Maggie, but I've got my own vision for Seabrook.
" I nod, totally getting his struggle. "Juggling beliefs and relationships is no cakewalk. But I think people will see you're the real deal, even if they're not sold on your plan."
"Thanks, Ami," he says, his face softening a bit. "Means a lot, coming from you."
Cue the mutual respect moment.
We stand there for a beat, the tension dialing down a notch. Despite our history and our current political beef, there's this unspoken understanding between us. "You know," I pipe up, breaking the silence, "maybe we should chat about this some more. Somewhere less... party-ish."
Ethan raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ami Brooks, making moves? I’m flattered."
I roll my eyes because … seriously? "In your dreams, Campbell. I meant we could meet up at Aunt Maggie's bookstore. We can brainstorm without all this background noise, and maybe find some helpful information about the town in the stacks."
He chuckles, his tone light. "Alright, the bookstore it is. Tomorrow after closing time?"
"Yeah, sounds good," I reply, a mix of relief and excitement swirling inside me.
"Cool, see you then," he says, flashing a genuine smile on me.
As I turn to go, I catch Ethan's lingering gaze. There's a glint in his eyes, a mix of understanding and something else I can't quite put my finger on. "
Well," I quip, breaking the moment. "I better bounce before Aunt Maggie sends out a search party." Ethan's chuckle is warm and familiar.
"Yeah, can't have that. Thanks for lending an ear, Ami. Seriously." I shoot him a casual grin. "No prob, anytime."
With a final nod, I pivot and saunter back toward the bustling party scene on the other side of my yard, where laughter and music still mingle in the air.
Despite the lingering doubts and uncertainties, a spark of hope ignites within me.
Maybe, just maybe, Seabrook isn't as intimidating as it appears.
And who knows, in these random moments of connection, I might just find my groove in this quirky little beach town.