Chapter 19
nineteen
C ade was going to be so relieved.
Wherever he was.
“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” Rosalyn hung up with the manager of Southern Jewelry Co. and grinned at Zoey, who sat in a lawn chair behind her Bayou Beignets table. The smell of powdered sugar and cinnamon hung heavy in the air under the tent. “Southern is in for bathroom traffic.”
Then Rosalyn did a double take. “Wow, did you sell all those while I was on the phone?” Zoey’s sample platter of treats was half-empty, and there were significantly fewer boxes than there’d been half an hour ago. To that point, the festival grounds already bustled with activity and they’d only been open a short time.
Zoey marked her hand-drawn spreadsheet, bangs draping in front of her eyes. “Yep. Business is booming.”
“How many volunteers now, counting Southern?” Rosalyn sank into the lawn chair next to her.
“Let’s see…” Zoey counted down the list with her finger. “Bayou Beignets, Southern Jewelry, Chug a Mug, Magnolia Blossom, and Magnolia Grace Church. That’s five establishments in walking distance willing to let attendees use their restrooms.”
“Make that six!” Sadie waved from her booth down the row. “My part-time girl is working at Second Story today and has been instructed to let anyone in who needs the bathroom.”
“Great! Thanks Sadie.” Rosalyn turned to Zoey. “I almost had the bank manager convinced too, but they only have a single stall for public use, and he sounded like he regretted having even that policy in place.”
“That’s fair. And I’m sure Lettie would have let us, but her studio is farther away.” Zoey tapped her pencil against the list.
“I’ll put the studio on an overflow list—in case Cade can’t get the porta-potties here tonight.” Rosalyn drew a star next to the studio. “We’ll need all toilets on deck.” It felt good to help. Kept her mind off her own upcoming performance. She checked her phone, but Cade hadn’t read her text asking where he’d gone.
“Oh, Pastor Dubois called me back and volunteered his golf cart for anyone who doesn’t want to walk all the way to Village Lane for restrooms.”
“Of course he did.” Zoey laughed as she set her clipboard on the table. “I love that guy.”
“He’s very generous.”
“You should check out a church service with us.” Zoey’s smile faded. “Wait. I keep forgetting you won’t be here much longer.”
“I know.” Every day put her one closer to being back in under Blaine’s watchful eye. Had he gotten wind of the paperwork Cade filed on her behalf? Would he be notified? Cade hadn’t updated her on anything with her accounts, so she assumed everything was on the up and up.
Unless he hadn’t had time to investigate yet.
She leaned forward in her chair. “I could probably come to church this Sunday before I leave town.” It’d be a good opportunity to see everyone before she left Monday.
Including Cade.
“You’re such a natural part of Magnolia Bay…I’m sorry we didn’t know each other back in school.” Zoey reached for one of the few sample beignets left on the plate. “You could have taught me aerial.”
“I still can, you know. Maybe we can squeeze in that girl’s night before I leave.”
“Your solution to the toilet problem was a great idea, by the way. I know Cade will be grateful.” Zoey gestured to her sugary wares. “I’d offer you a complimentary beignet, but I have a guess what your answer would be.”
“That answer might change after my performances are over this week, so ask me again.” Rosalyn shielded her eyes with one hand and scanned the festival grounds. Cade still hadn’t answered her text, which was odd. She had yet to talk to him today at all. After she’d parked her car an hour ago and hurried over to meet Zoey, he’d vanished, presumably, according to Zoey, to try to make arrangements with another porta-potty company ASAP.
She wanted to tell him he could relax, could focus on other fires for a bit that were sure to ignite. Wanted to make sure he wasn’t beating himself up and tell him she’d helped find a temporary solution. That everything would be okay.
But where was he?
* * *
Enough was enough.
Cade flexed his fingers at his sides as he paced his father’s office, waiting on his return. Dad wasn’t usually out of office this time of the afternoon, and Cade desperately needed to get back to the festival.
But this conversation was long overdue.
The air conditioner hummed overhead, and he couldn’t help but notice how the fern in Dad’s window thrived. Figured.
He had to tell his father the truth—it was a horrible time to run for mayor, even if he could wait several more weeks to start the actual campaign. A few weeks weren’t going to solve Cade’s focus issues, his anxiety struggles, or how thin he was spread.
Bilbo Baggins had nailed it— butter scraped over too much bread .
Cade would never be able to fully focus on the festival if he didn’t get this off his chest and out of his head. It had to be said before Dad became even more convinced of his idea of passing the torch. The porta-potty fiasco had been the last straw.
He couldn’t do it all.
Cade paused in front of the big window overlooking the park. The afternoon sun beamed through the trees, sending golden stripes of light across people enjoying the day. Hopefully, some of them would head to the festival that evening. Dog-walkers strolled the winding concrete path, while children played in the grass. A beach ball soared through the air, and a kid eagerly chased it down before it rolled into the pond.
Cade loved this place. And he was doing it a disservice because he wasn’t fully invested in his goals. Maybe Dad could wait one more term before retiring. Or bail mid-term and give Cade a year or so to prepare between now and then. Get counseling for the anxiety flare-ups.
And get the town in the black before filling his proverbial plate with even more food.
Speaking of. He pulled a pack of Skittles from his pocket and ripped open the bag before checking his phone. He’d silenced it on the way over because the less he knew about what was happening at Magnolia Days, the better.
Several texts had come in, including a few from Rosalyn. He opened the thread.
“Cade! Excellent timing.” Dad pushed into his office, shutting the door with a click.
Cade pocketed his cell. He’d have to read them later.
His father checked his Cartier watch, then settled in his chair and picked up the TV remote. He’d gotten a haircut, and his goatee was trimmed short. “I have something I want to show you.”
Cade mumbled around his mouthful of candy. “Could we talk first?” He swallowed.
“If this is about the porta-potty issue, don’t worry. I handled it.” Dad waved his hand through the air and then aimed the remote at the television.
Great. Cade shoved the package back in his pocket. Word was already spreading of his incapability. “How’d you hear?”
“Everyone was talking about it at Chug a Mug when I stopped for coffee.”
Perfect.
“I never would’ve used that particular company in the first place.” Dad clicked on the TV and flipped channels. “Honestly, the mistake is on them.”
Except Dad knew not to use them, further proving Cade’s point—his father’s shoes didn’t fit him.
“Regardless, they should be delivering the pods shortly.” Dad scrolled the channel list, his tone unconcerned.
Cade took a breath. That was one load off, though the fact his dad had to bail him out left a different one in its place. He sank onto the chair opposite the desk. “That’s not why I’m here.”
Dad pointed to the TV, which aired a local news report. “Let’s talk in a minute. I don’t want to miss this.”
Cade leaned against the seat as the news reporter droned about the weather. He wanted to get the conversation over with, but at least this gave him a moment to figure out exactly what he wanted to say.
Maybe he should ease into it. Dad, I’ve been thinking…there’s been a lot going on lately, and I feel like taking on your job would be a bit much right now…
Or maybe the blunt approach. Dad, I’m not qualified to be mayor.
Or maybe he needed to think about something else and let the conversation happen organically. He pulled his phone free from his pocket and went back to Rosalyn’s string of texts.
Rosalyn: Good news!
Rosalyn: You’re supposed to ask what
Rosalyn: Whenever you get this, call me. I think Toiletgate has been solved.
Cade stared at the words, rocking his chair back. His chest flushed as conflicting emotions roiled. Rosalyn had somehow fixed his problem too? Was everyone better at being in charge than he was?
“…an unexpected announcement from Mayor Landry.” A local reporter’s voice on the TV pitched with excitement. “Thanks for joining us. I’ll let you tell the news yourself, Mayor.”
Cade stilled his chair, balancing it on two legs.
Dad’s face filled the TV screen. He wore the same shirt he had on now—a pinstriped button-down under a navy blazer. “Thank you, Laura. It’s an exciting time here in Magnolia Bay.”
Oh no. Had he just filmed this? Cade rocked again. “Dad. We really need to?—”
“Shh.”
“I know change can be intimidating.” TV Dad lifted his chin toward the camera.
The brunette reporter nodded, eyes laser focused as if his father was a superstar. In a lot of ways, he was—all part of the problem.
A grin broke across Dad’s salt-and-pepper goatee on the screen. “But I’m very pleased to announce that my son, Cade Landry, will be running for mayor this upcoming election.”
Cade’s chair crashed backward onto the floor. He lay unmoving, staring up at the ceiling tiles. His head spun. This wasn’t happening.
“This is obviously bittersweet for me and the end of an era.” From the television, Dad’s voice filled the air. “But it’s also the beginning of a new one for Magnolia Bay.”
Cade’s heart thundered in his ears and drowned out the reporter’s perky response. He closed his eyes. He was too late. The entire town knew. He couldn’t back out now.
The TV muted.
Cade opened his eyes.
His father peered down at him. “Did you hear that? You’re official!”
Officially in trouble, yes. Cade had the sudden urge to laugh. He snorted. Then he chuckled.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Cade coughed as he stood. “Skittle went down the wrong pipe.” He righted his chair, hysteria past. Nothing about this was funny. Were the walls closing in? He collapsed in the seat, keeping both feet planted on the carpet. What was he going to do?
“Don’t worry—this doesn’t change anything regarding our campaign timeline.” Dad returned to his own chair and clicked off the TV. “You can get past Magnolia Days before you switch gears.”
Switch gears? Cade wanted to slam on the brakes. He pressed his fingers into his temples. “That’s…good. But why the announcement? Why today?”
“I thought it best for the town to have a heads-up. And I’ve already booked your campaign party at Magnolia Blossom for two weeks from Saturday, after the festival.” Dad beamed. “We’ll get everyone celebrating early, and then your race will be a shoo-in.”
Cade stared straight ahead. A party. His head throbbed faster.
“I didn’t mean to spring this on you, but I knew you’d be swamped today and the news spot came available last minute. Obviously, I had to jump on it.” Dad picked up his designer gold pen, a gift from the town during his fourth term as mayor. “So, what did you want to talk about earlier?”
“Um.” Cade cracked his neck to one side. This was it—his last window to say what he came to say. He opened his mouth, shut it. The past ricocheted around his head. You really owe your dad after this one, sport.
“Let me guess.” Dad raised his eyebrows. “Is it about Rosalyn Dupree?”
His face must have answered for him.
Dad pointed. “I’m not blind, son. You like her.”
He swallowed. “Yeah, I do.” It felt good to admit the truth. “But she’s not available right now, nor is she planning to stay in Magnolia Bay, so…”
“Available?” Dad frowned. “She seeing someone else?”
“Sort of.” He couldn’t tell her secret. “It’s complicated.” Not to mention, despite her protests, he wasn’t fully convinced she didn’t still harbor some lingering feelings toward Blaine. At some point, she’d trusted him enough to give him access to her finances, even go so far as to marry the guy to escape a hospital.
And there had been that kiss he’d witnessed in Dallas…
Maybe that was the part he had trouble getting past. Afraid to believe there wasn’t another secret still hanging out there she didn’t want to share.
Dad cleared his throat. “If she chooses to go elsewhere, that’s her loss. You remember that.” His smile reappeared. “She could have been with the future mayor of Magnolia Bay.”
So much wrong with that statement he didn’t know where to start. “Uh, thanks, Dad. But?—”
“I’m proud of you, by the way.” Dad’s eager smile sealed Cade’s fate. “Not sure if I mentioned that part.” He rubbed his goatee. “I haven’t told you the whole story, I suppose.”
There was more? Cade bounced one leg.
“Part of why I’m retiring early is doctor’s orders.” Dad tapped his pen against his open palm.
Cade’s leg stilled. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing serious.” Dad released the pen. “Apparently my blood pressure is high. And I need to eat more salads.” He gestured to the paperwork on his desk. “Doc thinks some changes would be good, prevention-wise. Meaning less stress. Of course, once your mother heard that, the gavel slammed.”
He winked, but for the first time, Cade noticed the thin lines etched across his face. The grooves on his forehead. The sunspots on his receding hairline.
His dad was getting older.
Cade shifted, hooking one ankle over the other. He widened his eyes, forcing the walls back into their place in the room. “It’s okay, Dad.” He drew a deep breath and released it with a smile. “I’ve got this.”
Somehow, he’d find a way to make that statement true.