Chapter 5
The after-church crowd that usually streamed into the Forgotten Hug trickled slowly today, probably because of the glorious weather. Summer took a long time to get started in the Pacific Northwest, but once the sun burned away the gloom, people relaxed outdoors instead of antiquing.
Dawn looked longingly out the window of her store and wished she could be outside too. Her stargazer lilies were beginning to bloom, and her garden smelled like heaven. She’d brought a bouquet to her shop and arranged it in a glass milk bottle along with some of her David Austen roses. At least she could bring the outdoors inside with her while she worked.
While she waited for customers, Dawn followed up with her Etsy shop orders. Sometimes, things that wouldn’t sell in person sold online in a flash. It was all about finding the right buyer. She packaged some vintage copies of Life Magazine and started preparing them for mailing. Anything with Jackie Kennedy on the cover sold fast.
A couple of window shoppers wandered in as she sealed the envelopes, but they didn’t stay long. Dawn posted a picture on the Forgotten Hug’s Instagram account and responded to people’s comments on previous posts. Then she clicked over to Facebook, mainly to see how well her petition was doing.
That morning, she’d been stunned to see that almost seven hundred people had signed already. Now, she was flabbergasted because the number had climbed to 1,112. That only counted the number of people who’d signed the petition. The Facebook analytics told her over six thousand people had viewed her post and that it had been shared almost three hundred times. That was just her own personal post sharing the petition. She didn’t know how many people on Harper Landing Moms had seen it by now. Dawn grinned and felt proud of herself. She couldn’t wait to show Sierra when Mark dropped her off this afternoon.
The front door of the shop opened. Dawn closed her laptop and stuffed it in the locked drawer underneath the counter. Ferry traffic began to seep in. Sunday travelers were sometimes grimy looking, like the family browsing the back shelf. All four of them wore hiking boots and a thin layer of dirt. The father had white sunscreen smeared into his stubble. They had probably just returned from a camping trip in the Olympic Mountains, on the other side of Puget Sound.
Dawn had camped in Olympic National Park a few times but hated it because the campgrounds didn’t have showers. Back when she was married, she’d tried talking Mark into buying an RV, but he was a purist. If he wasn’t being eaten alive by mosquitos and huddling in a tent for warmth, it wasn’t a true adventure for him. Dawn’s idea of camping involved hanging out in front of a trailer, drinking pop and playing cards. Every summer in high school, her dad would take Dawn and her sister, Wendy, to Lake Wenatchee for two weeks. They’d rent a boat and water ski, go horseback riding, visit the water park at Lake Chelan, and soak up as much sun as possible. Jim spent more time fixing broken things on their camping trailer than any of them would have liked, but it was fun. A stab of hurt pierced Dawn’s heart as she thought about her father.
She watched the campers wander around her store. The dad picked up the littlest kid to contain the child’s energy as they walked past the china. Dawn remembered when Jim used to pick her up in his arms like that. He always smelled like Dial soap and Pert Plus. She reached for a tissue and blew her nose, telling herself it was allergies and not tears threatening to fall. What she wouldn’t give to have more time with her dad.
“Excuse me.” The gruff voice came from the front of the store.
Dawn had been so focused on the camping family and her own memories that she hadn’t heard the new customer come in. When she turned and looked at him, her eyes widened in surprise when she recognized Captain Berg from last night at the Nuthatch and the press conference at the beach. A jolt of electricity coursed through her when she saw his blue eyes. They were lighter than hers but more piercing. He stood with ramrod-straight posture and towered so tall that Dawn had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. He had a rugged look about him, as though he’d spent time in the sun instead of under fluorescent lights in an office.
“Can I help you?” she asked. She knew he was on the opposing side of the beach campaign, but she’d also seen him save Frank’s life last night. Well, maybe that was being overly dramatic, but he’d definitely come to the rescue. Her right hand went to her hip, and she pulled her shoulders back, like her sister had taught her to do back in middle school.
“Are you Dawn Maddox?”
“Who wants to know?” she asked with a smile. When she interacted one-on-one with strangers, Dawn did fine. The large crowds were what made her nervous.
The man’s face softened. “Warren Berg,” he said as he held out his hand, “from Harper Landing Fire.”
Dawn shook his hand with a firm grip. “Dawn Maddox, nice to meet you. Is there a problem with my fire safety? I’m meticulous about following the fire codes.” She pointed at the flashing exit sign above the back door. “All my exits are labeled. I don’t stock any merchandise next to the furnace, and there’s a smoke detector, carbon monoxide monitor, and fire extinguisher in every room.”
Warren surveyed the space before his eyes zeroed in on hers with a laser precision that made Dawn’s knees turn to jelly. “I’m here because of you.” He spoke as if she was in trouble.
That zing of attraction Dawn felt started to fade. She didn’t like the man’s tone. “Excuse me?” she asked coolly. She removed her hand from her hip.
“I want you to take down that petition you created about the safety bridge because it includes misleading information.”
“Such as?”
Warren’s ears turned red. “Okay, not misleading information so much as it directs people away from the point at hand. We need that bridge to save lives.”
“And destroying a natural resource is the only way to do it?” Dawn folded her arms across her chest.
“The city council’s task force has studied the matter, and yes, Harper Landing Beach is the best place for the bridge.”
“Says who? That property developer they brought in, the one with the fake tan and a Rolex?” Dawn wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think so.” From the corner of her eye, she saw the camping mom approach, holding a set of American Girl books that were so old they had the Kirsten doll on the cover. “Excuse me,” Dawn said. “I have a customer.”
Warren opened his mouth to say something but must have thought better of it because he closed it again and stepped back.
Putting on a warm smile, Dawn turned to the woman. “Welcome to the Forgotten Hug.”
“Thanks.” The woman set the stack of books beside the register. “I’ve never been here before, but I’ll definitely have to come back the next time we visit.”
Dawn started ringing up the books. “Where’s home?”
“Pasco.” The woman took out her credit card.
“Small world.” Dawn scanned the last book. “I’m from the Tri-Cities too. Kennewick, to be exact. My sister still lives there.” She looked at the register screen. “That’ll be eighteen ninety-five.”
“Not a bad price for collectibles like these.” The woman inserted her card into the reader. “I had a Kirsten doll as a child, but my brother cut off her hair.”
Dawn gasped. “He didn’t!”
The woman sighed. “He did. Right down to the scalp. I wanted to send it to the doll hospital, but my mom said that would be too much money.”
Dawn felt better now that she was in her element, chatting with customers about things that interested her. She noticed that Warren still stood nearby, lurking in front of a display of copper pots and cooking utensils, but there was nothing she could do about that. Maybe if she dragged out the conversation about doll memorabilia long enough, he’d give up and go away.
“Was it a German-made Kirsten or one from Mattel?” Dawn asked.
“German, I think.” The woman shook her head. “If I still had it, I could have given it to my daughter.” She looked over at her husband and kids, who were smelling every scent in the goat-milk soap display. “Are you ready, guys? We have a long road ahead.”
“Can we get ice cream first?” the little girl asked.
“Sure.” The mom looked at Dawn. “Where’s the closest ice cream shop?”
“Sweet Bliss on Main Street,” said Dawn. “It’s technically frozen yogurt, but your kids will love it.”
As she watched the family walk away, she steeled herself for another confrontation with Warren. Sure enough, he strode over to the counter before the family had even left the store.
“People could die,” he said with a stern glare. “You do realize that the train tracks cut off access to the ferry dock and the marina, right?”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m child.”
“I’m not talking to you like you’re a child.”
“Yes, you are.” Dawn clenched her fists. “Why else would you ask me such a dumb question? Of course I know where the train tracks are. I’ve lived here for twenty years.” She pointed to her face. “And I have eyes.”
Warren rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to talk down to you.” He lowered his hand, stuffed it in his pocket, then brought it out again. “I was simply illustrating the logistics of a dangerous situation. All it would take would be one train crash, and we wouldn’t be able to access hundreds, perhaps a thousand people.”
“Because you can’t walk across train tracks?”
“Walk across train tracks? What if a fire started? You want me to carry the fire engine on my back for a stroll across Main Street?”
“No,” said Dawn, trying not to be flustered. Arguments like this made her feel like she was ten or eleven, before her parents split up. It was like she had been with Wendy in their shared bedroom, cranking up their CD player so they wouldn’t hear Jim and Beth argue. But she wasn’t that little girl anymore. She was thirty-five years old, and her failed marriage to Mark had taught her that adults could disagree without raising their voices. What trick had the marriage counselor taught them? Seek the win-win.
“Look,” Dawn said. “You want to make sure that firefighters can reach people on the other side of the train tracks. I want to protect Harper Landing Beach for future generations. Those goals don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”
“I’m listening.” Warren’s blue eyes bored into her.
Dawn brainstormed off the top of her head, her natural creativeness coming to her rescue. “There could be a fire station built next to the yacht club. Or there could be a fireboat or something out on the water, ready for action. Or maybe there’s another location in Harper Landing that would work for a bridge. Maybe the city would need to buy a couple of mansions to tear down in Burke Woods so they could put in a bridge there.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what the solution is, but it’s not destroying the beach.”
“All of those ideas were already explored by the city’s safety committee, and they were all rejected for a variety of reasons.”
“Well, maybe that’s because outside interests were involved, like that property developer.”
The door of her shop opened, and Dawn looked to see who had entered. Two women she recognized from the Cascade Athletic Club but had never officially met strode in. One woman was heavier set with shoulder-length brown hair. The other had a blond pixie cut and defined arm muscles. Two little boys and a girl about Sierra’s age walked in behind them. It took Dawn a moment to realize that the girl was Warren’s daughter. What was her name again? Dawn tried to remember what Sierra had told her.
“Mikaela!” Warren said in a friendly voice. He opened his arms wide for a hug.
Mikaela pulled down her Mariners cap. “Hey,” she said, not moving forward.
Whoa, thought Dawn. Someone knows how to throw shade.
Warren dropped his arms to his sides for a second but then held them up again as the little boys ran at him. He scooped them both up in a bear hug.
“I’ve always wanted to come in this store,” said the dark-haired woman. She walked directly to the dishtowel display and squealed. “Look, Alison. It’s the Harper Landing ferry.”
“Cool.” Alison gave Mikaela a gentle nudge forward. “Go give your dad a hug. He’s had a long shift at work.”
Dawn didn’t mean to, but as soon as Alison said that, she felt sorry for Warren. She knew he had done difficult things at work because she’d been there last night when he came to Frank’s aid.
The dark-haired woman brought two dishtowels up to the register. “Can you hold these for me while I look around?”
“Sure.” Dawn folded the towels and set them aside.
“I’m Laurie, by the way.” The woman smiled. “I’ve seen you around the gym before, and I know you from Harper Landing Moms.”
“Nice to meet you.” Dawn pulled a curly lock of hair behind her ear.
“You probably don’t know me, though,” said Laurie, “because I don’t have a profile picture.”
“And I’m not on Facebook,” said the other woman. “Too much drama.”
“That’s my wife, Alison,” said Laurie. “And our boys, Ash and Trent.”
Dawn waved hello to all of them.
“It would appear you’ve already met Warren.” Alison had moved to stand behind the solemn-faced Mikaela.
“He’s wonderful with our boys,” said Laurie.
“Great,” said Dawn, not understanding how any of this applied to her.
“Kind, dependable, trustworthy,” Laurie continued. “He’s definitely a good father.”
“Okay, Laurie.” Warren put the boys back down on the floor. “You’re laying it on a little thick there.”
Laurie looked over her shoulder at him. “But it’s the truth.” She turned back to Dawn. “That’s why I didn’t sign the petition you posted on Harper Landing Moms. I knew that if Warren supported the bridge, then he had good reason to.”
Dawn smiled through gritted teeth. “Well, one thousand one hundred twelve people disagree with you,” she said. “Having the city study the issue further is a good idea.”
“One thousand three hundred two,” said Mikaela. She smirked at her father.
“I said no devices this weekend, young lady.” Warren clenched his jaw. “How’d you even get one? They’re all locked up.”
“She didn’t get one,” said Alison. “But Laurie and I were talking about the petition on the drive over here.”
One thousand three hundred two. Dawn repeated the number in her head in disbelief. She’d gathered over one thousand signatures, and it had been less than twenty-four hours. At this rate, the city council would have to listen to her concerns. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she took it out to see who had messaged her.
We’ll be there soon , said the text from Mark. Getting snacks at the Smoothie Hut. Want one?
Yes, please, Dawn answered. Chocolate PB.
“Not to change the subject,” said Laurie, “but are those dishes real Fiesta Ware, or are they knockoffs?” She pointed at a shelf above Dawn’s head.
“They’re authentic. I have a larger display over in the china section.”
“Ooh!” Laurie scooted away. “I need some more yellows.”
“Need is a relative term,” Alison called after her. She sighed and looked at Warren. “It looks like we’ll be here awhile.”
“Thanks for watching Mikaela and keeping her late for my overtime.” Warren shot out his arm and grabbed one of the boys by the back of the shirt seconds before the kid climbed up a blanket ladder leaning against the wall. “Oh, no you don’t, Ash. That ladder’s not for climbing.”
“Trent, wait!” Alison darted off after the other boy, who headed into the musical instruments collection.
“I think your petition is a great idea,” Mikaela said loudly. She looked at Dawn and smiled for the first time since she’d entered the store. “As soon as I get my iPad back, I’m going to sign it.”
“Thanks, sweetie, but I think Hear Our Voice requires people to be eighteen before they can sign.” Dawn didn’t know what was going on in that three-ring circus of a family, but she liked Mikaela’s spunk. “My daughter, Sierra, said she knows you from school.”
Mikaela pushed up her hat and stepped closer to the counter. She had the same blue eyes as her father. “I know Sierra. She invited me to her birthday party at the trampoline place, but my dad said I couldn’t go.”
Dawn couldn’t remember Mikaela’s name from the invite list, but that was because Sierra had invited the whole class. “I’m sure he had his reasons,” she said. “I’m sorry you missed it, though, because the party was a lot of fun.”
“That place is a death trap.” Warren put Ash on his shoulders. “I can’t tell you how many calls we’ve gotten for kids who broke bones from landing too hard or accidentally stepping between the springs.”
Dawn bristled at Warren’s unspoken accusation that she’d willingly exposed Sierra to danger. “Exercise comes with risks,” she said. “You can’t wrap kids in a bubble.” She resented Warren judging her. “I mean, you could walk across the street and get hit by a car, but that doesn’t mean people should stay inside their houses all the time.”
“Now who’s being patronizing?” Warren raised his eyebrows. “You think I don’t know what happens in pedestrian versus vehicle accidents? Because let me tell you, it’s no fun responding to a scene where?—”
“Okay,” said Alison, rushing back to the front of the store, dragging Trent behind her. “Let’s move on, because this road’s going nowhere.” She stopped right in front of the counter and jerked her thumb back at Warren. “He’s a great fire captain and father.”
Mikaela harrumphed, and all the adults pretended not to notice.
“As I was saying,” said Alison, “Warren’s a good guy, and he served on the city’s planning committee for improving marina safety. Meeting you like this in the middle of your store was not my idea, but I was outvoted. Would you be willing to discuss the issue further at a neutral location?”
“I don’t know,” Dawn said. “I’m not sure there’s anything left to discuss because I’m not going to take down that petition until the city agrees to reconsider.”
“We’re not asking you to take down the petition,” said Alison.
“I am,” Warren said. “That’s exactly what I think she should do.”
Alison ignored him. “Come to our house for dinner tomorrow night,” she said. “I mean mine and Laurie’s house. We don’t all live together. Bring your daughter. What’s her name? Trent was playing an accordion, and I couldn’t quite hear.”
“Sierra,” said Mikaela. “Her name’s Sierra. But you can’t just invite her over, Alison. That’s so embarrassing. Sixth graders don’t do playdates.”
“It’s not a playdate, hon.” Alison put her hand on Mikaela’s back. “It’s adults talking and kids hanging out in the backyard.”
Mikaela took off her hat. “You have a sandbox in your backyard. Sierra’s too old to play in sandboxes.”
“ You play in the sandbox,” said Alison.
Mikaela’s cheeks turned pink. “Don’t embarrass me!”
Alison bit her bottom lip for a second. “Sorry. How about you make slime? I have a gallon of glue ready to go.”
Mikaela took a deep breath as she considered the idea, then let it out slowly. She looked at Dawn as if seeking her approval.
“Sierra loves making slime,” said Dawn.
She wasn’t sure why she was agreeing to any of this. It was true that Sierra was a slime-making fiend, but Dawn had no interest in meeting with these people again just so they could lecture her some more. But something about Mikaela’s desperation called to her. The girl seemed lonely and misunderstood. Dawn knew what that was like.
When she and her mom had first moved to Harper Landing after her parents’ divorce, she’d felt the same way, like she existed as her own island of misery. The expectations of the adults crashed against her shores until she became old enough to create her own safe harbor. For Dawn, that had been dancing, high school friends, and eventually going off to college. But a girl like Mikaela had years of living before maturity would bring her happiness.
“Thank you for being willing to talk,” Alison said. “Do you have a piece of paper so I can write down our address?”
“Yeah.” Dawn found a scrap of paper and her Mickey Mouse pen under the counter. She passed them to Alison.
“You don’t have to do this, Alison,” Warren said.
“Yes, I do.” Alison set down the pen. “Because you were making a mess of it.”
The door to the shop was pushed open, and Sierra burst inside, holding a smoothie in one hand and a phone in the other. “Mom, guess what? Look at this.”
Mark entered behind her, holding two more drinks. At five ten, Mark was shorter than Warren but equally fit. A former rower for the University of Washington’s crew team, Mark was now a member of the Washington Athletic Club and rowed the erg machine every day before work.
“Look at what?” Dawn asked, reaching out her hand for the phone. She knew the device belonged to Mark because Sierra didn’t have one. She noticed he still used the custom cover Sierra had given him for his birthday. The image depicted a pretty scene from their backpacking trip to Watson Lakes.
“Our petition has one thousand four hundred signatures.” Sierra put the phone in Dawn’s hand then looked at Mikaela. “Hi,” she said simply.
“Hi,” Mikaela answered before putting her baseball cap back on.
“Well done, ladies.” Mark gave Dawn her smoothie. “I’m proud of you.”
“Is this your husband?” Alison asked. “He’s, of course, invited too.”
“Ex-husband,” Dawn said, noticing the way Warren’s shoulders relaxed when she said it. Not that she cared what Warren thought about her or her marriage or her lack of one.
She and Sierra would go to dinner tomorrow night and listen to what they had to say but only so they could get more ammo to fight the bridge. Because Dawn was committed now, even if it meant jumping into the spotlight and making the entire city notice her. She would blow Warren’s bridge proposal to smithereens.