Chapter Two
The diner buzzed like an old TV stuck between channels, flickering between the mid-afternoon lull and dinner rush.
It was caught in a strange, timeless space where regulars lingered over fresh gossip and stale coffee and a random traveler from the backwoods highway interstate shuffled in to ogle the laminated menus and decide between waffles or the blue plate special for dinner.
Carter Beckett, or Beck, as he’d successfully rebranded himself since arriving in Bluebell Bay, sat in his usual booth by the window. Two eggs over-easy sat congealing next to wheat toast on a laminated glass plate. It was a quiet rebellion against the chaos he’d left behind.
He was a constant presence in the back booth of The Holler he couldn’t help but find it amusing.
“What’s her hurry?” Sandy said as she finished topping Beck’s cup, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
“Trying to save the world, one laminated brochure at a time,” Beck answered, eyes still on Caroline as she tucked a stray hair back into its perfect place behind her ear.
“She looks like she’s on a mission,” Sandy remarked, following his gaze.
“Imagine that,” he replied, pretending not to care. “Thought The Hollis Express wasn’t due here for a few more days.”
“Everyone’s betting on when she’ll crash and burn.”
“Sounds like a fun game.”
“More fun than you think. Gigi’s printing bingo cards. You in?”
Beck pushed his hair back, the sun-bleached strands flopping rebelliously into place. “I’ll think about it,” he said with a smirk.
“You know, she’ll save the town from boredom, at least.” Sandra gave him a knowing look. “Might even save you.”
Beck chuckled. “I’m beyond saving.” He watched as Caroline smoothed her sweater and marched toward the diner’s entrance.
The bell above the door jingled a cheerful welcome, nearly drowned out by the burst of conversation as Caroline entered. Her presence sent a fresh wave of chatter through The Holler her cheeks flushed from more than the sharp spring air. Beck noted the shade matched the juicy pink of her impossible golf cart.
Definitely high maintenance.
“Beckett,” she nodded, summoning a distant politeness.
“Mayor Hollis,” he returned. “Or is it still public advocate? Maybe you’re just acting mayor? I can’t keep up.”
“Not sure I can either,” Caroline said, accepting the jab with a tight smile.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon,” Sandy chimed in, arching an eyebrow in Beck’s direction. “This one has faith in you, even if he doesn’t admit it.”
“I won’t hold my breath,” Caroline mumbled.
Sandy deftly placed a napkin and silverware in front of Caroline. “You want your usual?”
“I’ll be back later to eat.” Caroline smoothed the paper curling on her clipboard as she looked around the diner.
“Looking for someone in particular?” Sandy asked.
“Two someone’s, in fact. I called to talk to Gigi or Mabel. Neither of them answered. I thought they would have been here.”
Sandy’s laughter bubbled. “They left just before you came in. Said they had an appointment.”
Caroline groaned. “Of course they do. They are probably visiting the print shop to print new bingo cards.”
“If it helps, they left you this.” Sandy handed Caroline a folded half-sheet.
“This can’t be good,” Caroline said, unfolding the note.
A small bag of candy tied with a silver ribbon fell out.
Before she could react, the bag tumbled into her lap, and she jumped, then chided herself for being startled by something so insignificant.
Putting the candy next to her coffee, she glanced at the flyer and sighed.
“They are relentless,” she muttered, staring at the words as if they might change if she glared at the paper enough.
“What are they up to this time?” Beck asked.
“Looks like they are having a surprise celebration party tomorrow night.” She waved the paper towards Sandy. “Did you know about this?”
Sandy shook her head. “No. I saw them heading toward the boardwalk.”
“Boardwalk it is,” Caroline sighed, lifting her coffee mug toward Beck’s in a mock toast. She took a sip and then placed the cup back on the counter.
As she slid off the seat, she tapped the stainless steel with her perfect manicure.
“Sandy? You’d tell me if there was a conspiracy against me, right? ”
Sandy’s laughter echoed off the diner walls. “Honey, when has not there been a conspiracy in town?”
“Noted. Get these seats repaired before Memorial Day, would you? I don’t want guests sitting on duct tape.” Caroline sighed again, but a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. Picking up her clipboard, she slid it under her arm and grabbed her keys. “See you around, Beckett.”
“Don’t work too hard, Hollis,” he called after her as she left.
The door swung shut behind her, letting a brief swell of ocean air and tuba music enter.
He watched her gather her resolve again and clatter back to her pink chariot, and then the golf cart zipped off down the street like a flamingo late for migration.
Sandy placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “You remember what I said, Beck? She might surprise you.”
Beck sipped his coffee, letting the slight burn linger. “I told you.” He watched the pink cart disappear around the corner. “Surprises stopped surprising me a long time ago.”
“Uh-huh.” Sandy cleared Caroline’s cup. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to get out of this place occasionally. Change out of those baggy sweats and put on an actual pair of shoes for a change.”
“Don’t go getting any ideas, Sandy. I’m a lost cause, remember?” Beck swirled the coffee in his cup and took another sip. “Besides, the only shoes I own are sneakers and a pair of flip-flops. Everything else I donated when I left Washington.”
“Apart from your sweats.”
“Apart from my sweats,” he concurred
Sandy wiped the counter with a purposeful swipe, her eyes sharp on Beck. “Maybe you should take a lesson from your girl Caroline there.”
Beck’s eyebrows cocked upward with skepticism. “My girl?”
“Setting down roots hurts no one. You’ve been here for two years, Beck. It’s about time you thought about a more permanent arrangement.”
Beck’s lips twisted with amusement. “Like a retirement plan?”
Sandy shook her head with a chuckle. “No, that’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. You should settle down.”
Beck stiffened, as if the words had found a sore spot. “I settled down plenty. Just me, my dog, and the ocean now.”
“If you say so,” Sandy replied with gentle doubt. “You’re still not fooling me, Beck. You can try to hide all you want.”
“I will not end up as fodder for Gigi or Mabel’s parlor games.” He ran a hand through his sand-dusted hair; the casual gesture hid an edge of irritation. “I like my arrangements. I’m not going back to my old life.”
“Never thought you would.” She smirked, refilling another cup at the counter. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll even surprise yourself. Look what happened to Caro.”
Ignoring Sandy, Beck pulled a few bills from his pocket and left them on the table. “I’ll get out of your hair. Let you warn the regulars it’s safe to come back.”
Sandy watched him leave, shaking her head again with fond exasperation. “Playing the hermit won’t last forever, Carter Beckett.”
He held the door open, shooting her a mock salute as he stepped outside.
The spring air was sharp with salt and possibility as he meandered down the street with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
He strolled the long way home, following the path of the evening breeze, knowing full well conspiracies and campaign parties had a way of sneaking up and catching him, even when they didn’t have tuba accompaniment.