Chapter 14
Cavin woke up excited to play golf with his new friends today. He delighted in how quickly he put together an outing that would combine business and pleasure.
He pulled on golf pants, a polo shirt, and a nice sweater. Looking in the mirror, he straightened his collar then plucked from a nearby bag the golf shoes he would later slip on at the country club. For now, though, he put on a pair of casual business shoes.
Up early he allowed time to grab a cup of coffee at Cru and find a sporting goods store where he could buy a set of clubs. He considered renting some at the country club but ultimately decided having his own set would look more professional.
Feeling good, he walked outside ready to head out for the day, but his mood shifted instantly when he noticed a flat tire on the front of the SUV.
“You gotta be kidding me,” he exclaimed into the crisp morning air throwing his hands up. Then his eyes drifted to the back tire on the driver’s side. “What the heck,” he shouted, realizing it was also flat.
A quick walk around the vehicle revealed two more deflated tires. Baffled, Cavin stood staring at the SUV in utter disbelief. It didn’t take a genius to figure out this wasn’t a coincidence. One tire maybe but not four. Who would have done this? Neighborhood kids, maybe?
Cavin’s mind raced. Nothing like this ever happened on past trips. How would he even go about getting this fixed since this wasn’t his vehicle? Would he or the rental car company be held responsible?
Tugging his phone from his pocket, he dialed his dad’s assistant.
Eventually her voicemail chimed in, and although her position required her to remain on call, Cavin realized she was likely sound asleep on this early Saturday morning.
Hopefully she would discover the voicemail soon and get back to him.
Cavin considered reaching out to his dad for guidance but determined he didn’t want to involve him unless absolutely necessary.
He would likely interrogate him and somehow find a way to blame Cavin by implying that he made an enemy which he hadn’t.
On second thought, what if the guy from last night who harassed him and Georgia near the bar was responsible?
As these thoughts circled in his mind, Cavin quickly decided he would put $100 on him being the culprit.
He probably followed them to the house last night.
That made Cavin wonder if he flattened the tires last night or this morning.
Probably last night, he decided, assuming that the guy was probably hungover this morning.
Cavin’s second call went to the rental car company his family used.
Glancing at his watch as the recording announced their normal business hours, he realized they weren’t receiving calls yet, either.
He contemplated searching online for a towing company, but how could a truck tow a vehicle with four flat tires?
Maybe an auto mechanic shop could send someone with an air pump, Cavin surmised. Before checking the listings, he decided to examine the tires more closely to determine if they were slashed or if only the air had been let out.
Cavin bent down next to each tire, trying not to let the knees of the sole pair of golf pants touch the ground. Upon further inspection, he found no evidence of slashes, and feeling for nails made no sense.
A quick glance at the local shops brought bad news. Not a single auto mechanic was open on the weekend.
“That’s why this town needs to grow,” Cavin growled. Atlanta would have numerous options open twenty-four hours a day.
A few minutes later, Cavin decided to walk to Cru.
That would give him time to think through this situation, and then hopefully he would receive a call back from his dad’s assistant.
As he walked briskly down the sidewalk, Cavin passed the restaurant where he met Georgia, followed shortly by Clawson’s where he ate a meal with Luther Perkins and also met Jeff, the banker with whom he was set to play golf today.
As Cavin approached the candy shop, he thought of Noel and spotted a table out front that hadn’t been there yesterday. As he closed in on it, he saw two small figures huddled behind the table, and then he heard the sound of crying.
A few seconds later, he recognized it was Laney and Levi sitting on the low-lying window frame embracing one another, but he couldn’t tell which was sobbing. When Cavin made it close enough to the table to see their faces, he realized both were in tears.
“Are you guys okay?” Cavin asked.
Startled, they both looked up at him incredulously.
“Dumb question, I know,” Cavin admitted. “What’s wrong?”
“That mean lady said we can’t sell hot chocolate,” Laney cried.
Cavin took in the purpose of the table for the first time. “What? Why?”
“We don’t have a license,” Levi shared.
“A license?”
“Of course we don’t have a driver’s license,” Laney added, still bawling, “we’re kids.”
Cavin contained a smile. “Where is the lady now?” he asked. “Did you tell your mom?”
“She’s inside talking to Mom.”
“She called someone who is going to shut us down.”
“The health inspector?” Cavin inquired.
Levi and Laney shrugged their little shoulders.
“I will see if I can help,” Cavin offered. “I am a pro at conflict resolution.”
“A pro at what?” Laney asked, puzzled.
“At helping,” Cavin clarified. “First I will take a hot chocolate, please.”
“The mean lady told us not to sell any more,” Levi shared.
Cavin reached into his wallet and dropped a twenty-dollar bill into the tip jar. “You are not selling the hot chocolate to me,” he explained. “You are giving it to me,” he added with a wink.
A slow smile crept onto the kids’ faces, and then Laney held a cup while Levi flipped the spout. In that moment a short man with a bald head hurriedly approached the table.
“I’m sorry, sir, these kids can’t sell you hot chocolate,” the man proclaimed authoritatively. “They don’t have a street vendor’s license.”
Cavin purposely stood in front of the cute posters, blocking the price. “These kids are giving away hot chocolate to Small Business Saturday shoppers,” Cavin announced. “The jar is for donations, and the money goes to help a good cause,” he explained.
The man’s brow furrowed, and for a moment he remained motionless with a puzzled expression on his face. “She didn’t mention that,” he muttered to himself.
When the guy scurried towards the candy shop’s window that showcased a stunning array of irresistible sweets, Cavin quickly ripped the taped signs off the table skirt and shoved them beneath the table.
Levi smirked while Laney monitored the man cupping his hands on the glass that Noel cleaned earlier this morning.
“Surely in a small town like Beaufort, a couple of local kids can help the community by giving away hot chocolate during the Christmas season.”
The man turned from the window. “I don’t see the harm in that, but . . .” he trailed off as if not sure what else to add.
“I am Cavin Dawson,” Cavin announced politely introducing himself to the stranger.
“I’m Samuel Lowe, town councilperson.”
About the time that Cavin took in the title, Noel came rushing out the front door.
“Kids, I’m afraid . . .,” she started before trailing off when she spotted Cavin and Sam.
Then someone else hurried out the door behind her, but Cavin focused his attention on Noel.
“I think we have come to a resolution,” Cavin announced.
“A resolution,” the woman trailing behind questioned defensively, and when Cavin turned to her, she added, “Cavin, why are you here?” with a surprised expression.
Noel’s eyebrows lifted toward the Santa hat atop her head. “You two know each other?” Noel inquired. “I thought you just arrived in town yesterday,” she said to Cavin.
Georgia didn’t wait for any further responses. “What is this resolution talk?” she questioned interrupting.
Cavin suddenly felt the need to walk on eggshells. He needed all of these people in his corner.
“Georgia, the kids are simply trying to raise money for the community,” Sam announced.
“No one mentioned that,” Georgia argued.
Noel looked at Sam and then at Cavin.
“They’re giving away the hot chocolate. Only accepting donations,” Sam offered.
“Wait, they have signs on the front of the table with prices,” Georgia recalled. Noel glanced down to where she helped the kids affix the signs as Cavin stepped back and Georgia walked to the front of the table for a better view. “Where did the signs go?”
“Are you sure there were signs?” Cavin asked nonchalantly. “Have you tried this hot chocolate?” he asked as he changed the subject while lifting the cup in her direction. “It is delicious. I might invest in these kids. They are the kind of forward-thinking people this town needs.”
Surprising everyone, Georgia took a sip. “It is good,” she admitted begrudgingly although her expression remained disgruntled.
“I’ll have a cup,” Sam said with a large smile.
Georgia chimed in again. “If the hot chocolate is indeed free and this truly is to raise money for the community, which organization is it helping?” she inquired while staring at the kids.
Levi and Laney suddenly appeared even more frozen than throughout the whole confusing ordeal.
A random MISSING DOG poster on a nearby light pole caught Noel’s attention. “It’s for animals,” she reeled off.
“What kind of animals?” Georgia probed. “What’s the organization?”
Cavin followed the movement of Noel’s eyes, and he imagined Georgia would keep pressing. “Lost animals,” he concocted. “The kids are starting a fund to help find missing animals.” It was actually a brilliant idea, he thought.
Levi and Laney looked like a couple of spectators at a ping pong match with their little lost eyes bouncing from one person to the next.
“What is the organization’s name?”
“We are still working on the details,” Noel replied.
“Kids, don’t forget to pour me a cup,” Sam reminded them, removing a bulky wallet from his dress pants pocket and casually tossing a crisp ten-dollar bill into the tip jar.