Chapter 2
Lucy
With a safe distance now between her and the green-eyed man, Lucy walked down the path that ran through the town square, the towering branches of live oaks that were more than one hundred years old creating a canopy that shaded her from the late-afternoon sun. Spanish moss dripped from the branches and danced in the breeze coming off the ocean at the end of the square.
Tourist season had begun, and the sidewalks were crawling with families, small children running ahead to get closer to the fountain in the middle of the town square. The park extended north and south from the fountain, creating more of a rectangle that ran nearly the length of Main Street. Despite its shape, everyone still referred to it as the town square. Town rectangle just didn’t have the same ring to it.
Reaching down to pick up a piece of crumpled paper on the sidewalk, she saw just enough of the image on it to know it was one of the pro-development posters the last developer had put up around town. Never mind that town ordinances didn’t allow them to be plastered on light poles. The developer had disregarded that rule just like they’d completely ignored the valid concerns the locals had expressed about the plans. Lucy balled up the paper in her fist and threw it in the next trash can she passed.
Lucy and some of her fellow business owners had been accused by those who’d presented previous plans of being anti-tourism because of their objections to the waterfront development, which was ridiculous given that they all depended on locals and tourists alike to stay in business. But that was what developers liked to do—pretend everything was black and white. Either the town wanted progress and supported tourism, or it wanted to remain stuck in the past.
The planning board had reviewed three plans submitted for the waterfront development meant to replace the docks and restaurant that currently sat at the north end of Main Street and add additional commercial space in new buildings on either side of the marina. Lucy, who had been nominated president of the Downtown Business Owners Council when she missed the annual meeting earlier in the year, had attended every town council meeting and combed over every plan. Not only were they all aesthetic nightmares, but they were also completely devoid of any concern for their impact on the environment or the people who lived and worked downtown. From building a seawall that would disrupt native fish and plant life to shutting down the thirty-year-old family restaurant that currently anchored the marina space, the development plans were all a disaster from start to finish. She was so glad they had all failed to get through.
The sight of the Little Free Library standing just north of the fountain eased the tension in Lucy’s shoulders as she approached it. She marveled once again at the perfect miniature replica of an old Victorian mansion that used to sit at the end of Main Street. When Lucy first had the idea to add a Little Free Library to the town square, Bob had volunteered to construct it, and done a wonderful job, producing a dollhouse-size replica of the mansion on top of a post, like most Little Free Libraries were. With the town library then closing, however, it quickly became clear that dollhouse version wasn’t big enough to meet the demand. So Lucy and Bob got the proper town permits and constructed a small walk-in library. Shaped like a miniature Victorian house on the outside, the interior was a six-by-eight-feet room lined with shelves and just big enough for two or three people to enter at a time.
Lucy opened the door and was glad to see she was alone. A small ledge in the back was marked for people to leave their books so she, as the steward, could shelve them in the correct section. She’d tried to fit a used-book exchange into her bookstore, but people liked being able to use the Little Free Library at any time, day or night. She visited it almost daily to organize the new books.
She grabbed one of the index cards and a pencil from the wooden box on the ledge. Leaving the notes always reminded her of when Annie would walk her around the store, pulling books from the shelves and telling Lucy why she loved each one. Lucy never had enough allowance money to buy more than one book, but Annie often slipped a second one into her bag with a wink. She’d say, “Let this book take you away, and when you come back, you’ll be someone new.”
As a child, Lucy hadn’t really understood what she’d meant, but by the time she was a teenager she longed for the escape and tore through books so quickly that sometimes she’d take one back to the library the day after she’d borrowed it. Little Free Libraries had become popular around the country in the past several years, but Lucy liked the unique touch of leaving notes with the books. It was her ode to Annie, her way of passing along the wisdom Annie had given her.
Lucy’s latest read about two best friends who grew apart in middle school, told in alternating viewpoints from each girl, was perfect for tweens inevitably going through all the awkwardness and adjustment of those middle-school years. Lucy penned her note and signed it Once a Teenage Girl.
Next, she pulled out the book she wanted to leave for her new reading friend. It was a little-known account of Zelda Fitzgerald she thought he might enjoy. She’d long since gotten rid of the copy she’d read, so she’d ordered this new one from her distributor. She didn’t want Gatsby’s Ghost to know that though. It felt a little weird to buy a book for a stranger. As she’d left notes in the margin for him the evening before, she’d flicked through the pages and cracked the spine to make it look used.
As she riffled through it now, one of the passages she’d underlined caught her eye.
“To reinvent oneself demands an embrace of metamorphosis, a wistful longing for a world in flux, rather than a self in constant alteration.”
The passage had spoken to her because she knew firsthand how difficult it was to reinvent yourself. Gatsby’s Ghost had marked something in a previous book about how failure can sometimes be so big it liberates a person to reclaim their individuality. She’d been trying to figure out what that meant for days now. It certainly wasn’t what failure had felt like to her. When she’d failed at publishing her novel, she’d just felt like a big fat failure.
Gatsby’s Ghost had her wondering what it would be like for failure to be liberating. How did that work exactly?
With a sigh, she closed the book she was leaving for him and set it on the ledge where he’d hopefully see his name on the sticky note she’d affixed to the front. She looked through the other books that had been left recently and put them in alphabetical order by the author’s last name on the appropriate shelves, which were labeled for a dozen or so categories such as Biographies/Memoirs, Romance/Women’s Fiction, Thrillers/Mysteries. A few titles caught her eye, and she stopped to read the notes before organizing them.
Imagine if every store in our town catered to the wedding industry and the whole island was dedicated solely to destination weddings. Wouldn’t that be dreamy? That’s what this book is all about!
Enjoy,
Wedding Bells Are Ringing
Lucy shook her head and smiled. Only Caroline Cassidy, the town’s resident wedding planner, would think an island that exists solely to make bridal dreams come true would be paradise.
The next book Lucy chose was a beach read. She loved all books and read across virtually every genre so she could make recommendations to her customers, but kicking back in an Adirondack chair on her back porch looking out at the ocean reading about summer romances was one of her favorite pastimes. Lucy pulled out the index card to read.
After Hallie’s aunt passes, she finds out she has to complete a bucket list she made as a child in order to get her inheritance. She returns to her aunt’s beach house to complete the tasks and finds something that means even more than any inheritance. Loved it!
Signed,
Sucker for Summer Love
Lucy didn’t know who had left this one, but she had a feeling they could definitely be friends. The book was by one of her favorite authors, but she hadn’t gotten the chance to read this latest release yet because it had flown off the shelf at her store. She dropped the book into her purse and checked her watch. Time to get over to the town council building so she could get a good seat.
When she entered the council chamber it was already half full. The waterfront development had become a contentious issue, prompting crowds to appear at council meetings to ensure their voices were heard. As of yet, they hadn’t found a plan a majority of locals could get behind. Some, like the Heron Isle Conservancy, whose president and several members were already seated on the right side of the room, wanted the parking lots that currently served the docks to become green space instead, an extension of the park that formed the town square. They were directly opposed by the charter fishermen who needed the parking lots so tourists had easy access to their deep-sea fishing charters. Then there were the general contractors and tradesmen from the larger nearby city of Jacksonville who wanted in on building the multi-use complex proposed by two of the developers. As Lucy looked around the room, the groups looked like rival cliques from high school taking to their own corners of the lunchroom.
Even though she found the seating amusing, Lucy followed suit and went to sit with the other downtown business owners. She was, after all, their leader and they’d look to her to make a statement during the public input portion of the meeting if anything concerning was addressed. Lucy scanned the crowd for anyone she didn’t recognize, trying to get an idea of who her newest adversary might be, but she didn’t notice anyone out of place.
Bob was seated in front of her, so she leaned forward to whisper to him, “Pam said you heard they brought in someone. A fixer?”
He turned around to face her, his deep wrinkles giving away his age. Bob had owned the hardware store Lucy’s entire life. She’d always loved going there with her father to find the bits and pieces they needed to repair a railing or build another bookshelf for her always-expanding collection.
“Yeah, Pete said he overheard them talking about it when he was here yesterday getting a permit for his new front door.”
Pete owned the menswear store in town. His was another familiar face that had been around since she was a kid.
“What’s a fixer do?” Lucy asked.
Bob shrugged, stroking his beard. Lucy had always thought he looked a lot like a Black Santa Claus when she was growing up, and he’d only grown to look more like Saint Nick as he’d aged.
“Sounds like he’s supposed to get us all onboard another waterfront development.”
Lucy’s pulse quickened. She thought this meeting would be about tabling the waterfront development until they could explore the possibilities a little more thoughtfully.
“A different one?”
Shaking his head, Bob shrugged again. Just as he was opening his mouth to say more, the mayor banged his gavel to bring the meeting to order. The room was full to its seventy-five-person capacity with a few people standing along the dark-paneled wood walls.
As the mayor opened the meeting, led the pledge of allegiance, and went through some general housekeeping, Pam slid into the seat next to Lucy, who had been keeping her head on a swivel, watching the stragglers as they came in, trying to spot anyone she didn’t recognize who might be the “fixer,” but all she saw were familiar faces. She fidgeted as the council went through the other agenda items, ranging from designating a day to honor a former fire chief who’d recently passed to listening to a presentation by the local humane society on its new “Dog of the Month” program. Pam nudged her and smiled during the last one, mouthing Ava’s name, whom she’d no doubt enter every month until she won.
When it was time for the final item on the agenda, everyone seemed to straighten a little in their seats. It was time to get down to the real business.
“Up next on the agenda is the potential development of the Heron Isle downtown waterfront.” The mayor cleared his throat, looking up from his notes to scan the crowd. “We’d like to open with a presentation from Mr. Logan Lancaster, a consultant the town has hired to help us come up with a solution that increases the town’s revenue while also addressing the concerns so many of you here tonight have previously voiced.”
Hushed whispers erupted across the crowd, but the mayor banged his gavel quickly. Once the room quieted, he held up his hands in surrender.
“Look, I know the waterfront development has become a hot-button issue. I live here too, and I want what’s best for our community. But the budget is hurting. We lost the library almost two years ago now, and the elementary school needs some serious work on its plumbing and air-conditioning, not to mention upgraded technology in the classrooms. That money has to come from somewhere. I implore you all to listen to what Mr. Lancaster has to say. There will be plenty of time afterward for public comment.”
The crowd began whispering again, but Lucy was too busy looking around the room to see who she was up against. Then she spotted him. The green-eyed man from earlier was striding confidently toward the podium. Her heart sank. He wasn’t Prince Charming to her Cinderella.
He was Logan Lancaster.