Chapter 18
Rain drummed on the roof above Kaiah Thursday morning. She peeked out Reid’s kitchen window. Droplets of rain peppered the
windshield of the Suburban while bushes filled with pink and white azaleas danced in the gentle breeze. Dark clouds promised
that the storm would last throughout the day.
Reid came to stand beside her, and the aroma of fresh coffee filled her nostrils as he sipped from his mug. Then he leaned
over and brushed a java-flavored kiss over her lips. She would never get tired of kissing him.
“Any idea how we’re gonna set up the market tents and that huge music stage while it’s raining?” she asked.
He shrugged and sipped more coffee. “We’ll figure it out.”
Kaiah pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jean shorts and consulted the forecast. Her shoulders sagged when she saw
rain clouds dotting the weather grid for the next six days. “Oh no, it’s supposed to rain until next Thursday. It’s going to ruin all of our plans. How on earth will the festival happen in the rain?”
“We’ll go with the flow. It can still work.”
She took in his bright smile. “But what if no one comes?”
“It’s going to be fine, Ky. I just know it.”
The front door opened and shut with a bang before Becca came into the den. “It’s raining!”
Reid and Kaiah shared a smile before he addressed his twin. “It’s not a problem.”
“How can you be so calm, Reid?” Becca demanded. “It’s a mess out there.” She pointed toward the window.
“It’s going to be fine, sis. I promise you.”
Becca narrowed her eyes at her brother.
“Look,” he began, “since I have to work tomorrow, we’re going to get as much done today as we can. We’ll roll with the rain
as we need to.”
“If you say so,” Becca said. She started toward the door. “Let’s go, guys. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
A few hours later, Kaiah stood under the large tent while rain continued to fall. She glanced around at the different booths
where vendors had begun to set up. The wind blew the flaps of the tent open, and a cool breeze rushed over her before a cold
river of liquid began streaming down her back. Why don’t I ever pack my rain jacket on these reporting trips? she thought. Sheesh! She shivered and wiped her hand across her neck before craning her neck upward just as more rain snuck in between the seams
of the tent.
The rain hadn’t let up all day long. In fact, the rain and the wind had only gotten worse as the day progressed.
Kaiah moved through the large tent where merchants were stacking product and readying displays.
Her phone dinged with a text, and when she found Hayes’s name on the screen, she groaned.
She hadn’t responded to his text on Tuesday.
Hayes: Kaiah, please. Can we talk?
Instead, she’d told Reid about their breakup, and it had felt good to get it off her chest. Reid had been so kind to her.
And she had nothing else to give to someone who’d taken so much from her.
But after two days of silence, Hayes had reached out again:
Hayes: Ky, come on. I really want to talk to you.
Hayes: I know you’re working on a story in NC. I’ve liked your articles.
Hayes: How long will you be there? Can I come see you?
Hayes: We need to talk, Ky. Please!
“Can’t you take a hint?” she said, glowering at her phone.
“Who are you talking to?”
Kaiah whirled around to find Becca, who watched her with confusion. “Sorry. I got a text from my ex.”
“What does that jerk want?”
Kaiah angled the screen toward Becca.
“Ugh,” Becca said. “Time to block him.”
Kaiah shook her head. “I can’t, just in case something happens to George. Or if he has a lead on a story.”
“Listen, I know you’re a freelancer and jobs are hard to come by sometimes.
But Hayes doesn’t deserve to stay in contact with you or know where you are,” Becca said.
But when Kaiah hesitated, she threw her arms up in the air.
“He took your dog, Kaiah. The one you cared for together. Who does that?” She waved him off.
“Forget about that guy. He’s not worth your time. ”
Then her expression became clandestine. “As long as we’re being real right now, tell me this: Are you dating my brother?”
Kaiah pocketed her phone, staying quiet for a beat before answering. “Um, yeah. Sort of. How did you know?”
Becca scoffed, then smiled. “Uh, anybody who’s seen the goo-goo eyes you give each other would know. Plus, I saw you kiss
him before we left his house earlier. That was a pretty good clue.” She elbowed Kaiah in the side. “I approve, by the way.”
Kaiah beamed. “Thanks. I do too.”
“Rebecca,” a woman called from a nearby booth. A sign beside her read Beach Collectibles. “I’m starting to wonder why we’re bothering to set up this market when it’s going to rain until next Friday. Who’s gonna
come out for this?”
“You know what? I was thinking the same thing,” a man called from the Carolina Jewelers booth. “This is a waste of time, not
to mention manpower. We should load it all up and take it back to the store. At least people can park in front of our buildings
and shop in the rain. Who’s gonna trudge through all that mud?”
“Y’all, don’t be a bunch of Debbie Downers. It’s all going to be fine,” Reid called while he walked toward the man. He held
up his arms, and his face was the picture of calm. “I have a feeling the weather is going to pass us over and the weekend
is going to be perfect.”
“What forecast are you reading?” the man from the jeweler’s booth asked. “The one from the Pie in the Sky channel?”
Becca’s phone started to ring, and she answered it. “Hi, Mayor Whittington.” Her tone was sunnier than her expression. “Yes, absolutely. I’ll spread the word.” She hung up the call and glanced around. “We’re having an emergency town meeting tonight at seven to discuss the festival.”
Worry drenched Kaiah’s spirit like the pouring rain.
Reid rested his hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be fine,” he whispered in her ear. “You’ll see.”
Although she was certain the weather was against them, she hoped Reid was right.
A rumble of conversations echoed around the large town hall later that evening while rain pounded on the roof. Kaiah stood
in the back of the hall beside Cash while Reid and Becca walked up to the podium with the mayor.
She wrung her hands while she glanced around the full room. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering if the festival was going
to fall apart, if the elementary school kids would ever leave their crowded classrooms and get the attention they needed to
thrive. She wondered if the stories she was writing were making a difference at all for this town that had grown so dear to
her, mostly because the people who made it their home had opened their hearts to her.
“Good evening,” Mayor Whittington said into the microphone, pulling Kaiah back to the present. “Let’s get started. I called
this meeting so that we can firm up our plans for the festival.”
“There isn’t going to be a festival if this rain doesn’t stop,” a man called from the back of the hall.
“We’ve spent all this money,” a woman yelled, “and now it’s going to be a washout!”
A chorus of voices agreed with her.
Kaiah turned to Cash beside her. “I don’t have a good feeling about this meeting.”
“I don’t think I do either,” Cash agreed.
“And what about the school?” another woman hollered. “We were going to save the school, and now we’re just going to lose money.”
“That’s the truth!” a man exclaimed. “We have guests arriving tomorrow. If they look at the weather forecast, they’re going
to cancel their reservations, and we’ll lose all that revenue.”
“Why are we having the festival this early anyway?” another hollered. “It would make more sense to have it in summer when
it’s warm and you can actually swim!”
A murmur of conversations swept around the hall again, and the dissatisfied buzzing grew louder and louder.
The mayor spoke into the microphone, but her voice was lost in the crescendo of complaints echoing around the hall.
Reid came up behind the mayor, touched her shoulder, and whispered something before she moved to the side and he took command
of the microphone. His mouth moved, but his words weren’t audible over the angry protests. His gaze slid around the room before
he stuck two fingers in his mouth and blew out a whistle that pierced over the loudspeaker, instantly silencing the voices.
“Thank you.” Reid’s smooth voice was calm despite the heightened stress in the room. “Now, I know everyone is concerned about
the weather, but I need you to listen.” He rested his hands on the podium. “I’ve seen the forecast. I know it’s supposed to
rain until late next week. We can’t control the weather, but we can control our attitudes. If we keep up our enthusiasm for the event, then our excitement will spread to others. Energy is infectious.
People want to be somewhere others want to be.
Our festival is still going to be dynamite, even if it rains.
Think about it: We can still have our lighthouse illumination ceremony.
The tents are set up for the market, and the vendors are ready to go.
The stage is covered, and we can play up the rainy concert as having a ‘music fest’ vibe—the weather never drowns out the crowds at Bonnaroo or Lollapalooza, does it?
“Y’all, I know this isn’t the festival we expected,” Reid continued. “But if we’re excited about this event, people will show
up. We can show guests a good time and encourage them to come back to see us again. If we keep our spirits up, I promise this
festival is not going to be a waste of time or money.”
He paused, and his wide chest rose and then fell. “Someone asked why we plan this festival for April instead of closer to
summer. I think we all need a reminder about our town and its history. Some of you may have forgotten why we have this festival
every year. It’s about Coral Cove and why we live here. It’s because of our beloved lighthouse, the symbol of our town, that