скачать книгу бесплатно
“Shelly’s mother hasn’t learned to like me yet,” Bob said. “Maybe next year. In the meantime, how about letting us inside the haunted house?”
Alice shook her head. “Sorry, we want to keep some surprises for our guests.”
“We’ll walk with you as far as the arcade,” Nate said. He flashed a smile at the reporters. “But we’ll have to behave ourselves and not crash the party. There’s plenty of time for going through the haunted house when it opens.”
The group of six started walking in a disorganized blob. She wanted to walk between the two men from the haunted house company so she could talk freely with them as she had been for the past hour or so. But she didn’t dare tell the Bayside Times to put their cameras and notebooks away and head home, no matter how much she wanted to.
At the steps of the Western Arcade, she conceded to smiling for a picture with the haunted house producers. Now would they go?
“You might just see yourself in tomorrow’s paper,” the photographer said congenially. “But it sure would be a better picture if you were inside and we got a glimpse of something scary.”
Alice laughed, but then she noticed Nate’s expression as he stood behind the reporters. His usual pleasant, polite PR man veneer had been wiped off as if someone used an eraser on a chalkboard. He swallowed hard and glared at her.
Was he possessive about the news that came out of Starlight Point, or did a picture giving her credit for the fall events burn his biscuits that badly?
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_5cd152fc-720f-5efe-baba-77a2f2b0f53f)
THE NEXT DAY’S newspaper was on Alice’s doorstep by seven in the morning. The doorstep actually belonged to her parents, whose house she still lived in. Alice had been a year-round employee at Starlight Point for two years after working her way up to the coveted position by many summers of seasonal employment. Waiting tables in the off-season hadn’t been profitable, but she’d gotten by and taken pride in paying back her own student loans.
She might even have afforded her own place, but she’d been meticulously putting aside a portion of her paycheck every month to repay her parents for the wedding she’d called off the night before it happened. They had already paid for the flowers, the church, the reception facility, the band, the dress and the cake. How had she let them and herself get so carried away and run up such a giant bill? Maybe she wouldn’t be regretting the thousands of dollars spent if she’d gone through with the wedding.
In a few more months, she could surprise her parents by repaying the entire cost of disappointing them in one fell swoop. Then, at twenty-seven, she could finally get her own place, wonderfully free of the past.
She grabbed the paper from the same patch of front porch it had been thrown on by a succession of paper carriers all her life. She had about five minutes to glance through it before her father would ask for the paper with his coffee. And she knew better than to wrinkle it or mix up the sections. Her older sister had never cared to read the paper, but her younger sister had a habit of turning the sections inside out as she read them, a quirk that had spurred at least one family squabble.
She scanned the front page and was not surprised to see a big article about the fall festival weekends, which opened in a few hours. There were three pictures. One photograph of the front gate with its clever decorations, most of which had been her idea. One picture of the giant inflatable pumpkin where the midway fountain usually spewed water all summer. The massive balloon children could run through was also her idea. The third image was of a building on the Western Trail adorned with spiderwebs and bats. No pictures of Alice or anyone else.
“Is the paper here?” her father called from the kitchen.
I’ve got to get my own subscription, she thought. She resolved to read the article online as soon as she got to her office.
An hour later, Alice was glued to her laptop screen, skimming the article and hoping—vain though it was—to see a glimpse of her name, just so she could revel in the feeling of doing something right.
“Come on,” she said. She scrolled past an obnoxious flashing ad and kept reading to the end of the piece. Her shoulders fell. There was no mention of her in the article. Despite her hard work, imagination and planning. Despite the fact she had personally helped inflate that stupid pumpkin balloon.
“You don’t look happy,” Haley said. She put a cup of coffee on Alice’s desk. “It’s from Augusta’s bakery. I got you the good stuff because it’s opening day for the fall festivals.”
“Thank you,” Alice said. She still continued to skim the article, hoping she’d just missed it.
“Is something not going well?”
Alice shook her head. “Everything’s going fine with the opening, I think. It’s something else.”
Haley stepped around Alice’s desk and looked at her computer screen. “I saw that article in the paper while I waited for the coffee to brew at Augusta’s. I tried reading it to distract myself from getting a doughnut. My strategy failed, but the article seems like great publicity.”
“For Starlight Point, yes.”
Haley raised an eye brow and waited.
Alice sighed. “Sorry. Yes, it’s good PR for the Point. I just hoped... It’s silly—”
“They didn’t even mention your name after all the work you did.”
“You noticed that, too.”
“I did. I guess it’s good that the attitude around here is all for one and one for all, isn’t it?” Haley sat on the edge of Alice’s desk. “Why do you think your name wasn’t mentioned? It’s obvious the Hamiltons really like and value your work.”
“They didn’t interview me or the Hamiltons. Only one person contributed to that article.”
“Nate,” Haley said. She cocked her head as if trying to figure something out.
Alice nodded. “I’m taking this way too personally,” she said.
“Does Nate have something against you?”
Alice hesitated. “The short answer to that question is yes. The long answer is something I’d rather not talk about.”
Haley raised both eyebrows. “Must be a good story there.”
“More like a cautionary tale,” Alice replied.
* * *
EIGHT HOURS LATER, Nate checked his watch, hoping the weekend event would start on time. During the fall festival weekends, the park would be open Friday evenings and all day Saturday and Sunday. As the sun slanted across the sprawling parking lot at five o’clock on Friday, a sizable crowd gathered outside the front gate. Most of them wore jeans and sweatshirts as the September evenings already had the chill of fall.
Nate stood beside Virginia and Henry—keeping them between him and Alice. In the few weeks he’d worked at Starlight Point, Nate had discovered Henry was a good friend. Most of Nate’s friends had moved away from the area, and even though he’d come home to be an anchor for his dad, Nate felt he was drifting.
Jack, June and Evie Hamilton shared a microphone at the front gate and each of them said a few words about the extended season. Jack pointed to Alice who was standing only a few feet away and publicly thanked her for being the mastermind behind the fall weekends. She blushed and gave a little wave to the crowd. Her pink jacket made her stand out in the small crowd of year-round employees who were being recognized—mostly department heads and art and design staff.
A group of performers plucked from the singers and musicians in live shows—those who hadn’t yet gone back to college—performed the national anthem, and then the turnstiles opened.
“We did it,” June said as she came over to Alice and Virginia. Guests poured through the front gates behind her. “I know your hard work is going to pay off.”
Nate watched June hug Alice and then her mother. He felt a twinge of guilt that he’d asked the reporter to leave Alice’s name out of the article and not include the picture of her with the haunted house designers. He’d made up a story about Starlight Point wanting to recognize the team effort, not an individual’s. But that wasn’t his real reason.
The last thing his father needed as he battled cancer was to imagine his son was revisiting a dark period in his past. Even if that past was long over.
“Quite an event,” Henry said. “Exciting.”
“The first of many if it all goes well.”
Henry leaned on a post and regarded Nate. “Think you’ll be around for all those?”
“I’ll be around as long as I need to be.” The first of many cancer treatments had begun only days before, and Nate already saw the long road stretching out before him. Although his sister wanted to help, she had a young family and a job an hour away from Bayside. Nate was the obvious and willing choice for helping his dad get through the second worst experience of his life.
“You’re a good son, coming home to help your father through a rough patch.”
“He’s the only parent I have,” Nate said, and then he caught himself. What made him reveal something so personal to a man he hardly knew? Even in his own family, Nate never talked about his mother’s accident anymore. He cleared his throat. “How did you know I was...uh...helping my dad?”
“Jack told me. He didn’t say much more than that.”
“It’s not just a rough patch,” Nate said. “It’s a road ten miles long.” Nate hesitated a moment, afraid to share too much with Henry. “But we’ll get down it okay.”
The crowd around them thinned, and Alice and Virginia walked off. His conversation with Henry wasn’t likely to be overheard, but it still paid to be cautious.
“I’m sorry about that,” Henry said, putting a hand on Nate’s shoulder. “I’m coming home again, too, after a life on the road and in the skies. Inherited my parents’ place in Bayside. Most days I love it, but some days remind me it’s tough to come home again.”
Nate nodded, but he didn’t reply. He’d already said too much.
Henry patted Nate’s shoulder and then dropped his hand. “The longer I live, though, the more I know everything gets easier with time. Sometimes you just have to wait for it.”
Virginia waved to Henry from across the midway as crowds of people walked between them. Henry raised a hand and waved back.
“All the Hamiltons have been terrific to work with,” Nate said, glad to turn the conversation away from himself. “I hope these fall weekends pay off.”
“Alice has been working on it nonstop, except for the weddings part. I think June had to talk her into adding the weddings when the Hamiltons realized what a great market it was. Easy money, I guess, since people spend ferocious amounts of money on getting married.”
“Good business,” Nate agreed. “And free PR. If the wedding guests leave with a great impression of Starlight Point, it’s a win all around.”
Across the midway, Virginia and Alice parted ways, and the older lady came over to Nate and Henry. “It’s going to be a great weekend, weather-wise,” she said, smiling broadly.
“Are you working tomorrow morning?” Henry asked.
She shook her head. “Not until later in the day. I’m having breakfast with the kids downtown at Augusta’s bakery.”
“I love that place,” Henry said.
Nate noticed Henry’s eager tone. Was he hoping for an invitation? Nate knew Henry and Virginia were friends, and he’d noticed them working together on numerous special events.
Virginia’s expression sobered. “We love it, too, and Augusta finds us a spot in her side room where we won’t be disturbed. We have family business to discuss.”
“Well,” Henry said. “Doughnuts will make even business a lot more pleasant.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t pleasant. It’s been five years since my husband died, and we had to put a few things in place at the time that have run their course now,” Virginia said. “In a good way.”
Nate watched the crowds passing and wished he wasn’t in the middle of an awkward conversation. Although Virginia wasn’t his boss and had, in fact, handed over ownership to her three children equally, Nate felt uncomfortable and a little sorry for Henry because he’d been subtly shot down.
“I hope you have a nice breakfast,” Henry said congenially, “and maybe I’ll see you later in the day.”
Virginia smiled and gave them both a little wave as she walked away.
“Piloting a jet is easier than navigating personal relationships,” Henry said.
“You’re telling me,” Nate agreed. “That’s why I save myself a lot of trouble by avoiding them.”
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_a42e47f7-d398-5ad1-af6d-b541fa9d70d0)
THE WEDDING FESTIVITIES were only moments from starting.
Alice had already heard the bride and groom’s story, and it was one of her favorites so far. Two lovers who had met one summer working at the Point wanted to get married on the old-fashioned train that chugged around the perimeter of Starlight Point, giving low-thrill rides and scenic views to thousands of people a day. The bride had spent a summer loading and unloading passengers, and the groom had been a conductor giving a colorful spiel over the train’s public address system.
Whereas most of the weddings she planned seemed overblown and overly expensive, she liked the sentimentality of this one. When they’d met in her office months earlier to talk about the wedding, Alice had cautioned them that the only way a wedding on the train would work was to have it early Friday afternoon before the gates opened at five o’clock for the evening fall festival. With special permission from the Hamiltons, Alice had lined up employees to shovel coal and operate the train. She’d had the benches removed from one of the open-air train cars and replaced with several rows of chairs for immediate family and the wedding party to witness the ceremony.
Alice and Nate planned to be one car back overseeing the unusual event and taking photographs for the company website. The orchestra was already set up in the second car and the two remaining cars awaited guests. The entire train would make two low-speed circuits of the park while the ceremony occurred, and then guests would disembark at the station in the Wonderful West where a tent was set up for a reception.
“I think this has potential for disaster,” Nate said. “Who ever heard of getting married on a moving train?”
“It’s not the weirdest wedding I’ve been approached about,” Alice returned. “At least it makes more sense than getting married on a roller coaster.”
“Gotta be a metaphor in that,” Nate commented.
Alice rolled her eyes. “It’s our job to give people what they want. As a public relations man, I’d think you’d be all about that.”
Nate studied Alice with a long stare.
“Sometimes people don’t know what they want,” he said. “They just act like they do until it’s too late.”
A familiar stab of embarrassment, regret and guilt carved a path across Alice’s chest. “It’s never too late to be honest about what you want.”
Nate’s expression didn’t waver, but his ears turned pink.
“Here they come,” Alice said as a throng of people in formal clothes approached. They had entered the park through the marina gate where the parking lot had been reserved, and the bride and groom led the pack. “Get ready with your camera.”
Nate snapped pictures of the group’s arrival. The groom wore a dark suit and the bride’s white gown billowed in the autumn sunshine. Wedding guests fanned out behind them as the group approached. Although it was quite an entrance, Alice was sorry to miss the wonder-eyes moment when the bride and groom first saw each other. The traditional walk down the aisle wasn’t there, but holding hands and walking together toward their ceremony almost seemed better.
Maybe this marriage was about more than just the splashy ceremony. She wished all of them were.
“If I ever get married,” Haley said, “I think it will be on the cable cars. I’ll toss rose petals out and shower people below on the midway.”
“Very romantic,” Alice said. “And expensive.”
Haley frowned.
“But fragrant and memorable,” Alice added. “Unique.”
Haley smiled. “I’d be afraid to hire you to plan my wedding. If I looked fat in my dress or my veil was a big mistake, you’d probably tell me.”
Alice laughed. “Maybe not. But I would tell you if I thought you were marrying a big jerk.”
Nate cleared his throat behind Alice and she felt a wave of nausea. Of course she hadn’t meant to say he was a big jerk. She’d called off their wedding for some good reasons, but none of them involved him being a Neanderthal or a horse’s hind end.
As the wedding party and other guests arrived, Alice directed them to their train cars. The bride and groom had requested an authentic old-time experience for the wedding, so each guest had a train ticket with their car and seat number in fancy script. Alice and Haley had created over one hundred of the unique tickets. The train cars were decorated with purple bunting and flowers. Bridesmaids wore strapless short purple dresses, and the groomsmen wore suits. Not terribly formal, but appropriate for an afternoon outdoor wedding.
As the guests boarded the cars, Alice noticed that most of them were in their mid-twenties like the bride and groom. They were about her age, and many were wearing wedding bands. Good for them.
It took the efforts of Nate, Alice and Haley to get the guests in the correct rows. It should have been easy—each row of bench seats in the train cars was numbered with an ornate purple sign—but several of the guests wanted to vie for a better seat closer to the car where the ceremony would be held.
“After you,” Nate said as he waited for Alice to board their car. He didn’t take her arm or offer to hold her bag of supplies as she climbed up the two steps, but he stood silently with a completely neutral expression.
