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“That sounds terrific,” Evie said. “We could use a full-time female officer on our department. Do you live with your brother in Bayside?”
“No,” Caroline said, sending Scott a crooked grin. “I live in the employee dorm by the marina.”
“Really?” Evie turned a raised-eyebrow glance on Scott. “What do you think of the dorms?”
Scott wasn’t sure if the question was directed toward him or his sister. Caroline saved him by jumping in.
“It’s fun. Like living in a college dorm. But I don’t want to say too much in front of—” she jerked her head at Scott “—you know who. He already hates the fact that I’m living in the dorms instead of staying at his house where I’d be expected to brush my teeth and go to bed at nine o’clock every night.”
Evie laughed. “During the summer, I’m lucky to be in bed by midnight.”
No one said anything for a minute, the silence awkward in the loud cafeteria buzzing with conversations all around them.
He should say something. Ask her how her day was going. Mention the weather. Ask her when the tree obstructing the fire lane at the marina restaurant was coming down.
“I heard we’re expecting a record crowd this weekend,” Caroline said. “I’m on toll booth and traffic duty on Saturday.”
Evie laughed. “Good luck. Saturday mornings around ten are notorious. People have been driving for hours. They’re hungry. The kids in the backseat are picking at each other. They hate the way our cones are set up. They don’t want to pay for parking. It gets ugly.” As she listed the problems, she ticked them off on her long fingers.
“I may ask to be reassigned.”
“No way. We need someone rational at the toll booths when tempers flare,” Evie said. Her smile turned serious. “But you have to be careful. We’ve had officers and traffic attendants hit by cars. It’s a dangerous combination of orange cones, heat, anticipation and horsepower.”
Scott pictured a station wagon mowing down his sister.
“Why can’t you work in Kiddieland instead?” Scott groaned.
“Are you kidding?” Evie asked, meeting his eyes, a smile lighting her face. “You should see the stuff that goes down there. Parents fighting about the strollers, kids cutting in line for the motorcycles. And the crying. Holy smokes. The crying. I stay far away.”
“Little kids give me the willies,” Caroline said. “I’m never having any.”
“You’re not?” Scott asked. When had his sister decided that? Sure, she wasn’t dating anyone—at least not anyone he knew of—but she wanted a family. Didn’t she?
Did he? Maybe it was just an abstract idea right now...
“I’m going to try being an aunt first,” Evie said. “When my brother’s baby arrives this summer, I’ll see how I do at that. Right now, I’m headed West for a showdown. See you later, if I live.”
She picked up her drink, directed a tentative smile at Scott and wound through the tables on the way to the door. Scott watched her stop and exchange quick greetings with several staff members. She left the building and passed in front of the wall of windows, her long blond hair picking up the sun.
“She’s so nice,” Caroline said. “And lucky. I can’t imagine owning this place. What a fun job.”
“I’ll bet it’s harder than you think,” Scott said. “And when did you decide you’re never having kids?”
“Yesterday. When I was stuck on patrol at the entrance of the kiddie coaster.” She shook her head and forked some lettuce. “It was horrific.”
CHAPTER FIVE (#uad0c0979-609f-5530-9a3c-8835618016cc)
“DOES THE TREE have to go?” Evie asked. She shaded her eyes and looked up at the century-old cottonwood that guarded the new marina restaurant building, hanging over it from behind like a protective parent.
“You need a wider fire lane,” Scott said. “The tree is too close. It could block trucks and be a hazard.” He shrugged. “It’s just a tree, right?”
“Yes,” Evie said.
Scott drew his eyebrows together and scowled at her. Why does he have to be so grouchy about it?
“I don’t see why this is a problem,” he said.
“I love that tree. It’s visible all the way across the parking lot from my house.” She paused. “My former house.”
“And?”
“And it’s part of the skyline. Skyline that is not just roller coasters and rides.” She squared her shoulders. “I have happy memories of that tree, okay?”
“Okay.”
Before the restaurant was constructed over the past winter, boaters, day visitors and employees in the nearby dorm had come here for picnics. There was even a storage area for coolers and a dozen picnic tables. Sometimes on summer days when Jack, June and Evie were growing up, their mother would pack a cooler and the family had lunch in the shade of the tree. No matter how hot and sunny the weather was, it was cool and shady under the tree.
She could picture Jack swinging his long awkward legs over the bench. Her sister, June, kicking Jack under the table. Her mother handing out sandwiches, each of the plastic bags marked with a sticker denoting its intended recipient. Evie’s stickers were green, to match her eyes her father said. She pictured her dad taking off his suit jacket and cracking open a soda from the cooler. He’d always stay long enough to eat and talk for a few minutes, but then it was back to work.
Evie had longed for the day when she’d go to work with him.
The family picnics probably only happened three times a summer, but in Evie’s childhood memories, it seemed more often. Her father was gone now. And the picnic tables, too. But the tree remained. A tree that had been on the peninsula before all the swirling rides and flashing lights. It was a piece of history.
“Sometimes,” Scott said, interrupting her thoughts, “you have to let go of the past.”
If he had said it in a negative or even practical tone, she might have bristled. But his words were quiet, as if they were unintentionally spoken aloud. As if he’d meant them for himself.
She glanced at his face. His cheeks and neck were red. The tips of his ears, visible under his close-cropped hair, were pink.
Interesting. What was in his past that made him color up?
“So what are we doing here?” Scott asked gruffly. The moment of vulnerability was clearly over and he wanted answers. But Evie wasn’t going to be rushed or bullied. He was on the clock at her park. On her time.
“We used to have family picnics under this tree,” she said softly, a part of her still unwilling to give up without a fight.
She had no idea why she was sharing that detail with a man whose next question was probably going to be whether they had a fire extinguisher in their picnic basket.
Scott leaned against the rough bark of the wide trunk, waiting for her decision.
Evie let out a long breath and turned her head from side to side, taking in a wide-angle view of the marina. Even with changes, some obvious, some subtle, Starlight Point was still her family’s history. Perhaps she would institute a family lunch with her siblings and her mom at least once a month at the new restaurant. Without a tree shading them, but still a meal together.
Sometimes Evie wished she could stop time and keep everything as it was, but at other times she could hardly wait to see her plans in action. The future of Starlight Point didn’t always mean sacrificing the past...but sometimes that had to happen.
“Since it stands in the way of progress,” she said, willing herself to be the practical columns-and-numbers person everyone thought she was, “I guess we cut it down.”
Mel Preston pulled up in his work truck and joined them under the tree. He studied Evie’s face and shoved his hands in his pockets. Rocking back on the heels of his work boots, he looked up at the spreading branches of the old cottonwood.
“Did you work out a way to keep this old tree?” Mel asked.
Scott crossed his arms and said nothing.
Evie could feel the tension between the two men, but that was silly. It’s just a tree.
She shook her head. “The tree has to go.” She swallowed. The sympathy in Mel’s eyes almost undid her resolve. Mel had been at Starlight Point a long time. He understood.
“Will you call the tree service and make arrangements today?” Evie asked.
Mel nodded. “I’m sorry, Evie. Ever since your father passed, your family has had to make one tough decision after another. But look how far you’ve come.”
Evie put a hand on Mel’s shoulder. “Thanks. Some decisions have been a lot easier than others. I keep reminding myself it’s just a tree.”
“I kissed your sister under this tree almost ten years ago,” Mel said.
Scott tucked his clipboard under his arm and stalked off. He entered the back door of the restaurant.
Evie laughed. “I guess he doesn’t want to hear about family memories or kissing. It’s all by the book for him.”
“Then I’d guess he isn’t having any fun,” Mel said.
Evie smiled at her brother-in-law. “You should take home some of the wood when we cut this tree down. You could make a bench for your front porch and kiss my sister on it the rest of your life.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
“I’m full of ideas,” Evie said. “At least, I try to be. As soon as this project opens and starts putting money back into the bank account, I’ll know how much I can afford on my hotel renovation.”
“I thought you had the whole thing planned out?”
She nodded. “Parts of it. Most of it, I guess. But there’s a wish list. We came in slightly under budget on the docks and restaurant here, but I’m afraid renovating a century-old hotel is going to present surprises.”
Her construction superintendent had already warned her about the mysteries lurking in a hotel built when automobiles were a new invention. Was she making a huge mistake? Gambling on a possible payoff and a hopeful outcome just as her father had?
“First things first,” Mel said. “We’ve got two weeks until the July Fourth weekend, right?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll get this tree down, open up the fire lane and finish moving the wall that’s too close to the electrical panel. The signs in the restaurant got done last week.”
“Thanks, Mel. It’s nice to have the head of maintenance officially in the family.”
“You need all the friends you can get.”
Scott came out of the restaurant and balanced his clipboard on the hood of the fire department’s pickup truck.
“Should we go make nice?” Mel asked.
Evie shrugged. “We could ignore him so he’ll be more productive on the job. He’s on the clock.”
“Which makes it twice as irritating when he writes up violations while he’s on your payroll.”
“Maybe. But I’m still trying to stay on his good side because I need him to sign off on my hotel plans. And sooner rather than later.”
“What’s the rush?” Mel asked. He kept his voice low as they both watched Scott write up his notes.
Evie could guess what he was putting down. Inside that door, an electrical panel still sat too close to an interior wall. By only a few inches, but the inspector apparently considered it too close.
“There’s a tight time frame,” Evie explained. “Especially since we can never count on what kind of winter we’re going to have here. Remember last year?”
The marina project had faced numerous delays because of crippling snowstorms and record-breaking low temperatures. Windchills below zero and snow higher than the bumper of a truck made lousy conditions for working outside and staying on schedule. The hotel project was three times the size of the marina project, and weather-related delays could mean it would fail to open on time. And each day it was closed meant lost revenue. “Demo on the old wings has to start mid-August so we can prepare the ground and pour the concrete foundation before freezing weather slows us down. Even following the tight schedule Dan put together for us, we’ll barely make opening weekend next May.”
Scott turned his attention to the fire hydrant behind the restaurant and then propped his clipboard against the wall, making notes. Even though they were only fifteen feet away, he ignored Evie and Mel. When Mel made a low grunting sound like an angry animal, Evie laid a hand on his arm.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Evie said. “If we can work together, maybe we can get the restaurant open and start making money instead of losing it. And I think the gas lines for the docks are ready to open as soon as tomorrow if I get him to sign the permit.”
“Good luck,” Mel said. He got in his blue maintenance pickup and pulled onto the outer loop.
Evie walked over and leaned against the wall where Scott was still writing with a felt-tipped pen.
“Did you see the new fuel line valve?” she asked.
Scott nodded. Continued writing.
“I’m hoping you’ll sign the permit so we can start selling gas to boaters right away.”
“Signed it this morning,” he said without looking up.
Whew. Her relief was stronger than her irritation at his definite lack of people skills. She wasn’t asking him to dance. She needed his official blessing for her project—a project that would provide jobs for dozens of locals waiting to start work in the marina. She’d tried to put their skills to use in other areas of the resort but it still made for an unnecessary strain on payroll.
“And I’m sure you noticed the wall is being moved inside,” Evie added. Might as well get it all out there.
“Uh-huh.”
Fine. I’ll do all the talking. She really wanted to snatch his pen and his clipboard and toss them into the lake.
“I appreciate the very clear signage you installed in the restaurant,” she said. “If there’s ever a fire in there, I’m sure all our guests will find their way out.”
“That’s the idea.” Scott capped his pen, slid it into his chest pocket and tucked the clipboard under one arm. He looked at her, waiting.
At least he made eye contact. Was it courtesy? Was he only being remotely congenial because she was his boss? How she would love to test that theory by firing him. But she hated to do that to his sister, Caroline, who had apparently gotten all the friendly genes in the family.
Maybe now was the time to mention her next project and invite him to look at the plans early so there would be no surprises. Maybe they could be friends, not enemies.
She risked a glance at his face. A deep vertical line cut a groove between his eyebrows as if frowning was his natural expression. Perhaps not friends. Where was the slightly warmer version of Scott she’d seen as he shared lunch with his sister?
Clearly not evident while he was in Chief Inspector mode.
Still, it couldn’t hurt to plant a seed about her hotel plans. Evie opened her mouth to tell him she wanted to ask his advice on an upcoming project, but she didn’t get the chance. The radio on his hip beeped and Scott pulled it against his ear in one swift movement as if he’d done it a thousand times. His dark eyes remained on Evie as he listened.
“Dispatch to SP Fire. Possible MI, Space Race queue lines.”
