The noise, which sounded like a very loud text message alert, came from the kitchen, but they all had their cell phones with them.
Gina pushed off from the wall and turned toward the kitchen. “That’s the timer on the oven. I was experimenting with another pie.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Nick hadn’t stayed long at the brew pub the previous night. The truth was he was a bit down at the way Jules had given him the cold shoulder. He knew he deserved it, but he’d felt a connection with her, even though they didn’t know each other very well. He still wanted to explore that connection, but he had no idea how to make up for his idiotic behavior.
Even if Jules never spoke to him again, he still wanted the motel to get the loan. That had been more difficult than he’d expected without Gramps’s stamp of approval. Even though there was no mortgage on the motel and it was seaside real estate, the bank saw no value in it, especially since there were no recent income statements, and prospects of income were grim, considering no one came to town. Or at least they hadn’t until recently.
The town needed that motel if it was going to thrive, and just seeing what had happened in town over the past few days had Nick being hopeful about the future of Shell Cove. That was why he’d assured Gary that the bank itself would guarantee the loan. If the Beachcomber defaulted on it, the Shell Cove Bank and Trust would bear the responsibility.
Gramps would be mad about that, but Nick hadn’t been able to find any other way to get Gary to consider it. It was still a long shot, but at least Gary was thinking it over, and Nick expected his response any time. Which was why he kept glancing at his phone as he gazed out the window, watching the activity about town from the front lobby of the bank.
“Expecting an important call?”
Gramps had come up behind him. Was it Nick’s imagination, or did the old man have more of a spring in his step?
“Nah, just watching the town. It’s really something how they’ve spruced it up. Isn’t it?” His heart squeezed at the lie about the call. He hated lying to Gramps, but he wanted to get Gary’s approval before he confessed what he’d been up to.
Gramps merely grunted, but Nick thought he saw a spark in his eye as he continued to gaze out at the street.
“More tourists is better for the bank too. Businesses will want to improve. New businesses will start up. They will need loans. People will have more money to invest and deposit into their savings accounts,” Nick said.
That got a smile from his grandfather. “Now you’re talking my language.”
But Gramps’s language hadn’t always been about money. Nick remembered how Gramps used to laugh and enjoy life when Gram was alive. Even after, he’d had his friends to console him. Lately, he just sat alone in his office or at home. Nick didn’t even think he had friends anymore. It was like Gramps had gotten broken, and Nick wished he knew how to fix him. Maybe a prosperous town would help.
“This baking contest is sure bringing people in. I know it’s only temporary, but it’s lit a fire under every business in town.” Nick gestured to the window. “Look how happy everyone is. Maybe it will continue. I heard one of the girls from the Beachcomber talking about bringing more events to town. That will mean more money in the town coffers and eventually the banks. That should make you happy.” Nick clapped his grandfather on the shoulder and headed back to his office.
* * *
The town comingto life did make Henry happy. He was just so used to being grumpy, he felt reluctant to let happiness back into his life. He had a lot to be grumpy for. Didn’t he?
But as he sat on the bench at the end of the pier, drinking a coffee from Ocean Brew and watching the activity in the old donut shop, he wondered if he really did have a lot to be grumpy for. In some ways, his life had gone downhill when the town did. Part of that was that Rena had left. She had lit up his life, and even though she apparently didn’t feel as strongly as he did, it had been hard with her just taking off and not even saying goodbye.
Decades had gone by, though. Why was he hanging onto that old wound? Had he just gotten so used to it, or was it that he didn’t want to admit that he’d sat back and let his life and the town fade into gloom without doing anything about it?
“Excuse me, can I sit here? I need to tie my shoe.” A middle-aged woman looked hopefully at the other end of the bench.
Henry shifted over. “Of course.”
“Thanks.” The woman sat and bent over, working at the lace of her sneaker. “Isn’t it exciting? The baking contest, I mean. I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“Yes, very.” Henry really didn’t think the contest itself was that exciting, but he had to admit the festive vibe around the pier was perking him up.
“I came to town to see it. I’m about an hour away, and I can’t believe I’ve never heard of Shell Cove.” The woman turned her head to look at him as she continued with the lace tying. “It’s so quaint here!”
“It’s a well-kept secret.”
“I bet! Well, I’m not going to keep it a secret. In fact, I’m going to bring my family back on a vacation in the fall. Do you have any pumpkin contests or festivals?”
“Of course,” Henry lied. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to discourage anyone from coming back to town. Plus, he had a sneaking suspicion that the town might actually have a pumpkin festival that fall, if some people had their way. His thoughts turned to Rena, Pearl, Leena, and Rose. They used to organize all sorts of things like that. It used to be fun.
“Great.” The woman finished with her lace and stood. “Well, thanks for letting me share the bench. Have a great day.”
The woman walked off, and Henry settled back with his coffee. His spirits were a little brighter. It was odd that just talking to a stranger had perked him up. He hadn’t made the effort to talk to anyone, friend or stranger, in a long time. In his determination to wallow in self-pity, he’d denied himself the companionship of others, and he was starting to remember how nice that could be.
Chapter Thirty-Three
