Chapter8
Winnie set the delicate teacup on its saucer and watched Sally arrange the scones on a porcelain plate.The lighthouse keeper’s quarters always felt smaller when Sally visited.Not in a bad way, but more like the walls leaned in to listen.
“Picked the scones up from the bakery.”Sally settled into the chair across from her and reached for her own tea.“I figured I could fill you in on the festival committee meeting disaster.”
Winnie raised an eyebrow.“A disaster?”
“Bryan stormed out of that meeting like a hurricane with a personal grudge.”Sally broke off a piece of scone and popped it in her mouth.“Linda called me last night.Said she’s never seen him that angry.”
The tea was too hot.She set it down and let it cool.Outside the window, the Gulf stretched toward the horizon in shades of gray and blue.A seagull swooped past.
She turned back to Sally.“Tell me what happened.”
Sally leaned forward.Her eyes had that gleam they always got when she had a good story to tell.“Well, I’m not officially on the committee, but you know how I sit in sometimes to offer help.So, Cassidy showed up with this whole presentation.Slides and everything.Very professional.Very corporate.”
“That sounds like Cassidy.”
“Well, Bryan didn’t take it well.”Sally reached for another scone.“He accused her of trying to turn the festival into some kind of theme park attraction.Said she didn’t understand the town or what the festival meant to people who’d been here their whole lives.”
Winnie sighed.She’d worried something like this might happen.
“Then Cassidy fired back,” Sally continued.“Told him his restaurant was struggling and the town’s economy was dying.Said they needed fresh ideas, whether he liked it or not.”
“Oh dear.”
“It got worse.”Sally’s voice dropped like she was sharing classified information.“Bryan said he never agreed to having a co-chair.That Linda had gone behind his back and undermined him in front of the whole committee.”
Winnie picked up her tea again.It had cooled enough to drink.“Linda meant well.”
“Of course she did.But you know Bryan.That boy’s been shouldering the expectations of three generations since his daddy passed.”Sally shook her head.“He’s terrified of being the one who fails.And now here comes this fancy executive from the city telling him everything he’s done is wrong.”
“Is that what Cassidy said?”
“Not in those words.But that’s what Bryan heard.”
Winnie turned the teacup in her hands.The porcelain was thin and delicate.It had belonged to her grandmother.Generations of Lockhart women had drunk from these cups.She understood about legacy and the fear of failing it.
“You’re worried about them,” Sally said.It wasn’t a question.
“They’re both hurting.Bryan’s drowning in responsibility he never asked for, and Cassidy’s running from something she won’t name.”
Sally nodded.“I saw her the other day at the store.She was dressed like she was going to a board meeting.In Starlight Shores.On a weekday.”
“She doesn’t know how to stop moving.Doesn’t know who she is if she’s not working.”
“Sounds lonely.”
“I’m sure it is.”
They sat in comfortable silence.This was what sixty years of friendship looked like.No need to fill every moment with words.
“You think they can work it out?”Sally asked finally.
“Bryan needs to learn that asking for help doesn’t mean admitting defeat, and Cassidy needs to learn that community isn’t something you manage.It’s something you belong to.”
“That’s a tall order for both of them.”
“Yes.”
