“Please.”She gestured to the empty chair.
Sally took a quick sip.“Heard you had quite an adventure the other day.”
“The tent rescue?”
“The whole town heard about it.You and Bryan working together, saving thousands of dollars’ worth of supplies, getting soaked to the bone in the process.”Sally’s eyes twinkled.“Romantic, some folks are saying.”
Cassidy felt heat creep up her neck.“It wasn’t romantic.It was practical.The tent was about to blow into the harbor.”
“Mmm-hmm.”Sally didn’t look convinced.“And how are things going with the festival planning?”
“Honestly?I’m not sure.”She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup.“I thought I could help.Bring some professional expertise, modern marketing strategies, and a fresh perspective.But everyone keeps telling me I don’t understand what the festival means to this community.”
“Do you?”
“Bryan talked about it a bit.I know it means a lot to him.But no, I don’t really know what it means to everyone.”
Sally nodded approvingly.“That’s a good start.Admitting what you don’t know.”
“But how do I learn?Bryan’s willing to work with me now, but everyone else still sees me as an outsider who’s going to ruin everything.”
Sally’s lips curved in a wry smile.“From your previous approach to the festival, they’re not completely wrong.”
“So what do I do?”
Sally set down her coffee and looked at Cassidy with the kind of direct, assessing gaze that made her feel like a balance sheet being audited.“You ask.You listen.You learn.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s everything.”Sally leaned back in her chair.“You want to know what the festival means to this community?Ask people.Not as a marketing consultant doing research, but as a person who genuinely wants to understand.”
She thought about her presentation slides and her target demographic analysis.Those tools that created distance between her and the actual human beings she was supposed to be helping.
“What does it mean to you?”she asked.
Sally’s expression softened.“The festival’s been part of my life forever.Started right before I was born.I’ve watched children grow up through it.The first time they enter the sandcastle contest, then years later they’re volunteering at the information booth, then they’re bringing their own kids to enter the sandcastle contest.”She smiled at some private memory.“My late husband proposed to me at the festival, during the boat parade, with all those lights reflecting on the water.”
“That’s beautiful.”
“It was perfect.”Sally’s eyes clouded for a moment.She shook her head and smiled.“The festival isn’t about attendance numbers or economic impact.It’s about continuity.About gathering together year after year and remembering who we are, where we come from, and what we’ve built together.”
She felt something shift in her understanding.“I’ve been approaching this all wrong.”
“You’ve been approaching it the way you know how.That’s not wrong, it’s just incomplete.”Sally stood and collected her coffee.“Talk to people, Cassidy.Really talk to them.You might be surprised what you learn.”
After Sally left, Cassidy sat with her half-finished coffee and thought about continuity.About gathering year after year and remembering who you are.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d attended the same event two years in a row.Her life was a series of new campaigns, new clients, and new strategies.Always moving forward, never looking back, and measuring success by what she’d achieved lately rather than what she’d built over time.
She looked at the Harbor Ladies Club table again.The four women were still talking, their conversation animated but warm.Whatever they were discussing, they were fully engaged with each other and the topic.
She stood before she could talk herself out of it.She crossed the coffee shop and stopped at their table.
Four pairs of eyes turned to her.The sharp-eyed woman raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Cassidy said.“I’m Cassidy Wren.”
“We know.”The woman didn’t offer her name.
