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How is it that Connor is so different from his dad?Ariel wondered as she drove into town, Miles beside her in the passenger’s seat. The younger Stanton was so kind, so mature, so considerate of others. Nothing like his father.
Ariel checked the clock on her dashboard—now that Stanton was on her mind, and going by the hour, she had time for a very quick stop in at city hall, to see if there was anything that could be done about his noisy problem of a project.
“Do you mind if I make a quick detour to town hall?” she asked Miles.
“Not at all,” he said. “I’ll go see to my business at the marina, if you can spare me for a few minutes.”
“Never,” she said, grinning, and he reached out to hold her hand, laughing.
“That’s okay,” he said, returning the laugh. “I’m perfect right here, anyway.”
***
Ariel had been so busy getting Leeside ready that it had been a while since she had visited the small town of Endless Harbor. Deliveries had flown, fast and furious, to her doorstep, and she hadn’t had much occasion over the last week to go into town. As she walked down the main street, she was reminded of how much she loved this place. The familiar faces, the quaint shops, and the warm community spirit made her feel like she was coming home, every time she was downtown—almost as though she were transported back to her childhood here. It was easy to forget about the outside world and its problems when she was strolling in Endless Harbor.
But Ariel couldn’t be distracted—her grocery app said that her order would be ready for pickup in twenty minutes, and so she had a time limit. Miles had walked the opposite direction to the marina, and so Ariel walked briskly to town hall, hoping to find a solution to the mayor's construction project. She wanted to see if there was a noise ordinance or some other regulation that could help her prevent the disturbance from impacting her guests' stay.
Luckily, there was no line when she walked in, and she sent a silent thanks to the powers of pre-Fourth-of-July luck that not only had her sliding into the office on the last day it was open before the holiday, but that there was no one else interested in doing official business at this particular moment. Ariel could feel the clock ticking down to her grand opening tonight.
She spoke to the town clerk, a round, middle-aged woman with cat-eye glasses and a kind smile, who listened patiently to her concerns. "I'm sorry, Ms. Hawthorne," the clerk said sympathetically after pulling up the file on the neighboring property. "But there's not much we can do. The mayor has followed all the necessary procedures and obtained the proper permits. As long as he's not breaking any laws, we cannot stop him from building his hotel."
Ariel felt frustrated and disappointed. “I don’t want to stop him from building, but there must be a way to get the noise level down. It’s a public nuisance!”
It wasn’t as though she objected to Stanton’s hotel on the basic principle—from her time in Miami, seeing that large city grow and change, Ariel knew that commerce was a balancing act between preserving the tranquility and charm of an area while also keeping up with the times and accommodating the needs of visitors. Ariel just wanted to operate her own business in peace. She would worry about what effect the megahotel would have on Leeside later.
The woman shook her head again. “Noise ordinance says this. ‘Operating equipment or performing outside construction or repair work on buildings or structures, or operating any construction device within one thousand feet of a residential structure that is already built, is prohibited Monday through Saturday between 8:00 p.m. and 5:00 a.m. the following day. This includes all construction-related activities, such as set-up work and travel to and from the construction site. There are no exceptions to this rule, except as allowed by subsection (B) of this ordinance. On Saturdays, Sundays, or holidays recognized by the city, construction or repair work cannot start before 7:00 a.m. and must end by 7:00 p.m., unless there is written authorization as set forth in subsection (B) of this section.’”
“So unless he builds his hotel at night I have no right to peace?”
“I’m so sorry,” the woman said. “Maybe try the state laws?”
Ariel thanked the woman and left town hall, feeling dejected. She had hoped that there would be some way to prevent the noise from disrupting her guests' experience, but it seemed like there was nothing she could do. She would check the state laws, just as she had hinted at to Stanton—there were bigger things than what he had control over here in Endless Harbor—but it wouldn’t be today, or even over the holiday weekend. She had a restaurant to operate.
Despite her setback, Ariel was still grateful to be a part of this community—and so many people had expressed excitement about coming up to dine at the Seaside tonight. As she walked back toward her car, she checked her phone to see if her order was ready to pick up. A big, red message notification flashed in the grocery app. There was another thirty-minute delay.
Ariel groaned. She called Miles, who said he could use another twenty minutes at the boat slips. Ariel agreed to meet him at the marina in thirty minutes and hung up. She looked up to find that she was right in front of the Throwback Diner, a stroke of good luck. Her friend, Jill, was the head waitress at the Throwback, and Ariel could pass the next twenty minutes chatting with her. A milkshake sounded good, too. Maybe a slice of pie. Ariel was in need of some comfort sweets and good company, and she knew the diner would provide both.
Ariel walked into the retro diner, feeling like she had stepped back in time. Every time she came here, she was greeted with the familiar smells of bacon, coffee, and freshly baked bread. The decor was straight out of the 1950s, with bright red vinyl booths, a checkerboard floor, and neon lights. A jukebox sat in the corner, playing classic rock and roll tunes.
She took her time finding a seat, admiring the vintage signs on the walls and the old-fashioned Coca-Cola machines. The menu, which was pasted on the wall as well as sitting in plastic-covered stacks by the register, was full of classic diner fare—burgers, fries, milkshakes, and pie. Ariel felt like she was in a scene from an old movie. She looked around at the other patrons. There were families with kids, couples on dates, and elderly folks chatting over coffee. Everyone seemed happy and relaxed, enjoying the atmosphere of the Throwback.
Jill spotted her and waved, gesturing for her to come over to the counter. The Throwback was also quiet, and Ariel knew that it was the calm before the storm—this lull between lunch and dinner, right before a holiday weekend, had been the perfect time to come see Jill at work. Ariel made her way over, took a seat on one of the stools, and smiled as Jill offered her a menu.
"Hey, Ariel! Long time no see," the waitress said with a grin. "What can I get for you?"
Ariel waved off the menu. “Apple pie and a vanilla milkshake. And I know. I’ve been absolutely buried with the new café.”
“Oh, right,” Jill teased. “I’m talking to the competition now. Are we still allowed to be friends?”
“Of course!” Ariel said. “Just as long as you don’t mind me trying to reverse engineer your perfect milkshake-making technique.”
Jill made a show of turning her back as she made Ariel’s drink. “You’ll never get my secret, woman!”
“Ohhhh, I’ll get all your secrets,” Ariel said, adding in a little fake evil cackle.
Jill turned with the milkshake, and Ariel caught a fleeting, pinched expression on her face—had she said something wrong? The look was gone in a flash, and Jill set the milkshake down, shaking her hand afterward. “Whew! That thing is icy. Must be acclimating to the summer already.”
Ariel took a sip of the cold, creamy milkshake as Jill cut and plated her pie. Three sips later, Ariel launched into a diatribe about the mayor and his catastrophic construction project. "It's just ridiculous," she said, her voice rising in frustration. "The noise is going to make Leeside the last place anyone would want to go to relax, and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it.”
