Page 65 of Enemies in Paradise

I swallow hard. I’ve been working on it, but every time I imagine standing in front of the city council, I break into a cold sweat. But I’m not about to admit that to Grandpa.

“I’m almost ready.”

“Is it good?”

I shrug.

“Then you’re not almost ready.” He turns back to the TV. “It’s got to be perfect.”

“What’s the point if the city has another option to consider?” Anger bubbles up again, as much because he’s promised to sign the historic status approval as I am by the fact I know he’s right about my presentation.

“Do you think it’s a better option?” He re-positions himself in his chair, settling in as the news ends.

“Of course I don’t.”

“Then I guess your presentation better be good enough to convince the city council yours is the best plan,” Grandpa says with less emotion than the newsman saying goodnight to his viewers.

“Doesn’t matter how good it is if I freeze when I try to speak to them.”

“Then I guess you better practice hard enough that you don’t freeze,” Grandpa shoots back.

I blink a few times, letting what he said sink in while my frustration softens into confusion. “Is that why you’re doing this? To make me get over my fear of public speaking?”

Grandpa shakes his head. “Not entirely, but it will do you some good. The only time I’ve seen you fight for something you want is on the ice when someone’s trying to steal the puck. Cassie’s taken control of this game. You need some motivation to get it back.”

He doesn’t wait for me to answer, just turns up the TV forWheel of Fortune.I stay where I am, letting a dozen emotions duke it out inside my head.

I want to stay angry at Grandpa, so I can blame him if I lose the shop. I want to still be frustrated with him for not helping me convince the city to develop the pond and shop into a park. I want to grab the remote from him and change the channel, because Pat Sajak is annoying.

But the other feeling emerging is a sense of pride. Grandpa seems to think I’ve got a shot with the city council, but he wants me to believe it, too. At least, I think that’s what he was saying. That’s why he put this fight into hockey terms…to motivate me.

He’s right. I fight hard on the ice. And I want this badly enough to fight hard off the ice. So, maybe if I stand in front of the city council picturing them in helmets and pads—instead of underwear, like everyone keeps telling me works—I can fight. Maybe I can even forget about my nervousness and take control of the puck.

But I won’t do it alone.

I’ll have my team with me.

I smile at the thought of my girls convincing the city council they need a rink. Because who’s got the courage to say no to a dozen pre-teen girls?

Darlene Voglmeyer. That’s who.

So my presentation will still have to be perfect. That thought is intimidating, but at least I’ve got the motivation now to really work on it.

I stand and kiss the top of Grandpa’s head. He flinches with surprise, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face when I say, “Love you, too, Grandpa. Thanks.”

After wolfing down the dinner Granny has waiting for me, I spend the rest of the night not only working on my presentation but also calling the parents of all the girls on my team. They don’t hesitate in their willingness to help and I can’t believe I hadn’t thought about it before. I was so caught up in what this fight with Cassie was for me; I didn’t even consider that other people might fight with me.

Many of them learned to skate on that same pond. They may not share my love for hockey, but they have their own memories they want to preserve.

Even as I work on my presentation, though, I can’t quit thinking about Cassie for a variety of reasons.

Specifically, her plumbing.

I mean, thestudio’splumbing.

The pipes in the building are as old as the building itself. They’re cast iron, so they could last forever. But between the roll of toilet paper, and whatever else the squirrels may have knocked in the toilet, there’s a major clog just waiting to happen.

Cast-iron pipes are amazing, but they do narrow with time because of rust build-up. I need to snake the pipe to make sure that the debris hasn’t further narrowed the pipes. If water can’t get through, the pressure will force a burst, usually at a seam or an elbow.

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