Page 2 of The Library of Second Chances
Taylor closed the book and held it to her heart in her trademark dramatic fashion. “He sounds so romantic. I wish Jack still wrote me notes.”
Taylor and Jack had been dating for the past two years. As Taylor told Lucy about the notes Jack used to leave hidden around the house for her to find anytime he traveled, a familiar Great Dane appeared running toward the water from the dunes. The figure that emerged next was Pam Beasley, a fellow downtown business storekeeper and Ava the Great Dane’sowner. Pam was holding her sandals and wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat and a blue linen coverup dress.
Lucy waved and she and Taylor began to angle up the beach in Pam’s direction. Lucy and Taylor always wore athletic shorts and tank tops for their summer morning walks, but twenty years their senior, Pam was always meticulously dressed. Her love of clothes had led her to open the island’s only consignment store, which was a thriving business on their little island.
Ava returned from the surf with a tennis ball in her mouth and dropped it at Pam’s bare feet to initiate a game of catch. Pam threw the ball toward the water and Ava took off, scaring birds hunting for their breakfast along the shoreline.
“Mornin’ ladies?—”
“He left her another one!” Taylor waved the book she was still holding as if it was a winning lottery ticket.
“A letter in the Little Free Library?” Pam’s eyes grew wide, a smile spreading across her face as she looked to Lucy for confirmation.
“Yes! That makes, what—half a dozen or more now?” Taylor turned to Lucy.
Lucy rolled her eyes to show she wasn’t taking it nearly as seriously as Taylor. “We just have the same taste in books.” Lucy shrugged. “He could be ninety. Or maybe it’s not even ahe.”
“What ifheis handsome and available?” Taylor was smiling like the Cheshire cat.
Lucy frowned. “Then he’s just passing through.” In a tiny town like this, more than an hour away from a major metropolitan area, it was unlikely he was a single man her age. Men like that were usually only there on vacation or working a brief stint at one of the resorts located outside of the historic district until a promotion took them somewhere else.
It was both a blessing and a curse that she loved her sleepy little town. Its relaxed vibe and slow growth meant it was onlya stepping stone for men like Taylor’s boyfriend, Jack, who was the general manager of the biggest resort on the island, and Lucy’s ex, Carter, who had been the assistant GM at the other resort on the island until he moved to Chicago at the first opportunity, taking with him her heart and the diamond ring she’d returned on his last night on the island.
“Oh, come on.” Taylor’s eyes were begging. “Give it a chance.”
“There’s nothing to give a chance. We’re just book buddies.”
“Book buddies? What are you, kindergartners?” Taylor shook her head.
“Speaking of kindergartners, I need to get home and change. We have story hour this morning at the store.” Lucy turned her attention back to Pam, who’d been observing their conversation while continuing to play fetch with Ava. “See you tonight?”
“Yeah. You heard the rumors, right?” Pam whistled for Ava to come back from where she was playing in the surf.
A cloud moved over the sun, cloaking the beach in shadow. Lucy shifted her weight, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her shorts.
“No. What rumors?”
That evening was the monthly town council meeting, which for the past six months had been the scene of vigorous debate over the future of the waterfront. Although the agenda tonight had an item related to all that, Lucy had assumed it would be a postmortem of the development plans that had failed to garner enough votes to pass. Pam’s talk of rumors had her worried.
“Bob heard they’re bringing in some guy who specializes in helping cities redevelop their waterfronts. Says he’s some kind of—oh, what did he call it—a ‘fixer.’” Pam nodded as if that explained everything she’d heard from the hardware store owner.
“What’s a fixer and what is he here to fix?” Taylor bent to pet Ava, who was now lying in the sand with her chin on her tennis ball.
Pam shrugged. “The waterfront, I guess.”
“Maybe this guy is just an accountant or something to help them reconfigure the budget now that the waterfront development is a no-go.” Lucy was certain there had to be a reasonable explanation. All three of the previous proposals had been voted down by the council following the petitions and pleas of the Downtown Business Owners Council and the Heron Isle Conservancy, among others.
“Mm, maybe,” Pam said. “I hope so. Save me a seat if y’all beat me there.”
“What rotten timing. You’ll have to fill me in later.” Taylor turned to Pam. “Jack and I are leaving later this morning to go to North Carolina and hike for a few days.”
“Hope the weather is cooler up there.” Pam wiped away the sweat forming on her brow. “Can’t believe it’s already this hot in June. Bring some of that mountain air back with you.”
Taylor laughed. “I’ll try.”
They both said goodbye to Pam, then turned to walk back toward the beach cottage where Lucy had grown up. As they approached her home, Lucy thought about the four generations of Sullivans who’d lived on Heron Isle, Florida. What had her father and his ancestors thought as the resorts were built on the north end of the island and houses started going up closer and closer together on the beach? At least then the developers had been kept away from the historic downtown area, the heart of the island. Did each generation always feel as if the peace and serenity of the island was under attack? She wished her dad was still around to ask. He’d know what to do.
Luckily, the bookstore had been busy all day, which had kept Lucy from fretting over the council meeting that evening. Customers had trickled in at regular intervals, and every inch of the rug in the children’s section was filled during story time. She didn’t really have a set amount she hoped to sell each day, but she knew it had been a good day when she’d spent as much time behind the register as she had away from it making suggestions for customers as they browsed the shelves.
