Page 7 of The Marine's Homecoming

"May I suggest…" Mr. Dorsey speaks again, waiting until Hattie throws her hands up in the air and shakes her head. She flops back into her seat as he keeps talking. "If the piers are in need of sixty to seventy-five thousand dollars of repairs to make them safe for a public festival, perhaps they aren't safe now?"

That makes the entire room go dead silent. And it makes dread pool in my gut. If this man makes too big a fuss about this, it could get my business shut down. I need those piers to run my party boats.

Evelyn looks to me. "He's right, Hannah. Have we had inspections?"

I stare at her blankly, like a deer in headlights, without an answer. I can't let inspections ruin my business. This wasn’t supposed to be the way this went. Luke was just supposed to agree because his dad would have. I know it.

"Well, no…" I mumble, and I feel my cheeks burning again.

"Hold on, now," Dorsey says, holding up a hand. "I'm suggesting that if we ask Mr. Maddox to use his pier and we shape it as the town offering to better his businesses and property, and leave the entire plot of land in better shape than when we left it, perhaps he will agree. It's a good business move."

Mayor Grant nods, staring blankly at Dorsey's face as if she's thinking while she's nodding. "And if we push inspections and he sees the amount of repairs needed, perhaps he will agree that a charming benefactor's money is better spent on those repairs than his own." A smile forms on her lips as she says, "It's a win-win."

I'm ready to chime in that pressuring Luke will only make him dig in harder when she lifts her gavel in the air and beams at the crowd.

"Let's put this motion to a vote." All seven town council members turn toward her as she says, "All in favor of hosting this festival in Bandon?"

One by one, all seven hands go up, including the mayor's, and Hattie's glare only gets hotter.

The gavel comes down then and Mayor Grant smiles again. "Done. We pass the motion to begin plans for a Fourth of July festival on the Maddox land." Then she turns to me with warm eyes. "You just work your magic on Mr. Maddox, Hannah. And Mr. Dorsey," she says, sighing, "how can we ever repay you? Thank you for your generous donations to our town. I hope your businesses can grow and thrive here. I look forward to hearing your propositions when the time comes."

And just like that, my time behind this podium is over and my motion has passed. Hattie is pissed, but the mother hen always is when her chicks are threatened. I stalk back to my chair as someone else takes the mic and sit down, wondering what sort of hell Luke is going to put me through before he finally gives up and realizes that this is what the town wants.

If he keeps refusing, they may just force him to shut down his marina and all the businesses there for repairs to be made, and if he wasn't the town pariah already, he will be then.

God, I feel guilty.

5

LUKE

Every step I take makes pain throb through my hip, but when the sweat catches the breeze off the ocean, it makes it all feel better. That January chill is nothing that'll stop my runs. My feet pound the sand in rhythm, moving closer toward the pier and the end of my route.

As I approach, I see a few cars parked at the entrance and know the businesses are starting to open. I'm set to meet with Tom Whitaker from Bandon Construction Pros in a bit, but they're early. I see the large black truck with a bright white logo and realize I'm doing this soaked in sweat, not fresh out of a shower the way I thought.

Mr. Whitaker is standing outside the office as I mount the stairs with my limp and nod at him. He grimaces and shrugs as he says, "Sorry, I'm a bit early. I wanted to get a jump on my day. I have a lot to get done."

"Yeah," I tell him, passing him to unlock the office, which I've been keeping more secure since I've started doing things aroundhere. Never made much sense to me why Dad would leave things unlocked all the time. "Just let me grab my phone."

Mr. Whitaker waits on the pier while I step into the office and rush to the bathroom, using a wad of brown paper towels to mop my forehead. Then I grab my phone from the desk drawer and snag a sock hat, jamming it on my head. Running with a hat on is gross, but sweating in this January ocean chill while walking in the breeze will get too cold.

When I pop back out, he's ready to go, already gesturing toward the second pier, where I know we need the most work.

"Looks like some moorings are loose over there. Let's start there." I nod and follow him out across pier one to pier two.

When I saw one of the boats free floating the other day, I figured the mooring had rotted away or something. Plus, with the dip near one of the pillars, it makes for uneven footing. If all I need are a few boards, it'll be expensive. Much more than that and it'll end up shutting us down while we get repairs going. But it has to be safe.

"I really appreciate your coming around to help out," I tell him, falling into step. "Dad should've taken care of this a long time ago and he just procrastinated, I think."

Mr. Whitaker grumbles something I can't hear as we turn down pier two. "Yes, well I've been sending those notices for a while now. I assumed he's got the point, but he's lucky the city inspectors haven't shown up. I'm just doing my job being friendly. I'll have to be harder on him from now on."

I grimace and sigh as we stop next to the first mooring, completely rotted away. "Actually, I'm in charge now. Dadpassed on last week." It isn't easy, but for those who haven't heard yet, someone has to tell them.

Tom looks up at me with shock and then his face settles. "I'm sorry to hear that, son." He nods and pinches the bridge of his nose. "My apologies. Your father was stubborn and you're right, he did procrastinate. But he was a good man. He'll be sorely missed."

I point out the bad mooring and change the subject, and he stoops to inspect a few things, making notes on his phone. When he crouches, I attempt to crouch next to him, but the stiff rod in my leg reminds me I can't do the things I used to do the way I used to do them. Muscles stretch and my bones ache, but I manage to squat down next to him and poke around a bit.

For twenty minutes we go over one by one the things he's already pointed out to my father, and when we're on the way down to look underneath the pier, we bump into someone else nosing around. I see her before she sees me, and the tension that coils in my chest when I'm about to get really upset starts low but spreads fast.