“Tell me about these ideas. Piper didn’t go into the details.”
Jacob sat up and Anders could see the excitement flash in his eyes. “First and foremost, they need a public ferry. BobDan does a great job, but his boat is small, so there are only so many tourists that can go over on a given day and there is only one time people can go. A public ferry could offer a cheaper fare, a more reliable schedule, and more frequent runs.”
Anders thought of all the times he’d been stranded on the island or wanting to go over or leave only to be at the whim of BobDan, and he agreed that was exactly what they needed.
Jacob went on to explain his plan to repair and upgrade the docks and marina, repave the roads, and rebuild the bulkheads, taller and sturdier to protect against the rising tides. “Once we get some of that basic infrastructure in place, then we can focus on the businesses open to the tourists, to make sure they’re being utilized to generate the most revenue possible.”
“I still don’t understand,” Anders said.
“What?”
“This all makes so much sense. Why is it so hard to convince them to do this?”
“Trust,” Jacob said, echoing the same explanation Piper had given. “If I invest my money, then they’re afraid they’ll lose control over their community. I can’t blame them, really. Corporations and developers don’t have a great track record for keeping communities’ best interests at heart.”
Anders stared at him, a thought suddenly taking shape in his brain. He knew exactly what he could do to make things up to Frick Island. To Piper. “Maybe they don’t need your money.”
* * *
—
It took only four days for the salesman Anders’s dad had recommended to make his first deal for a banner ad on his What the Frick? website. Anders couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the amount of money on the contract, but it wasn’t nearly as big as the second and third.
Two weeks later, Anders sent a check to Piper with a letter saying that it was for the island, for them to decide how to invest it, with a promise of more to come.
A few days passed and Anders didn’t hear anything from Piper. He looked at his bank account every day to see if it had been cashed, but the money was always still there. He’d started to wonder if maybe the check got lost in the mail or if she’d chucked it in the trash, which was where he’d started to think all of the letters and packages he’d sent her over the past few months had ended up.
Finally, a full week after he’d sent the check, Anders trudged from his car to his apartment door, head down to keep the bitter cold off his face. When he reached his apartment door, he was surprised to see someone already standing there.
“Piper?”
Heart thumping in his ears, Anders felt a mix of relief and joy and wariness all at once. She wasn’t smiling. But she wasn’t not smiling either, and Anders took another step forward.
“You are truly unbelievable,” she said, her face remaining unreadable.
He nearly smiled at the compliment, until he saw the glint in her eyes of unmistakable anger. And then he saw the check clutched in her clenched fist.
“The arrogance!” she shouted.
“What?”
“You have such a savior complex! You are not Superman! Or Clark Kent, or whoever it is you think you are. This isn’t a movie, Anders,” she growled. “Why can’t you just leave us alone?”
“I’m trying to help!” he said.
“No, you’re not. You’re trying to buy my forgiveness,” she spat out. “And it’s not for sale.”
“No, that’s not . . . Piper, you have to understand. I don’t want your forgiveness.”
She cocked a sharp eyebrow, jerking her head back.
“No, that came out wrong. Of course I do. I’m so sorry, you have no idea. And I’m sorry that that’s what you thought this money was for,” Anders said, desperate for her to understand. But then he realized that he felt something else, too—something that felt a lot like anger. “You know what? I’m not sorry, actually! It’s ridiculous that anyone could be mad at someone for trying to help—to make your lives better. And it’s even more ridiculous how you all think you don’t need anyone. People want to help. Sometimes you just have to let them in.”
Piper growled one last time and then threw the check in Anders’s direction. He watched it flutter to the ground and then watched her turn on her heel and storm off, leaving Anders standing at his door. She turned the corner to the parking lot and he wondered if there was a cab waiting on her. If she was just going to take off and he’d never see her again. Defeated and simmering with anger, Anders bent down to pick up the check, before realizing that he’d rather be in the company of an angry Piper than no Piper at all. He ran up the walkway and turned, following her path, and then stopped short before he nearly ran into her, as she was stomping her way back to him.
“And another thing,” she said, sticking her index finger straight out from her hand, nearly poking Anders in the chest. Her nose flushed red with anger. “Tom did not kill himself. I don’t know who told you that. But it’s bullshit. He would never leave me on purpose. Never.”
Anders wasn’t sure what surprised him more—the fact that she’d cursed or that she had obviously listened to his podcast. He wanted to reach out and grab her hand, entwine it with his, pull her to him, but instead, he stuck his hands in his pockets.
“I know,” he said.
“What?” Her finger remained between them, angrily pointing.
“I agree that no one would ever want to leave you.”
“Oh.” Her face softened and she curled her finger back into her fist and dropped her hand. “He said he’d never leave me. He swore it.” Her face crumpled and the tears came swiftly.
This time Anders followed his instinct to reach out for her. She fell into him and he just held her and let her cry, wetting the front of his down-filled coat with her sadness, and relief flowed through his veins at having her in his arms once again. Finally, when she started to calm down, she mumbled something, her face smushed against him, muting the words.
“What?”
“I’m still mad at you.”
“I know,” he repeated.
She extricated herself from Anders’s arms and the sudden emptiness left him bereft.
“The whole town is mad at you. Furious, really.”
“Everyone?”
Piper hedged. “BobDan. And Mrs. Olecki. Mostly Mrs. Olecki.”
Anders thought of her intimidating glares. “Well, she’s enough.”