“I’m not sure of anything right now. I didn’t say I’d never practice law again. I just don’t know if, when, or where. I can take the Massachusetts exam anytime. I don’t have to decide right now.” Grace turned her attention back to the books.
“Besides, I’m having fun creating websites,” she added. “I have three clients lined up, and I’m going to work on the mayor and the council to update the town’s website. Have you ever looked at it?” Without waiting for a response, she went on, “It’s woefully dull and unimaginative and doesn’t do justice to this pretty town. Wyndham Beach should have a much more robust tourist business. It’s well located, totally charming, has beautiful beaches, good—some truly great—restaurants, pretty B&Bs. But tourists? Not as many as we should have. Why do you suppose that is?” Grace emptied one shelf and moved on to another. “People like to check out websites before they make decisions like where they want to go on vacation or long weekends. They want to be able to look at their choices of where to stay and where to eat. The website we have now is pathetic. No pictures of the cute shops in the center of town or the beautiful historic district. The charming B&Bs are busiest when the academy has a weekend that brings in families. And”—she paused—“the only photo of a beach on the website is of the ‘Beach Closed to Swimmers’ sign next to the lifeguard stand on the Cottage Street Beach. How inviting is that?”
“And you would do what?” Liddy asked as she emptied the table of bestsellers, noting the newest was six months old.
“Show off the town’s strengths, its beauty. Photos of the harbor with the sailboats. People fishing at Cottage Street Beach—who swims there anyway? Drunken teenagers in the middle of the night? The beaches they should focus on are Island Road and Ellis. There should be all sorts of info about places to stay, places to dine, places to shop, including pictures from every season. The shops on the Stroll are fabulous, but who knows about them other than people who live in Wyndham Beach? Oh, and the occasional Alden parent who sticks around for more than the amount of time it takes to watch a lacrosse game. We should be marketing what the town has to offer to those parents, give them a reason to stay here when they visit their kids. There’s so much, and yet you’d never know it from looking at the website. I realize our proximity to the Cape could be part of our problem—who doesn’t love Cape Cod?—but there’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to attract people who don’t want the crowds on the Cape.”
“So are you working up a proposal?” Liddy asked.
“I will as soon as I finish the Meehans’ new websites. Separate sites for each of their shops—Ground Me, Dazzle Me, Dress Me Up—and one big site linking those to each other and then to all the shops on the Stroll. I’m having the time of my life.”
“Sometimes a change of scenery, a change in routine, is good for the imagination,” Maggie said.
“It’s sure worked out that way for me. All the years I practiced law, I never thought about changing careers, and I never thought of myself as an especially creative person. But then came the big boom in my life, and here I am, and I’m having fun. I guess sometimes you just need to trust in providence or God or fate or whatever you believe in.” Grace turned her back and returned to her book sorting.
“It’s wise to keep all the doors open,” Liddy said. “You never know what might come through next.” She directed her gaze to Maggie. “Take your mother, for example.”
Maggie and Grace both laughed.
“Yeah, Mom kept the doors open, all right,” Grace said, a glint in her eyes. “And look where she is now. Back with her old boyfriend, reunited with her lost son. Even found a couple of grandkids she hadn’t known about. If Joe and Natalie hadn’t sent their spit into the same genealogy site, Mom, chances are he never would have found you or Brett.”
“Well, that would have happened even if you’d stayed in Pennsylvania,” Liddy reminded her.
“True.” Maggie nodded. “Natalie and Joe had been communicating for several months before I knew anything about it. And I guess at some point Brett and I would have been talking once Joe made it clear he wanted to meet us. But without Brett and I both being here in Wyndham Beach, I don’t think we would have developed a relationship again.”
“Yeah, if you’d stayed in Philadelphia, who knows? You might have met someone else,” Liddy noted.
Maggie shrugged. “I like to think things play out the way they’re supposed to, you know?”
Not really, Liddy could have said. Why was Jessie dying the way it was supposed to be? Why did my husband leave me when I needed him the most?
The women worked in silence for several minutes. Finally, Grace said, “I have the kids’ books packed up. What are we doing with the boxes?”
“I was thinking we’d just lug them all into the middle of the room,” Liddy told her.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to leave them on the shelves while the walls are being painted?” Grace asked.
Liddy shook her head. “No, because while the walls are being painted, the bookcases are going to be painted as well.”
“Huh.” Grace stepped into the aisle to inspect one of the bookcases she’d just emptied. “What color?”
“White. The books will stand out better against a white background.”
“But the shelves will get dirty and show wear faster on white,” Maggie pointed out.
“You have a better idea?” Liddy dropped the book she’d been holding, and it fell into the box with a thud.
“I kind of like the natural wood.” Maggie ran her hand over the shelf she’d just emptied. “I think just cleaning them would improve the appearance.”
“Hmmm. Maybe.” Liddy considered the option.
“Or maybe you can have them sanded and refinished in a light stain,” Maggie suggested.
“I don’t have the time nor the inclination to sand down all those shelves and then stain them in addition to everything else I need to do. I want to open right after Labor Day.”
“Hire someone.” Maggie joined Liddy at the front of the store.
Liddy finished the last of her coffee. “I guess I could give Shelby’s a call. See if they can fit me into his schedule and how much he’d cost me.”
“Who?” Maggie asked.
“Emmett Shelby? We called him Tuck? He was three years ahead of us in school,” Liddy explained. “He’s got a contracting business here in town. Did a lot of work on my house over the years. You remember him?”
“Oh, sure. He was on the football team the first year they went to the state championship,” Maggie recalled. “He was a lineman or something. He and Brett were friends.”
“Right. Anyway, I’ll give him a call and see if I can fit him into my budget.”
“Liddy, did you get the paint for the walls?” Grace walked toward them, brushing her hands on her shorts and leaving dusty smears.
“Yup. Paint, brushes, rollers, painter’s tape, and some tarps. You about ready to roll?” Liddy grinned. “Pun intended.”
“I am. Let’s just leave the boxes of books where they are. Help me move everything away from that back wall, and I’ll get started first,” Grace said. “I love to paint.”