Читать книгу Meet Me On The Midway - Amie Denman - Страница 13

CHAPTER FIVE

“DOES THE TREE have to go?” Evie asked. She shaded her eyes and looked up at the century-old cottonwood that guarded the new marina restaurant building, hanging over it from behind like a protective parent.

“You need a wider fire lane,” Scott said. “The tree is too close. It could block trucks and be a hazard.” He shrugged. “It’s just a tree, right?”

“Yes,” Evie said.

Scott drew his eyebrows together and scowled at her. Why does he have to be so grouchy about it?

“I don’t see why this is a problem,” he said.

“I love that tree. It’s visible all the way across the parking lot from my house.” She paused. “My former house.”

“And?”

“And it’s part of the skyline. Skyline that is not just roller coasters and rides.” She squared her shoulders. “I have happy memories of that tree, okay?”

“Okay.”

Before the restaurant was constructed over the past winter, boaters, day visitors and employees in the nearby dorm had come here for picnics. There was even a storage area for coolers and a dozen picnic tables. Sometimes on summer days when Jack, June and Evie were growing up, their mother would pack a cooler and the family had lunch in the shade of the tree. No matter how hot and sunny the weather was, it was cool and shady under the tree.

She could picture Jack swinging his long awkward legs over the bench. Her sister, June, kicking Jack under the table. Her mother handing out sandwiches, each of the plastic bags marked with a sticker denoting its intended recipient. Evie’s stickers were green, to match her eyes her father said. She pictured her dad taking off his suit jacket and cracking open a soda from the cooler. He’d always stay long enough to eat and talk for a few minutes, but then it was back to work.

Evie had longed for the day when she’d go to work with him.

The family picnics probably only happened three times a summer, but in Evie’s childhood memories, it seemed more often. Her father was gone now. And the picnic tables, too. But the tree remained. A tree that had been on the peninsula before all the swirling rides and flashing lights. It was a piece of history.

“Sometimes,” Scott said, interrupting her thoughts, “you have to let go of the past.”

If he had said it in a negative or even practical tone, she might have bristled. But his words were quiet, as if they were unintentionally spoken aloud. As if he’d meant them for himself.

She glanced at his face. His cheeks and neck were red. The tips of his ears, visible under his close-cropped hair, were pink.

Interesting. What was in his past that made him color up?

“So what are we doing here?” Scott asked gruffly. The moment of vulnerability was clearly over and he wanted answers. But Evie wasn’t going to be rushed or bullied. He was on the clock at her park. On her time.

“We used to have family picnics under this tree,” she said softly, a part of her still unwilling to give up without a fight.

She had no idea why she was sharing that detail with a man whose next question was probably going to be whether they had a fire extinguisher in their picnic basket.

Scott leaned against the rough bark of the wide trunk, waiting for her decision.

Evie let out a long breath and turned her head from side to side, taking in a wide-angle view of the marina. Even with changes, some obvious, some subtle, Starlight Point was still her family’s history. Perhaps she would institute a family lunch with her siblings and her mom at least once a month at the new restaurant. Without a tree shading them, but still a meal together.

Sometimes Evie wished she could stop time and keep everything as it was, but at other times she could hardly wait to see her plans in action. The future of Starlight Point didn’t always mean sacrificing the past...but sometimes that had to happen.

“Since it stands in the way of progress,” she said, willing herself to be the practical columns-and-numbers person everyone thought she was, “I guess we cut it down.”

Mel Preston pulled up in his work truck and joined them under the tree. He studied Evie’s face and shoved his hands in his pockets. Rocking back on the heels of his work boots, he looked up at the spreading branches of the old cottonwood.

“Did you work out a way to keep this old tree?” Mel asked.

Scott crossed his arms and said nothing.

Evie could feel the tension between the two men, but that was silly. It’s just a tree.

She shook her head. “The tree has to go.” She swallowed. The sympathy in Mel’s eyes almost undid her resolve. Mel had been at Starlight Point a long time. He understood.

“Will you call the tree service and make arrangements today?” Evie asked.

Mel nodded. “I’m sorry, Evie. Ever since your father passed, your family has had to make one tough decision after another. But look how far you’ve come.”

Evie put a hand on Mel’s shoulder. “Thanks. Some decisions have been a lot easier than others. I keep reminding myself it’s just a tree.”

“I kissed your sister under this tree almost ten years ago,” Mel said.

Scott tucked his clipboard under his arm and stalked off. He entered the back door of the restaurant.

Evie laughed. “I guess he doesn’t want to hear about family memories or kissing. It’s all by the book for him.”

“Then I’d guess he isn’t having any fun,” Mel said.

Evie smiled at her brother-in-law. “You should take home some of the wood when we cut this tree down. You could make a bench for your front porch and kiss my sister on it the rest of your life.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“I’m full of ideas,” Evie said. “At least, I try to be. As soon as this project opens and starts putting money back into the bank account, I’ll know how much I can afford on my hotel renovation.”

“I thought you had the whole thing planned out?”

She nodded. “Parts of it. Most of it, I guess. But there’s a wish list. We came in slightly under budget on the docks and restaurant here, but I’m afraid renovating a century-old hotel is going to present surprises.”

Her construction superintendent had already warned her about the mysteries lurking in a hotel built when automobiles were a new invention. Was she making a huge mistake? Gambling on a possible payoff and a hopeful outcome just as her father had?

“First things first,” Mel said. “We’ve got two weeks until the July Fourth weekend, right?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll get this tree down, open up the fire lane and finish moving the wall that’s too close to the electrical panel. The signs in the restaurant got done last week.”

“Thanks, Mel. It’s nice to have the head of maintenance officially in the family.”

“You need all the friends you can get.”

Scott came out of the restaurant and balanced his clipboard on the hood of the fire department’s pickup truck.

“Should we go make nice?” Mel asked.

Evie shrugged. “We could ignore him so he’ll be more productive on the job. He’s on the clock.”

“Which makes it twice as irritating when he writes up violations while he’s on your payroll.”

“Maybe. But I’m still trying to stay on his good side because I need him to sign off on my hotel plans. And sooner rather than later.”

“What’s the rush?” Mel asked. He kept his voice low as they both watched Scott write up his notes.

Evie could guess what he was putting down. Inside that door, an electrical panel still sat too close to an interior wall. By only a few inches, but the inspector apparently considered it too close.

“There’s a tight time frame,” Evie explained. “Especially since we can never count on what kind of winter we’re going to have here. Remember last year?”

The marina project had faced numerous delays because of crippling snowstorms and record-breaking low temperatures. Windchills below zero and snow higher than the bumper of a truck made lousy conditions for working outside and staying on schedule. The hotel project was three times the size of the marina project, and weather-related delays could mean it would fail to open on time. And each day it was closed meant lost revenue. “Demo on the old wings has to start mid-August so we can prepare the ground and pour the concrete foundation before freezing weather slows us down. Even following the tight schedule Dan put together for us, we’ll barely make opening weekend next May.”

Scott turned his attention to the fire hydrant behind the restaurant and then propped his clipboard against the wall, making notes. Even though they were only fifteen feet away, he ignored Evie and Mel. When Mel made a low grunting sound like an angry animal, Evie laid a hand on his arm.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Evie said. “If we can work together, maybe we can get the restaurant open and start making money instead of losing it. And I think the gas lines for the docks are ready to open as soon as tomorrow if I get him to sign the permit.”

“Good luck,” Mel said. He got in his blue maintenance pickup and pulled onto the outer loop.

Evie walked over and leaned against the wall where Scott was still writing with a felt-tipped pen.

“Did you see the new fuel line valve?” she asked.

Scott nodded. Continued writing.

“I’m hoping you’ll sign the permit so we can start selling gas to boaters right away.”

“Signed it this morning,” he said without looking up.

Whew. Her relief was stronger than her irritation at his definite lack of people skills. She wasn’t asking him to dance. She needed his official blessing for her project—a project that would provide jobs for dozens of locals waiting to start work in the marina. She’d tried to put their skills to use in other areas of the resort but it still made for an unnecessary strain on payroll.

“And I’m sure you noticed the wall is being moved inside,” Evie added. Might as well get it all out there.

“Uh-huh.”

Fine. I’ll do all the talking. She really wanted to snatch his pen and his clipboard and toss them into the lake.

“I appreciate the very clear signage you installed in the restaurant,” she said. “If there’s ever a fire in there, I’m sure all our guests will find their way out.”

“That’s the idea.” Scott capped his pen, slid it into his chest pocket and tucked the clipboard under one arm. He looked at her, waiting.

At least he made eye contact. Was it courtesy? Was he only being remotely congenial because she was his boss? How she would love to test that theory by firing him. But she hated to do that to his sister, Caroline, who had apparently gotten all the friendly genes in the family.

Maybe now was the time to mention her next project and invite him to look at the plans early so there would be no surprises. Maybe they could be friends, not enemies.

She risked a glance at his face. A deep vertical line cut a groove between his eyebrows as if frowning was his natural expression. Perhaps not friends. Where was the slightly warmer version of Scott she’d seen as he shared lunch with his sister?

Clearly not evident while he was in Chief Inspector mode.

Still, it couldn’t hurt to plant a seed about her hotel plans. Evie opened her mouth to tell him she wanted to ask his advice on an upcoming project, but she didn’t get the chance. The radio on his hip beeped and Scott pulled it against his ear in one swift movement as if he’d done it a thousand times. His dark eyes remained on Evie as he listened.

“Dispatch to SP Fire. Possible MI, Space Race queue lines.”

Abruptly shifting his attention away from her, Scott raced to his truck, tossed his clipboard through the window, grabbed a large zippered bag and started running.

Evie took off after him, barely keeping pace as they headed for the park entrance at the marina gate. “What’s an MI?” she asked as she ran alongside.

“Heart attack,” Scott said. He keyed his radio and talked as he ran. Evie overheard him discussing whether or not to drive an ambulance onto the midway.

Heart attack. The same thing that had robbed her family of her father three years ago. She prayed the dispatcher was mistaken.

“The park is open,” she said, huffing out the words as she ran. “You can only do that if it’s life or death.”

“I’ll make that decision,” he said.

Evie was about to say something in response such as “I own the freaking park, maybe I’ll make the decision,” but Scott cut her a swift glance as he dashed past the summer employee at the gate.

“When we get there.”

Maybe he was right. That’s why she had him and the other firefighters on staff night and day.

Emotion raced through her as she ran with Scott past the bumper cars and through Kiddieland to the Space Race roller coaster. The coaster itself had been at Starlight Point for over twenty years and initially had enjoyed limited success. Too scary for little kids, not terrifying enough for teenagers or thrill-seekers. To make it more interesting, the ride had been enclosed about a decade ago. The coaster now had strobe lights and special effects, making it feel like a rocketing ride through the blackness of space.

Everything about the ride was dark. Even the queue lines snaking back and forth inside the large steel structure had limited light.

Scott reached the entrance to the ride first and paused to talk to the operator guarding the turnstile and checking the heights of hopeful kids. Evie saw the summer worker gesture inside and explain something to Scott. He raced ahead into the building and Evie followed, willing her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness.

Her breath came in jagged gasps, and she was glad she didn’t have to carry the large first-aid bag Scott had with him. She wondered what went through his mind on the way to an emergency.

They wound through the queue lines, bumping against the silver rails and jostling people. Evie wished someone had thought to turn on the emergency lighting. Searching in the dark in a crowded venue for a person having a heart attack was torture. Minutes could mean the difference between life and death. Why had no one turned on the lights?

She shouted to the worker at the door to hit the emergency lights, but it was noisy and the girl didn’t hear. Evie considered running back and doing it herself, but she didn’t want to leave Scott alone to face whatever they found. She squinted her eyes and tried to focus.

“Where is he?” Scott said aloud. “Fire department!” he shouted. “Anyone know who called us?”

A summer worker ran from the other direction and met them under a replica of a planet.

“I called it in,” the kid said. “A man was clutching his chest and gasping, his wife was crying. But they disappeared. I swear.”

Evie felt sorry for the teenager. He was clearly shocked by what he’d seen.

“Why didn’t you stay with them?” Scott growled. The employee shrank back, looking desperately around, holding up his phone with the flashlight app.

A little boy who appeared to be about ten stepped out of the line, tugged at Evie’s arm and pointed. “I know where they went,” he said. “I saw some people go through there.” He gestured toward an emergency exit that would open onto the beach side of the structure if her orientation wasn’t a complete disaster.

Without hesitation, Scott climbed over the silver rail and headed for the emergency exit. Evie stayed right behind him, clambering through the waiting guests, cell phone in hand, wishing she knew what awaited them on the other side of the door.

Scott burst outside with Evie at his heels. The bright sunshine reflecting off the sand and water blinded them temporarily. Scott was the first to recover. He whirled and dropped to his knees next to the man on the ground.

Evie gasped. The man was about fifty years old. Overweight but not obese. Ghastly gray. Sweating. Clutching his chest. A woman sat on the ground next to him, sobbing. Two pre-teen children stood behind their mother, their faces tearstained and panicked.

Scott zipped open his bag and pulled out oxygen tubing. He turned briefly and handed his radio to Evie. “Call it in, give our exact location and get me an ambulance. Now.”

She dropped her cell phone and took the radio. With trembling fingers, she pressed the button on the side. In all her years at Starlight Point, she’d never had to use a radio in an emergency.

“Dispatch, this is Evie Hamilton.”

“Go ahead, Evie,” a woman said. Evie knew the voice. Louise Higgins had worked dispatch at Starlight Point for years. There was curiosity in her familiar voice.

“I need an ambulance on the beach side of the Space Race.”

“Is this the same call, the possible MI?” the dispatcher asked.

“Yes. Definitely an MI. Beach side emergency exit. Space Race.” Repeating the exact location made her feel better. As if it could bring help faster.

And they needed it.

The man was apologizing, clutching the hands of his wife and kids and telling them he was sorry for every unkind word he’d ever said.

He clearly believed he was dying.

“Tell them to drive the ambulance right down the midway,” Evie told the dispatcher. “Whatever it takes.”