Wishing on Willows: A Novel (19 page)

“I never said the mayor.”

“Oh, right.” He rocked back on his heels and stuck his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans. “To answer your question, my shadow—”

She shot him a look.

“Excuse me. The
mayor
is right over there, if that’s who you meant.”

Robin followed the direction of his nod and spotted Mayor Ford with his wife. The pair conversed with Roy Hodges, her banker. Not more than two feet to their left, Amanda, Bethany, and a baby-toting Evan stood in a small group—sans Loraine and Jim, sans Dad and Donna, all of whom had flown home earlier in the morning.

“Amanda looks nice today,” Ian said.

She narrowed her eyes.

He opened his wide. “What?”

“Amanda’s been through the ringer these past couple of months.”

“And?”

“She’s easily enamored. I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

He held up his hands, showing her his palms.

The door of the porta-potty opened. Caleb stepped out, a corner of his
T-shirt tucked inside the band of his Spider-Man underwear, his shorts twisted. “See, Mommy, I told you I could do it by myself.”

Robin shuffled him to the side, away from the line, then untucked his shirt and straightened his shorts. She dug in her purse for a small bottle of hand sanitizer and found it hiding beneath a stack of flyers and coupons. She took out the bottle and the flyers and squirted a dollop of sanitizer into Caleb’s hands.

“What are those?” Ian asked, nodding at the stack of colorful papers.

Robin tossed the sanitizer in her purse. She’d been praying last night when the idea popped into her head. If she wanted to save Willow Tree and One Life, she had to be proactive about it.

Caleb grabbed Robin’s hand. “Can we go jump now? Please?”

“How about you help me pass these out first?” She handed one of the flyers to Caleb.

He thrust it at Ian, then grabbed Robin’s hand with both of his and tugged her toward the bounce house. “C’mon, Mommy. Let’s go.”

She dug her heels into the ground while Ian scanned the advertisement and held up the paper. “Am I allowed to use this?”

She plucked it out of his fingers. “You most certainly are not. These are only for people who don’t wish ill will on my café.”

“I wish no such thing.”

“You want to tear it down.”

“I’m just doing my job.” Ian tucked his hands in his pockets. “Are you sure handing out free coffee is going to help your predicament?”

“Of course it will.”

“Come”—tug—“on”—tug, tug.

“Caleb, honey, I’m talking right now. You need to be patient.” She kept a firm grasp on her son’s hand and addressed the man standing in front of her. “It’s Business 101. Get customers in the door by offering them a freebie, wow them with said freebie, and they’ll come back for more. The more people who support Willow Tree, the less inclined Mayor Ford will be to proceed with these plans of his.”

“Uh-oh, Robin’s not talking business, is she?” Amanda folded her arms
over Caleb’s chest and attacked his ribs. He let go of Robin, giggling and squirming until Amanda stopped. She put her hands on Caleb’s shoulders and examined Robin’s flyer. “All your late-night work paid off. They look nice.”

“Hopefully next month’s profit and loss report will look nice too.” Robin peered at Ian, searching for signs, for cracks that she was getting to him. He only raised his eyebrow at her stare-down. She looked away and found Mayor Ford and Elaine approaching.

“Good afternoon Robin. Amanda.” The sun glinted off the mayor’s bald head. “There’s some people over there I’d love to introduce you to, Ian.”

“Care to join us?” Ian asked.

Was he nuts? Join Ian and Mayor Ford while they schmoozed with the town commissioners and council members? “I think I’ll pass.”

He shrugged, then held out his elbow to Amanda.

Robin’s heart pounded. Surely her sister-in-law would take his proffered arm and Ian would smile that irritating smile and the pair would walk off without her. But Amanda didn’t move. “Thanks, but I promised this little squirt I’d watch him jump in that blow-up contraption over there.”

“Maybe some other time, then. Hey, good luck with those coupons.” Ian winked and walked away.

Robin glared after him.

“Will you admit it now?” Amanda asked.

“Admit what?”

“You have a crush on Ian.”

Robin huffed. “Believe me. I do not have a crush on Ian.”

“Fine, then. The next time he asks me to join him, I’m not going to say no.”

“Do whatever you want. I don’t care.” But as they headed to the bounce house, she knew that some part of her did care. The question was—why?

Ian took a bite of his sandwich and tried to reel in his waning attention. How many people had Mayor Ford introduced already? Ten? Fifteen? As
hard as he tried to concentrate on the conversation and the people in front of him, his attention kept returning to Robin passing out those ridiculous flyers while her son had a field day in the bounce house. The kid was going to knock somebody out with that cast.

The woman with the contagious laugh and the fiery eyes was the belle of the fish fry. And no wonder. She radiated so much warmth when she talked with people—a trait she must have inherited from her mother—that even Ian wanted to stand closer. He watched as Robin laughed and talked with an older man. She had him sign something and they shared a friendly hug before he strolled toward the dunk tank. The fried cod lost its flavor in Ian’s mouth. It wasn’t the first signature she’d collected. He wanted to know what she was up to. As if sensing his stare, Robin glanced in his direction—the third time in the span of ten minutes. When their eyes met, she didn’t look away. She stared back with a look of proud defiance on her face. He forced himself to swallow the seafood while somebody new joined their group.

“Ian, this is John Broughton, editor-in-chief of the
Peaks Gazette
.”

“A journalist, huh?” Ian shook hands with the stocky man in front of him.

“John here practically writes the whole paper,” Mayor Ford said. “He’s on the front page of every single issue, and he’s got a knack for making me look good, which means we get along well.”

“You make yourself look good.” John crooked his thumb at the mayor. “Not something you can say about many politicians these days.”

Ian looked at Robin through the mass of people. She spoke with three ladies who clutched coupons in their hands. “Are you searching for stories to run this week?”

John pulled a small recording device from his back pocket. “I’m always looking for stories. Why? You have one for me?”

“Has the mayor mentioned the topic of discussion for the town meeting this Thursday?”

“I’ve heard talk.”

“Would you care to discuss it somewhere a little less noisy?”

John swept his arm in front of him, an invitation to lead the way. Ian led him to a clutter of picnic tables crammed beneath a tent, Robin’s stare following them the entire way. Ian eased onto one of the benches. John sat across from him and held up his recorder. “You mind?”

“Not at all.”

He pushed the record button and set the device between them. “So what’s this business about condominiums? I’ve heard some whispers, but it’s all pretty nebulous right now.”

“I’m hoping this article will clear things up and spread the word about the upcoming town meeting.”

“What’s the word?”

“McKay Development and Construction—my father’s company—is in the process of acquiring a site for condominiums the mayor wants built in Peaks.”

“So that’s what the meeting will address?”

“The mayor needs the town’s approval before he can add the condominiums to the development plan for the downtown area.”

“Does Mayor Ford foresee a problem?”

“Potentially.” Ian steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “The site we need to acquire is on the south end of the business district. Two of the businesses have already agreed to sell, but the other is not being as cooperative. The owner is making things a little tricky.”

John’s eyes sparked. The man seemed to like
tricky
. “Who’s the owner?”

“Me,” Robin said.

John turned before Ian did. Ian had seen her approaching from the corner of his eye ever since John hit the record button. “Good afternoon, John,” she said.

The journalist turned off the recording device. “This other building is yours?”

“You two know each other?” Ian asked.

“John wrote a story on my café when it first opened. A very well-written piece about what a fine establishment it was. About how it added to the
cozy, family-feel of this town.” Robin crossed her arms and eyed the recorder. “What story are you writing now?”

“Ian is telling me about these condominiums.”

“His version is very lopsided,” she said.

“Tell me your version, then. I could run a parallel story. Your take versus his take, give the town all the facts, and see who wins. News has been pretty dry around here lately. I think we’re all getting sick of reading about this recession.” John pressed record and looked at Robin. “What do you say?”

She bit her lip.

“I’m game if you’re game,” Ian said, nodding at her clipboard. “What do you have there?”

“A petition to save One Life. There are many in this town who depend on the ministry and even more who support its mission. They aren’t going to want to see it shut down. And they’re not going to want to see Peaks overrun by a bunch of Fixtel employees, either.”

Ian smiled. He couldn’t help it. Robin was cute when she was heated. “You have something against these employees?”

“I don’t have anything against them, but they aren’t Peaks. I don’t want to see the character of this town change and I especially don’t want to see people who depend on One Life shoved aside in the process. Neither do these individuals.” She held the petition up higher. There were more signatures than he wanted to see.

“This is good.” John moved the recorder closer to Robin. “What else?”

“The sale of Sybil’s is contingent upon the sale of Willow Tree. Which means if I sell, One Life loses their space.”

“How about apart from One Life? Why should Willow Tree Café matter to Peaks?”

John’s question seemed to stump her. She continued her lip-nibbling and glanced over her shoulder at Caleb and Amanda. “My café is a place of community. We have church functions there. It hosts the PTA fund-raiser at the end of every school year. We had the meet and greet for Kyle last weekend.”

“Couldn’t they hold those events somewhere else?” Ian asked. “Like the place I saw on the north end of town. Shorney’s Terrace?”

Her forehead knotted and she twisted her wedding ring. As if so many spins would wind her up with more arguments. When none seemed to come, she closed her eyes for a moment longer than normal and expelled a long breath. “Remember last year, John? When we were afraid the river was going to flood again? Where do you think everyone came for a hot cup of coffee and a treat in the middle of all that sandbagging? Willow Tree is an important part of this town. It’s the place mothers come to relax and catch up with girlfriends while their children play in the kids’ corner. You can step inside my café and enjoy the food and the music and the atmosphere and somehow, life doesn’t feel so crazy anymore.” She paused and looked down at her petition. “I know I can’t offer much in the way of tax revenue or boosting the town’s economy, but Willow Tree Café represents what so many people love about this town. It would be a shame to see it go.”

John waited, as if to make sure Robin had finished her speech, then scooted the recorder toward Ian.

He removed his chin from his knuckles. “So basically, your café represents the old, and my condominiums represent the new. I think we can agree that the old isn’t working out so well.”

The faintest of breaths toppled from her parted lips.

His chest tightened, but he forced himself to bat away the guilt and focus on the jobs he was saving. Dad had enough to worry about with Mom. He didn’t need the added burden of laying off a bunch of employees. “Your speech was nice, but if what you’re saying is true, if Willow Tree represents what people love about Peaks, then I have to say, not many people love this town. You don’t seem to have very many customers.”

She winced.

He squished his tongue against the roof of his mouth and refused to apologize. The quicker he could get her to surrender, the quicker he could stop hurting her. “I admire your passion, Robin, but Peaks needs revenue, not coffee.”

She pulled back her shoulders, her lips thinning into a thin, straight
line. “I guess we’ll see what Peaks needs on Thursday.” And with that, she spun around and stalked away.

John sighed. “It’s really too bad.”

“What?”

“All of it. That her café is struggling and the spot you want to build is the place where Willow Tree is located.” John pocketed his recorder. “Like Robin said, I wrote that article when her place opened. It did okay the first year. Sort of a novelty, you know? But the novelty wore off and the economy got worse. Still, she kept it going. I’ve never met a woman so passionate about something.”

The familiar pull returned, stronger this time. “What is it about that place?”