“She says he’s gifted, and that’s saying a lot. She has an amazing way of food. She says he comes up with solutions when she’s stumped and has been key in finding local vendors.”
“He takes after his mother more than me,” Keith said. Keith’s wife had died several years ago, but it touched Libby deeply to see how Keith honored and remembered her.
Her warmth was visible in him and in their sons. Wherever she and Keith were headed, as friends or as partners, she was grateful to Keith’s wife. Libby believed she’d made him a better man, and left his life with more to give, instead of depleted. Libby wished she’d have known her.
She hugged Keith. His presence, J.J.’s, and her aunt’s all helped her remember that it was the people here that inspired her to fight for the place.
“Okay, show time. I think that’s them.”
Libby took a deep breath.
“Relax, Irish Hills practically sells itself.”
“Yeah, well, it sure did to Stirling Stone.”
A man and woman got out of a rented SUV. They two committee members had volunteered to spend their holiday traveling around, visiting Covert Pier and Irish Hills.
“Welcome to Irish Hills.”
“Libby, so great to meet you in person. I’m Nancy Benner and this is Martin Hoskins.”
They shook hands, and Libby introduced them to Keith.
“This is Keith Brady. He owns Steve’s Marina.”
“Not Keith’s Marina?”
“Bought it when Steve retired, didn’t want to print new t-shirts.” Keith wore his work uniform, a vintage Steve’s Marina t-shirt, and shorts.
“Makes sense.”
As planned, Keith captained his boat, and Libby narrated a tour of Lake Manitou and the connected Round Lake.
She pointed out the history, the homes, the row of vintage cottages, the old hotel, now shuttered, and explained the plans underway to restore, not bulldoze the unique homes.
The lake was packed with skiers, boaters, and every type of watercraft you could imagine.
As Keith said, this part of the tour sold itself. They spent about an hour on the lake, which didn’t disappoint. It was beautiful and vibrant, and Libby’s only regret was not telling the committee to bring bathing suits so they could jump in for a swim.
Libby thanked Keith for the boat ride, and now, on to phase two of her tour, Downtown Irish Hills. She would have to make the development plans she’d shared with them in emails and renderings come to life.
The lake was the easy part. People loved Lake Manitou, Round Lake, Loch Erin, Wampler’s, and Vineyard. They were coming in larger numbers to the fifty-plus lakes that surrounded Irish Hills.
But there wasn’t much to do in Irish Hills proper. That was her challenge. In fact, the town hadn’t been able to recover from the 1989 tornado that leveled so much of it. The rest of the area towns had moved on. Irish Hills had not.
Libby was there to prove they could and should.
Libby had taken the sides and hardtop off her Jeep Wrangler. It was a beautiful day for the open-air ride, and Libby wanted to be sure to take advantage of it.
They drove into town, and Libby pointed out the renovations at the local gas station, courtesy of her old friend, Reginald Bellamy. He’d come through when she needed him, in a big way.
They rolled by the town square, which Dean Tucker had beautifully restored. Libby didn’t say a word, but Nancy Benner, an expert in the beautification of public spaces, noticed the flowers planted in the square.
That was all Aunt Emma and her Floral Beautification Committee. While Libby negotiated with contractors and sweated over the business plans, Aunt Emma had harnessed the men and women of her retirement home to plant flowers almost everywhere. They’d added huge potted arrangements every twenty feet along the sidewalk, and she’d convinced Jared Pawlak to help her hang baskets on the newly installed light posts.
They were details that Libby didn’t have time for, literally, and as she drove into town, it nearly made her cry with joy. There was still so much undone, so many plans unfinished, but darn if Aunt Emma’s flowers didn’t make everything look gorgeous.
Libby swallowed and worked to restore her professional sales pitch demeanor to the committee members.
