The tang of saltwater in the air and the slight breeze tickle my nose as I approach a faded teal cottage with a white wooden porch surrounded by lattice.
I spot Mrs. Reilly sitting outside gazing out at the water, as if waiting for a boat to come along. As I approach, her focus shifts, as if returning from somewhere far away.
“Hello, dear. What brings you by?”
I’m not ready to tell her the real reason for my visit yet. I hold up a bag from the bakery. “I brought your favorite.”
She hops up from her chair. “Oh goody. Let me put on a pot of tea. Come on in.”
As I take my seat at the table in her kitchen area, I notice the current novel she’s reading. Since her back is turned, she can’t see my silent brow arch and grin. It’s a spicy-looking romance with a hot guy on the cover.Go ahead, girl!This one is vastly different from the covers I see when she’s reading and having tea in Seaside Sweets. There, she’s usually got her nose in a cozy mystery.
Mrs. Reilly brings over two dainty cups of steaming Irish tea, followed by plates for the muffins. Sweetener and Irish butter are already on the table.
“I haven’t seen you in town lately. Is everything alright?”
She replies with a smile. “Yes, child. I’m fine. Since you showed me how to use that instant cart thingy on my phone, I haven’t had to go shopping. I just press some buttons and my groceries appear on the front porch like magic!”
I can’t help but smile at her characterization of the shopping app. “I’m glad it’s helpful.”
“Now if I could just figure out how to get Julie’s blueberry muffins delivered…”
“I’m sure that can be arranged. I’ll talk to her the next time I see her.”
She reaches across the table and pats my hand. “You’re so good to me, Desirae. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“It’s my pleasure. You remind me so much of my Nana.”
“And you’re like the granddaughter I always longed for and never had.” Again, she looks off in the distance as if thinking about a time long ago.
I raise the teacup to my lips and blow gently to cool the hot beverage before taking a sip, hoping to find the right words to tell Mrs. Reilly about the threat to her building.
“Have you heard about all the changes around town? I think someone’s in the process of buying Mrs. Waverly’s flower shop, and there are some new businesses opening up in the harbor district.”
“That’s wonderful. We could use some sprucing up. As long as we don’t lose the small coastal town charm that’s always characterized Pelican Point.”
And that’s my opening.“This morning, I heard someone’s interested in acquiring the Reilly building.”
Mrs. Reilly wrinkles her brow in confusion. “Why would anyone be interested in it?”
I take a deep breath before continuing. “A developer plans to create an upscale and modern tourist area downtown. He wants to tear down the building in the process.”
“And what do you think about that, dear?”
I close my eyes to try to keep the tears at bay. “That building is living history. It’s your legacy. I don’t think anyone should destroy that.”
“Now, now, child. I’m the last living Reilly. And once I’m gone, it won’t matter. My legacy and history are right in here.” She pats her heart. “So don’t you worryabout me. What I want to know is howyoufeel about it. As far as I’m concerned, it belongs to you now.”
“The moment I laid eyes on that building, I knew it was the perfect home for my store. It’s been all I ever dreamed of and more. It can’t be replaced. Certainly not by some cold, modern structure. What if the developer offers to buy out my mortgage from you for much more than it’s worth?”
“At my age, I don’t need the money. There’s no reason for me to entertain such an offer. And certainly not for it to be torn down. So there you have it. The Reilly building is not for sale. And never will be as long as I’m drawing breath.”
The pool is my sanctuary. It doesn’t judge me; it doesn’t care about my size, shape, or color. I’ve been swimming for as long as I can remember. When I swim, I am in command. I can control how fast or slow I go, which stroke I use, and how long I stay in the pool. People are surprised to learn that I can still outswim most women my age, and many men, averaging just under two miles in an hour, despite my size. Sometimes, I’ll go at a slower pace, putting my body on auto-pilot, so that I can gather my thoughts, calm my nerves, plan my next dress project, or just be…. But today, my focus is on the threat to my livelihood.Stone Anginelli.
Despite Mrs. Reilly’s insistence that she wouldn’t sell the mortgage, some developers will go to any means to acquire a prime location, especially when they thinkthey can take advantage of a vulnerable person. I can’t let that happen to her. I’m not going down without a fight. After finishing my laps, I exit the pool with a steely resolve. I’m going to confront this issue head on. Which means I’m making a trip south to West Palm.
Thirty minutes later, I exit my second floor condo and head for the elevator. As the doors slide open, out comes my neighbor, Regina, a sweet older woman about the same age as my mother.
“Hello, Desirae. You look marvelous, as always. Are you on your way someplace special?”
