The zoning board chair was on his phone, but a couple of committee members appeared to be paying attention.
“I’m a beekeeper here in town, and I see firsthand what’s happening to our pollinators. They’re stressed by pesticides and acres of manicured lawns, which are an environmental desert. There’s good healthy forage for bees and other pollinators on that property. If we don’t save this piece of pristine land, what does that say for our future? Not just for us here in Laurelton, but the bigger picture? That we’re so concerned about property values we’re unwilling to say no to one luxury development? What message does that send to our kids and our grandkids?”
He risked a glance at the audience. Several people were nodding. “This is bigger than twenty acres,” he plowed on. “It’s who we want to be as a society. What kind of world we want to leave for our kids.” Embarrassingly, his voice caught. “We won’t get another chance here. I’m asking you to do the right thing.”
He stopped, stunned he’d said all that, that it had just poured out of him. “That’s all I have to say.” Scattered applause greeted him as he made his way back to his seat, but when he got to his row he kept going. He was too keyed up to sit, especially next to that Wall Street asshole.
“Nice job,” a woman said when he reached the back of the room. “Very heartfelt.”
He turned to look, still buzzing with adrenaline. Cassie. The Linden woman.
“Oh hey.” He felt disoriented seeing her here. “I…uh didn’t know you were coming.”
“I wanted to see what’s going on since it’s right next door.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “You made some good points.”
“I couldn’t tell what they thought.” His hands were sweaty, but he didn’t want to wipe them on his pants in front of her.
“I saw those bees when I was out for a run the other day. Didn’t know they were yours.” The next speaker had started, so they edged closer to the door. “How do you think they’ll vote?” she said.
“Hard to say. A couple of them might have been leaning against it, but Weber was persuasive. I’m sure they like his grand vision. And it’s tough to vote against growing the tax base.”
She smiled. “For what it’s worth, you were persuasive too.”
She was wearing jeans and a gray sweater that fit just right, and he didn’t quite know where to look. “I never do this kind of thing. Honestly, I was nervous as hell.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“How’s your dad’s ankle?” he said to change the subject. “Did you take him for an X-ray?”
“Luckily just a sprain. Could have been worse.” She smiled ruefully. “Things can always be worse, right?”
He relaxed fractionally. She had that right. “Is he ready for me to give him a call?”
“It’s easier if you just stop by. Mornings are best. He’s sharper then.” She hiked a shoulder. “Although sharper is a relative term. You saw him the other day, that’s about as good as it gets.”
“Will he uh remember what happened?” He didn’t know exactly what the diagnosis was, but Mr. Linden clearly had memory issues. Cassie had said she was only staying a few days, but here it was going on a week. She hadn’t mentioned what she did, but he pegged her for something professional. The way she carried herself. Although he didn’t detect a big ego. There was something careful about her, a little dented, like maybe life hadn’t turned out exactly the way she wanted either.
“Oh yeah, he’ll remember. He’s got his foot in a boot to remind him. I told him I was going grocery shopping tonight, otherwise he would have wanted to come. I didn’t think that was such a good idea with his ankle and all.”
“So do you have to pick up groceries now?”
She laughed. Away from her dad and all the bee drama, she was easy to talk to.
“I suppose I should. Sometimes he surprises me with what he remembers and other times…” Her voice trailed off in a dispirited way.
Glenn felt a pinch of anxiety, like when he said the wrong thing with Lilah. Which was pretty much all the time. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of it, his situation.”
“It’s fine. If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry. We lost my mom to Alzheimer’s, but I never thought it would happen to my dad. He was always the one in control. I don’t know if it’s Alzheimer’s but you know, dementia. It’s hard to see.”
His phone buzzed but he ignored it. He didn’t want to be rude when she’d just shared something so personal. “I’m sorry about your dad, I mean the dementia and all.” He didn’t know what else to say. She was open in a way he wasn’t used to. Sophie had never lifted the lid on what she was feeling. When he was in college, the mystery excited him. A beautiful woman, the tantalizing possibility of unseen depths. He spent years trying to fathom her, tease out what she was withholding, but eventuallyrealized what he’d mistaken for introspection was just self-absorption. It was always about her.
“Isn’t there some kind of medication to slow it down?”
“Not really, and he’s still at the point where he doesn’t want to admit he has a problem. He’s still sharp enough to give me a hard time. That hasn’t changed.”
When his phone buzzed again he looked at it.
Sophie.His stomach tightened. What the hell did she want? He shoved the phone back in his pocket. She only ever called when she wanted something. It couldn’t be good.
