ChapterSix
Landon awoke to a house full of sick kids a few days after he’d spotted Celia Harper crossing the street with the rest of the Harper sisters.Being a single father meant experiencing this “luxury” every now and again, he supposed, but that didn’t mean he was ever ready for it.Red-faced Mallory limped through the kitchen, coughing into her elbow, and Isaac put his hands on either side of the sink and sneezed over and over.Their temperatures were slightly above normal, and the television was already on, playing their current favorite comfort film,The Mummy.Landon thought it was funny that they’d discovered it because he and Celia had watched that film together years ago.The year 1999 felt like a thousand lifetimes before this one.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” Landon announced to his kids.
“Yay,” Mallory said, then coughed.
Landon, his to-do list a mile long for the day, burst into action, calling the combined middle and high school to tell them his kids couldn’t be in.“Sick again.It’s the last month of the school year.We almost made it,” he said to Mrs.Windon, who worked at the front desk.
“Something is going around,” Mrs.Windon said.“Tell your kids to get better.They’re two of our best students!We need them back.”
Landon stood behind the sofa, watching his children as they rested before the splendorous Egyptian adventure of Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz.In a half hour, he had an essential appointment at the records’ office, one he had no plans to miss, as it was time-sensitive and a matter of high importance.It was for the future of Bluebell Cove.It was for my children, for my children’s children.But he hated leaving.
“Do you guys mind if I have Mrs.Marsh come check on you this morning?”he asked timidly, worried about leaving his children on their own.It wasn’t unheard of, not now that they were teenagers, and Mrs.Marsh was a trusted neighbor who used to work as the high school nurse.Besides, a part of him always worried that they were faking their illnesses to get away with something teenager-esque: sneaking out, drinking beers, or watching things they shouldn’t be on the internet.They were good kids, but he’d been a good kid, too, and he’d gotten away with whatever he could.So had Celia.
Mallory turned to blink at him with tired and pink-lined eyes.“You’re leaving?”She sounded so pathetic, so exhausted, that Landon felt a tug on his heartstrings.
“I’ll be back in two hours tops,” he told them.“Mrs.Marsh will come by in an hour, all right?And you can call me if you need anything.Anything at all.”
“Go!Save yourself!”Isaac croaked.
Landon chuckled and kissed his children on their foreheads, conscious that at any time, their illnesses could be transmitted straight to him.He didn’t have time for that.
Landon set out for city hall with a long stride, his chin raised as he took in the bright May morning.It was remarkable how different the weather felt when the sun came out.Since Celia’s surprise appearance, nights in Bluebell Cove had seemed ominous, with thrashing winds and boiling thunder.He wondered if Celia was still in town and what she’d spoken to her sisters about.He questioned when they’d divide up the Bluebell Cove Inn and wash their hands of this place completely.He’d given up on the idea of speaking to her again, but it still felt strange that she was here.Everything felt elevated.
But at the crosswalk, he felt a bright jolt of anger, one that surprised him.She left me behind.She didn’t bother to keep in touch; she threw me away.Shouldn’t I hate her?But he swallowed it down, reminding himself that he and Celia had been only a little bit older than Isaac back then.And Isaac, no offense to him, wasn’t exactly the most reliable of humans.No teenager was.
It was beneath city hall itself that Bluebell Cove kept its records: birth and death, bills of sale, proof of weddings and divorces, and so on.Due to his busy schedule at the lab and his lack of need for it, Landon hadn’t spent much time in the records office.But a year or two ago, a friend of a friend had needed to hunt down a few birth records for immigration purposes and had told a funny story about it.“The woman who works down there has no interest in helping you unless you help her first,” he’d said.“She’s the laziest and the most gossip-driven person I’ve ever met.”He’d then hinted that she liked sweet things, cookies, chocolates, and gingerbreads, if it was seasonally appropriate to give them out.This hadn’t boggled Landon’s mind in the least.The woman in the records’ office was a city worker, sure, but she was a city worker in Bluebell Cove, which meant she could make up the rules however she pleased.Their world was not like any other.It was quirky.Chocolate was sometimes a medium for bribery.
Landon stopped at the little drug store near city hall for a package of chocolate fudge, then ducked into city hall itself, saying hello to the security guard, who’d gone to high school with Landon and Celia and had once had such awful breath that people had offered him cinnamon gum nearly every day.“Good to see you, Calvin,” Landon said, rushing past him and down the steps to the records’ office.
The records’ office was a long, slender room lined with shelves with little windows that peeked out onto Main Street and brought in soft swells of light.Melody Graham, the chocolate-loving records officer, sat at the front desk, peering at him through crescent-shaped glasses, grimacing.She was in her fifties, maybe ten years older than Landon, although Landon was vaguely sure he’d never met her before.He gave her his most handsome grin.“Good morning,” he said.“How are you?”
Melody arched her eyebrow.“Too busy for small talk, to be honest with you,” she told him.
Landon wanted to laugh at how rude she was.In a town like Bluebell, that was practically unheard of.What a character!he thought.It pleased him, although he hoped she would play along with his game.
“I know what you mean,” he said, gripping the box of chocolate fudge with both hands.She eyed it, removing her glasses.“I need a favor,” he said.“And then I’ll be out of your hair.You won’t even know I’m here!”
“What do you have there?”Melody asked.
“Have you ever had these?”Landon felt ridiculous, overselling a box of chocolates from a drug store.“They’re excellent.I bought them for my girlfriend.”Landon hadn’t had a girlfriend since before he’d asked his wife to marry him and wondered how true it sounded.
“Did you?”Melody stood and crossed her arms.Her eyes looked heavy with desire—for the chocolate, not for him.Landon knew the difference.
“But I’d be happy to share them,” Landon said.“Again, I’m in a rush.”
Melody raised her eyebrow to indicate she was listening.
It took Landon thirty seconds flat to illustrate what he needed: a bill of sale for the property surrounding the cove.He needed to know who had purchased the beach, the cliffside, and the surrounding forest, and who was profiting from that remarkable and hallowed space.Who planned to destroy the delicate ecosystem of Bluebell Cove and put it at the mercy of hundreds of thousands of new tourists?
With the chocolate fudge in her hand, Melody led him to the recent bills of sales, poked through the folders, and removed the relevant one.It was fresh and crisp.He thanked her, and she waved her hand and returned to her desk, leaving him between the bookshelves.His hands shook as he opened the folder and read the name: HANSON SMITH.His blood ran cold.
Hanson Smith was the father of Addison Smith, the multimillionaire who owned much of Bluebell Cove and its surroundings.Maybe Landon should have guessed that Hanson was the sinister vehicle behind this sale.Up in his ivory tower, so to speak, it wasn’t like Hanson cared a lick about any of the other Bluebell Cove residents.He’d always had his own private beaches, his own glorious vistas, his own sunrise and sunset, none of which he’d had to share.Isaac himself had enjoyed the luxuries of the Smiths’ typical life.It was part of the reason Landon didn’t want Isaac spending so much time with Addison.Number one, Hanson was evil.But number two, he didn’t want Isaac to think his life with Landon and Mallory was lackluster or “poor” (although maybe it was; that couldn’t be helped).
Perhaps because Landon was taking too much time with the file, Melody appeared beside him, chewing through another block of fudge.There was a little stain on her bottom lip.“Did you look behind the bill of sale?”she asked.
Landon was surprised that she wanted to help him even more.Maybe the chocolate fudge was better than he’d expected.He flipped through the folder and discovered what appeared to be drawings of the luxury resort's plans.There was proof of what his mother had told him, proof that the microbiome of his wonderful home would soon be destroyed to make way for—this.It was true that it was architecturally sensational, that it would offer the very best views of the Atlantic, and the crème de la crème of vacationers would come to Bluebell Cove.But it was also true that this luxury resort would destroy forests and oceans, drive up costs in the area, and probably send people like Landon, Isaac, and Mallory packing to cheaper towns.I’ll lose my home, he thought, suddenly panicking.Besides his college town, it was the only home he’d ever known.It was where his children had been born.It was where his wife had died.I can’t let this happen, he thought.
