Page 6 of The Marine's Homecoming

The tiny town hall is packed, standing room only, as I make my way toward the podium. The whole place is probably suited for no more than fifty people, tops, and there have got to be over a hundred here in attendance. Thankfully, in my capacity as a town council member, I have a reserved seat and a direct line from my chair to the mic, which I adjust as I position myself and my papers in front of me.

So far tonight, we've been over the zoning issue for the new liquor store that wants to move in, and the location they selected is on the edge of what is deemed legal—too close to a school. And we've voted on the measure to increase spending for our local parks, placing a levy on the ballot for the spring to allow voters to choose to donate funds toward beautification and restoration of public property.

Now it's time to bring up the festival, and I'm sweating bullets. Mayor Evelyn Grant nods at me as people start to quiet down after the rousing debate about why they have to pay more taxes to improve parks. I'm not sure I want to follow on the heels of that, but I don't have a choice.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I start, plastering a fake smile on my face, which I've mastered over the past twelve months of holding this position. "Thank you for your honest thoughts on the beautification of Bandon efforts. It's time to turn our attention to a new inquiry which I, myself, bring to you."

Looking out over this crowd, I can tell it's going to be mixed results. If I have to come back to them next month with the idea of taxpayer funding or ticket prices to offset the cost, it'll flop for sure. But I've been over the math a hundred times. It's cheaper to repair those piers and host at the marina and shore than it'll be to lock in any other plot of land. And if we can only get one or two more benefactors, nothing will be required from the public at all but to show up and enjoy.

"As you all know, the past several years have been hard on the economy here in Bandon." I pause to let it settle and then suck in a breath and keep going. "With the pandemic affecting our local tourism, and before that personal and small business losses that caused a few businesses to close down, we've lost jobs, found tourism failing, and worse, we've suffered a decreased population."

My hands are sweaty and my face hurts from smiling. I've had to speak in front of people so many times I should be a pro, but I'm nervous about this because of what it means to me. This festival isn’t just about rousing the local economy. It's a personal reset, a victory point for my life if I can manage to stir the life back into what was lost when my brother died and my parents shrank to a shell of who they were.

"I propose a solution to you tonight that will potentially help us turn the tide on those recessions." My heart is hammering as I stare out over the crowd, not even a little surprised that Luke Maddox isn't in attendance. He never did give a damn aboutpolitics. "I have put a lot of thought into how to boost our economy, bring back jobs, make Bandon a place where tourists want to come, and draw new families to our dying little town." I smile at them broadly as I say, "I want to host a festival on the Fourth of July, right here in Bandon, and I'd like to host it at the marina, along the shore—the heart of all of our tourism."

A low murmur of voices rattles through the crowd, though it's not time for anyone to speak on this measure yet. At this point, we don't even need to put it up for a vote if we can get support and funding in a meeting. This is more of a polite introduction to the topic in case the need for public funding arises. Mostly, I just have to have town council approval, which is why Evelyn advised me to speak on it tonight.

But a single hand rises in the air and a woman I don't expect to have an issue stands up and crosses her arms over her chest, lifting both eyebrows. "Well, that's all well and good, Ms. Brooks, but has Mr. Maddox approved this little festival?"

A few people chime in their interest in the answer with a chorus of grunts and murmurs, and my fingers wrap around the edge of the podium in frustration as my eyes fall to the documents outlining budgeting needs and potential ways to raise funds. I blink a few times, making myself not think about how rude Luke was when he flat-out rejected the idea, and paste the plastic smile back on my lips as I look back up at the crowd.

"Frank agreed to have the festival, and?—"

"I'm talking about theotherMr. Maddox."

This town dislikes Luke Maddox just as much as I do—or they should. The fact that one of our own was killed recklessly at his hand has stained the very fabric of our society, and we shouldn’tsit back wondering whether something that can benefit the whole town would be okay. Luke will just have to fall in line.

I clear my throat and say, "I've spoken with Mr. Maddox, and we are in discussions about it." My temperature is rising, and I'm not sure how to move forward if people like Hattie are going to stomp on the idea before I even get the word out. I definitely can't follow up with, "but hey, we need more money from you all," after that tax debate debacle.

"I think it's a lovely idea, Hannah," Mayor Grant says into her private mic. "What are we looking at as far as budget?"

Hattie must get the point because she sits back down and purses her lips. Somehow, I get the feeling that the only reason she's so protective over Luke is due to Frank. Everyone who frequents the Wheelhouse loved Frank. I admit, he was a pretty great guy, outside of raising a son with no soul. I can see why she'd feel protective. Luke just lost his dad.

"Well, the marina and piers will need a bit of work to improve infrastructure and safety, but we can work that out in the agreement with Mr. Maddox." My eyes drop to the paper, seeing the figures I came up with yesterday, and I know Luke will never consent to spending that much, even if it does leave him in a better place when the festival is over. "And we're tracking on a budget of around three hundred thousand dollars."

I hear the ripple of shock that sweeps through the crowd and brace myself as I say, "But that includes an estimated sixty to seventy-five thousand dollars to bring the piers up to code first."

"Christ, woman," Hattie interjects. "You think Luke will go for that? You’re nuts. His father just died."

"If I may," a male voice chimes in, and I watch a man wearing an expensive-looking suit rise to his feet and straighten his tie. He's in his forties easily, blond hair and a well-trimmed beard. Clearly, this man isn't from Bandon at all, maybe not even from Oregon. I've never seen him before and I don’t know what input he could actually have on a local topic, but I welcome his interruption so Hattie doesn't eat me alive.

"You may speak, Mister…?" Mayor Grant pauses and smiles and the man continues.

"My apologies, Ms. Mayor. My name is Calvin Dorsey, and I'm highly interested in this topic." He clears his throat and warms the room with his broad smile. "I've spoken with Mr. Frank Maddox," he says, making a point to emphasize the elder Maddox's name, "and must absolutely agree with Ms. Brooks. Frank was definitely on board for this festival. We were in discussions about the sale and purchase of his entire plot of land when he passed."

Hattie glares up at him but holds her tongue, probably afraid of being chewed out by Evelyn. But I can see she looks suspicious. I don’t think I've seen that man before, but it is possible he was speaking to Frank about buying the land. I know for a while Frank was struggling, and he's really let the place go. He could've dug his way out of those repairs but maybe he really was about to give it all up.

"Feel free to speak your mind, Mr. Dorsey." Evelyn lifts both eyebrows as if waiting, so the man continues.

"I have been interested in this town for a while. I run an import business and it's a great place to set up shop. I was speaking with Frank regarding purchasing his piers for use in my business, and he passed. Now I must say that I believe what Ms. Brooksis planning is an absolutely stellar idea. She's right about it returning jobs and drawing tourism. I'd like to say that if the council moves to begin plans, I would like to pledge up to five hundred thousand dollars to support this effort of revitalization for this town and make this festival the best thing on the West Coast."

It seems that more than three-fourths of the people in this room instantly love Mr. Dorsey. They're on their feet whistling and clapping, all while my heart is soaring and my cheeks burn. I can't believe he just offered to literally pay for one hundred percent of my budget plus some. It means we could make it a three-day festival instead of one, and at that amount, we could have brand-new piers, not just repairs to the old ones. If Luke agreed, that is.

When the cheering dies down a little, Hattie stands back up with her hand in the air, and Evelyn rolls her eyes but nods at her. "Go on, Miss Anderson. Speak your mind."

Hattie shakes her head and sighs hard. It's like she's made it her personal mission to show up just to tick me off. "Now I know I sound like a party pooper, but you're making these plans for Luke's land and he's not even here to defend himself. It's his property, and it's his right to say no." She glares at Evelyn, not me, and I'm grateful. "What will you do if he says no?"

The murmurs and chatter really die down and chairs squeak and rustle as people take their seats, and her words land like a rock sinking in water. She has a very valid point, and I hate it. Luke is just being stubborn. It upsets me. He doesn't realize what this means to this town, or to me. He doesn't care that he owes my family, and out of respect for Nick, he should just stop fighting this.