“Come on, Mack. It won’t be forever, and it’s no big deal. You know everything there is to know about me. Our childhoods are the same, so fill Poppy in on the basics of my history. You don’t even have to initiate. Check the account regularly, and when she emails, respond. Do your best impression of me. Easy peasy.”
We’re getting close to the airport now, and I’m panicking because I don’t know how I’m going to be able to talk myself out of this preposterous scheme Holland has cooked up. The man is not used to hearing no. So much so, that I’m pretty convinced a negative response doesn’t register in his brain. I make a last-ditch effort.
“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to build a relationship on a foundation of lies.”
“That’s deep, Mack. Really deep.” Holland rolls his eyes. “But I hardly think I’m going to take relationship advice from you.”
I can practically feel the blood in my veins turn to ice at that backhanded barb.
Holland doesn’t notice the way I’m clenching the wheel now. He’s messing around on his phone. “You’re making this out to be a bigger deal than it is. I’m still going to be texting Poppy and calling her when I can. I’ll be home for the wedding next month, and we’ll regroup then. It’s all going to be fine. I need your help with this one simple thing. If you don’t think you can handle it, I’ll figure something else out.”
I pull into the drop-off lane at the airport and exhale, ready to tell my brother to bite me. But then, I don’t know what happens…
Maybe it’s loneliness.
Maybe it’s exhaustion.
Maybe it’s a deep-seeded desire to prove to Holland—and everyone else—that I’m not such a big screw-up that I can’t handle being someone’s fake pen-pal.
But I open my mouth and out spill the words, “Fine. Give me the account information.”
3
Nicknames Are Bestowed
Poppy
“You know why it’s called Cashmere Cove?”
I spin around to find my supervisor waddling into the room—waddle is her word, not mine.
Heather Arnold—also known as the director of the Cashmere Cove Parks and Recreation Department and my new boss—is nine months pregnant. I’ve known her for all of two hours, and what I’ve determined is that she’s basically Superwoman.
So far this morning, she’s recruited three extra umpires for the youth baseball program so they won’t be short for games tonight. She’s resolved a snafu with a concession stand order. The vendor sent the town of Cashmere Cove one thousand extra choco tacos, and Heather got right on the phone and told them they needed to come back and pick them up and issue the town a complete refund. “We don’t have the freezer space for that size order,” she told me. She proceeded to send me to where the boxes got dropped off to snag us each one of the sweet treats before they were whisked away.
She’s officially my hero.
“No. I guess I don’t.” I take one last look at the water before returning to the seat on the opposite side of Heather’s desk.
She plunks down in her seat and blows the strand of hair that has fallen from her messy bun out of her face, wiping her brow with the back of her wrist. “The sandy bottom of our stretch of the bay. People say it feels as soft as cashmere on your toes when you walk out into the water.” She shrugs. “Or something like that. I’m not an expert. All I know is it is hot, and the water is a welcome relief most days in the summer. It’s also a source for a ton of our activities, so I’m grateful for it.”
I’m accustomed to the white-sand beaches of Florida, which are stunning in their own right, but Cashmere Cove is a different kind of gorgeous. The blue of the sky blurs with the greens and grays of the rocky, tree-dotted shoreline. The buildings lining Main Street are quaint and welcoming. Each one has different colored siding and trim, so when you walk down the road, it’s like you’re on the inside of a rainbow. The whole town feels cozy and accessible.
Cashmere Cove is one in a myriad of towns dotting Cashmere County, a premiere tourist destination in northeast Wisconsin. The county spans the entirety of the peninsula that juts out from the state into Lake Michigan. Cashmere Cove is situated on the bay side of the peninsula.
I nod. “Useful and beautiful.”
“Glad you think so. You’re going to get up close and personal with it.”
I sit up straighter. I want to make a good impression on this woman. I’ll be filling in for her when she goes out on maternity leave…any day now. My position is only temporary at the moment. If I can prove myself an asset to the department, then they may extend me a full-time offer after Heather returns.
I fully intend to earn that offer. “What do you need me to do?”
Heather tugs open the drawer of her desk and retrieves a sheet of paper. She hands it over to me, and I skim the contents.
“The fifteenth annual Cashmere Cove Party in the Park,” I read.
“We throw a huge end-of-the-summer bash every August. Those are the plans we’ve made so far. You’ll have to take over as point person for me, coordinate the event, and get it across the finish line for us.”
Heather levels me with a steely look. I can’t tell if she thinks I’m going to be intimidated by this task, or if that’s her resting facial expression.
This is a huge responsibility. Maybe I should be worried, but all I can see it for is a huge opportunity to prove myself. It’s what I wanted and what I’m good at. A zing of excitement flies down my spine.
Thank you, Holland Bradley. I could kiss you right now!
I make a mental note to write Holland my first email in our special account later today and tell him all about how excited this job makes me, how grateful I am.
For now, I turn my attention back to Heather.
She’s fanning herself with a notebook, and I feel a shot of sympathy for her, coupled with another huge helping of awe. Heather is growing a human, which means if the temperature outside feels hot to me, I imagine it feels like the inside of an oven cranked up to four hundred twenty-five for her. I really like her. She’s got a no-nonsense attitude I can get behind, but there’s a softness there too. And she’s organized, which is my love language.
I’ve done my research and know the types of programming the Cashmere Cove Parks and Rec department offers. It’s good stuff for the community—and for the tourists who flock to Wisconsin’s Cashmere County each year. I want to be a part of it. I want to be on Heather’s team. I’m going to do everything I can to make this woman’s life as easy as possible.
“This sounds awesome. I can handle it.” I finish glancing over the details on the page. “I don’t see anything geared toward teenagers on this list. Am I missing something?”
Heather shakes her head. “We’ve always had a hard time attracting the younger crowd. Actually, we’re good with kids because we have a whole host of kids’ games lined up.”
I nod, noting the games listed along with a contact person, one Tricia Reynolds.
“And the older crowd…think sixties and above…they like the musical acts and bingo offerings early in evening. But I think we miss out on capturing the attention of the teenagers—and their parents, for that matter.”