Page 13 of Kissing the Beach Town Fire Chief
"Ah well, yeah, I did hear about redevelopment. The fact is, I am in favor of it,” I say nonchalantly as I sip my tea. Upon hearing that, her expression changes to disapproval.
“What do you mean you’re in favor of it, Smoke? That’s precisely why I’m here. I’ve already spoken to my aunt, but I want to make sure you understand the impact it will have on people like that family. You need to know about these problems, especially if you’re elected to town council.”
Her look is certainly accusing. Annoyance is rising in me both at the use of that ‘nickname’ and in the way she talks to me as if I don’t know any better. “First of all, don’t call me that," I sayin a firm but controlled voice. “And secondly, your problem is that you don't listen, Ami.” I meet her gaze, my eyes narrowing slightly. “When I said I am in favor of redevelopment, it means that the town will be redeveloped, which ultimately includes the construction of new and affordable housing," I explain, trying to keep my patience.
“But you’ll be taking down the beach houses!” Her frustration is evident, evoking a tinge of it in me as well. “Why is that?”
“Why is that a problem?” I shrug, not wanting to cause any further argument. "I believe the beachside should be a tourist spot and not a residential area."
“Tourists would want to come and live on the beachside! Don’t you get that?” Her expression turns incredulous.
I heave an exasperated sigh. I’m tired of trying to explain my point, but she, I know, won't leave unless I clarify my intentions. So I try a gentle approach to explain that if redevelopment takes place, it'll be for the betterment of the town. I try to assure her that no one will suffer because of it. I can't tell her much about my plans, but if I end up being elected, she’ll see for herself. I lean back against the chaise, considering this the end of the debate.
However, Ami's stern and disappointed expression stays. "You know what, Smoke?” she purposely uses the nickname again, making me scowl. “I thought we could discuss this as normal adults, but talking to you is like talking to a wall considering how secretive—” she air quotes that word —you actually are.”
Saying that she stands up and grabs her bag to leave, leaving me conflicted about my emotions once again.
Chapter six
Ami
Dragging myself to Aunt Maggie's campaign party feels like wading through molasses. The sun is setting, casting a warm golden glow over the backyard, but my mood matches the looming clouds on the horizon. The scene is picturesque, with twinkling fairy lights draped over the trees and tables adorned with homemade treats, but I feel like an imposter amidst the laughter and camaraderie of the townsfolk.
I spot Aunt Maggie near the snack table, surrounded by a group of animated supporters. Mustering a smile, I weave through the crowd and make my way over to her.
"Aunt Maggie," I call out, forcing cheerfulness into my voice. "The place looks amazing."
Her eyes light up when she sees me. "Ami, sweetheart! I’m so glad you made it," she pulls me into a warm hug, her familiar scent of lavender and old books comforting.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," I say, pulling back to give her a reassuring smile. "How are you holding up?"
"Oh, you know how these things go," she replies with a chuckle. "Lots of handshaking and trying to remember everyone's names. But I’m managing."
Before I can respond, a few more people join us, forming a small huddle. They greet Aunt Maggie warmly, then turn their attention to me. "And who do we have here?" asks a man with graying hair and a friendly smile. "This is my niece, Amelia," Aunt Maggie introduces. "She's come to help with the campaign." "It's Ami," I correct gently, smiling at the group.
"Ah, Ami," says a woman in a floral dress. "We’ve heard so much about you. Maggie talks about you all the time." I blush slightly, not quite used to being the center of attention. "All good things, I hope."
"Only the best," Aunt Maggie assures me, patting my arm.
The group begins to reminisce about past elections, throwing around names and events that mean nothing to me. I nod along, trying to keep up, but the references fly over my head like seagulls on the beach.
"Remember the '98 election?" the man with the gray hair says, chuckling. "What a fiasco that was." "Oh, don’t remind me," the woman in the floral dress groans. "I thought we’d never hear the end of it. The recounts, the accusations... it was a nightmare."
"And then there was the year we had the candidate who proposed turning the old lighthouse into a theme park," another man adds with a laugh.
"People still joke about that," Aunt Maggie says, shaking her head. "Seabrook: Home of the Lighthouse Roller Coaster."
I smile politely, feeling more out of place with each passing second. These people share a history I am not a part of, and it’s clear how deeply intertwined their lives are with the town’s past. I catch Aunt Maggie’s eye, and she must see the discomfort there because she gently steers the conversation back to more neutral territory. "Ami's been doing some wonderful researchfor my campaign," she says, beaming with pride. "She's been an incredible help."
"Oh, really?" the woman in the floral dress says, turning to me. "What kind of research?"
"Well, I’ve been looking into some of the town’s history and trying to find unique angles for Aunt Maggie’s campaign," I explain, grateful for the change in topic. "That’s wonderful," another person chimes in. "We need fresh perspectives to keep things interesting." I nod, feeling a bit more at ease. "I’m just glad I can contribute. Aunt Maggie means a lot to me, and I want to support her however I can."
"She’s lucky to have you," Mr. Gray Hair says kindly. "Family support is so important in these things."
The night drags on, and despite my efforts to fit in, I still feel out of place. I take a break from mingling and find a quiet corner near the edge of the yard. I pull out my phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media, trying to distract myself. Aunt Maggie spots me and makes her way over, her expression a mix of concern and understanding. Feeling a bit overwhelmed?" she asks gently. I sigh, shoving my phone back into my pocket. "Yeah, a little. It’s just... this isn’t really my scene, you know? Everyone here knows each other so well, and I feel like I am intruding."
Aunt Maggie nods, her eyes softening. "I understand. It can be tough to feel like you belong in a place where everyone has so much shared history. But give it time, Ami. You’ll find your footing."
