Page 32 of A Secret Chance
Shirley strode past the group to take a seat in the massive leather chair behind her solid oak desk. “Please, have a seat.” She gestured to the well-worn chairs in front of her desk. “That is if you’re not too depressed to sit down.”
“What Barry meant was...” Baxter tried to think of an excuse for his executive. “He’s having a hard time working with a mountain full of snow ready for skiing. Isn’t that what you meant, Barry?”
“Exactly,” Barry said. “I can’t wait to get out there and go skiing.”
“I hear you,” Shirley smiled, “I was able to shred a few laps before work. You should get up earlier.”
Baxter chuckled. The mayor had to be in her eighties but was throwing out ski lingo like a seventeen-year-old. “How’s the pow?” Baxter asked.
“Knee deep,” Shirley said. “We should be having our meeting in the gondola.”
Baxter laughed.
“I’m serious,” Shirley said. She shuffled the papers on her desk and then crossed her hands in front of her. “I hear that you have an updated master plan to present to the council?”
“We do,” Thomas said. He set the cardboard tube on Mayor Smythe’s desk and pulled out the amended drawings. Thomas proceeded to go through all of the changes that the group had made. Baxter smiled as he watched his team in action. Mayor Smythe nodded as Thomas outlined the changes. His smile faded when the Mayor sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.
“This is a start,” she said. “I’ve been the mayor of Chance Rapids for twenty years. During that time, there has been a lot of change, but every decision has been made with the best interests of the Rapidians. I don’t care if this will bring thousands of people to our town, if it means that the quality of life for my fellow residents will be impacted negatively, I won’t have it.
“Mayor Smy—”
The mayor interrupted Baxter, “Let me finish.” She held up her arthritic-looking hand. “You’ve made some good changes here, but I need you to get it.”
“Get it?” Baxter said.
“It’s a small town.” Shirley handed the tube of drawings back to Thomas. “People talk. I know that you and your crew haven’t left your fancy, catered chalet all week.”
It was true, they had hunkered down to get the changes done. “We wanted to make sure that these plans were ready for council’s review,” Baxter explained.
“And I appreciate that,” Shirley said. “If we’re going to proceed with a big development like this, I need to know that the developers understand what it’s like to live here, how the locals live. Show me that you actually care about the town and I’ll grant you your hearing.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Thomas wasn’t trying very hard to hide his irritation.
“Go talk to people. Find out why they live here, what makes this town so different. You might be surprised.”
Baxter realized that they were going about this process all wrong. He was trying to bring his big-city square peg attitude and trying to shove it into the round hole of small-town mentality.
“Can you do that?” Thomas asked. “I mean, this is business.”
Baxter kicked Thomas’s foot. “Is there anything specific you’d like us to do?”
“Yeah,” Thomas echoed. “I don’t see how this is going to change anything.”
Shirley took a gold-plated pen from its holder on her desk and proceeded to write on a pad of paper. She ripped it off and handed it to Baxter. “Here are some suggestions.” He glanced down at the perfect cursive penmanship. “I also have these.” Shirley handed Baxter a manila envelope.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Tickets to the Winter Carnival.”
“I don’t know...” Baxter tried to hand the envelope back to Shirley. “We have a lot of work to do.”
“Young man,” Shirley pointed her finger at him. “You’re not getting it. This kind of...” she pointed to the envelope containing the tickets, “getting involved in the town, is work. As a matter of fact, it should be your number one priority.” Shirley nudged the envelope back across the desk.
Baxter pursed his lips and slid the envelope into his messenger bag.
“Thanks for your advice,” he said.
“I’ll see you folks there,” Shirley said. She stood up from behind her desk and picked up her skis. “I’ll walk you out.”
