He faced her again. “You know my answer.”
“The town will be one-hundred-and-fifty-years old on August ninth. That will be a momentous occasion, and everyone wants you to be a part of it.”
Jack shook his head. “You don’t need me.”
“Yes, we do.” Doreen’s tone was filled with dogged determination. “This sesquicentennial is a chance for Trinity Falls to raise its profile in the county and across the state. You, of all people, must have a role in the Founders Day Celebration.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is.” Doreen leaned into the desk. “This event, if done well, will bring in extra revenue.”
“I know about the town’s budget concerns. I have an online subscription to The Trinity Falls Monitor.” Reading the paper online saved Jack from having to go into town or deal with a newspaper delivery person.
Doreen continued as though Jack hadn’t spoken. “If we host a large celebration with high-profile guests, we’ll attract more people. These tourists will stay in our hotels, eat in our restaurants, and buy our souvenirs.”
“Great. Good luck with that.” He checked his watch for emphasis. It was almost two o’clock in the afternoon. “Anything else?”
She softened her voice. “I know that you’re still grieving Zoey’s death.”
“Don’t.” The air drained from the room.
“I can’t imagine how devastated you must feel at the loss of your daughter.”
“Doreen.” He choked out her name.
“We understand you need time to grieve. But, Jack, it’s been almost two years. It’s not healthy to close yourself off from human contact. People care about you. We can help you.”
“Can you bring her back?” The words were harsh, rough, and raw.
Doreen looked stricken. “I can no more bring back your daughter than I can resurrect my late husband.”
Paul Fever had died from cancer more than a year ago. He’d been sixty-seven. In contrast, leukemia had cut his daughter’s life tragically short.
Jack struggled to reel in his emotions. “People grieve in different ways.”
Pity reappeared in Doreen’s warm brown eyes. “I went through the same feelings. But, Jack, at some point, you have to rejoin society.”
“Not today.” Some days, he feared he’d never be ready.
Caring about people hurt. He’d loved his ex-wife and his daughter. He never again wanted to experience the pain losing them had caused. If anything, the experience had taught him that it was better not to let people get too close.
The persistent ringing shattered Audra’s dream. She blinked her eyes open. Had she fallen asleep?
Her gaze dropped to the song stanzas scribbled across the notebook on her lap. Was it the red-eye flight or her lyrics that had lulled her to sleep?
She stretched forward to grab her cell phone. “Hello?”
“Did we wake you?” Her mother asked after a pause.
Audra heard the surprise in the question. “It was a long trip.” She refused to believe her writing had put her to sleep. “Is everything OK?”
Ellen Prince Lane sighed. “That’s what we’re calling to find out. We thought you were going to call us when you arrived at the resort.”
“I sent you a text when I landed.” Audra scrubbed a hand across her eyes, wiping away the last remnants of fatigue.
“A text is not a phone call.” Ellen spoke with exaggerated patience. “How do we know that someone didn’t kidnap you and send that text to delay our reporting you missing?”
Audra rolled her eyes. Her mother read too many true-crime novels. Her father wouldn’t have suspec