Connie sat up straighter. “The bulk buyer’s club?”
Vick’s car salesman grinned widened. “The very same.”
“I love that place. I go every time I head down to Jackson to visit my sister.”
“Well, you may not have to drive that far in the future. They’re looking to expand their market share in Mississippi, and Wishful is a potential site.”
Hello red flag number one. Cam crossed his arms. “What sense does that make? We don’t have the population base to support a store of that size. They only build in cities or big interstate hubs. We’re neither.”
Sutto answered that charge. “You raise a good point. And it’s true that up to this point, we have focused on sites that meet those criteria. But Wishful is centralized. So much of Mississippi’s population is considered rural by population standards. Right now, we have a GrandGoods down on the coast in Biloxi, one in Jackson, and one in Southaven. That leaves the north central portion of the state unserved. Wishful occupies a central location that could draw c
itizens from Oxford, the Golden Triangle area, and all the rural counties between. That’s a few hundred thousand people right there, within an hour and a half radius, with no shopping alternative that would provide the same benefits.”
“Why would you choose to build here rather than in, say, Tupelo?” Grace asked. “That would hit almost all the same areas.”
“That’s a great question, Grace.” Sutto beamed as if she were a prize pupil. “Tupelo already has a Sam’s Club. GrandGoods is more interested in expanding into an area with no existing competition. We want to pilot test a store on a slightly smaller scale in a rural location. And we want Wishful.”
“Just imagine what that kind of business would draw to town,” Grace said.
A sense of deep unease unfurled inside Cam at the thought. GrandGoods would bring customers, sure, but it would also bring urban bloat. More chains, more franchises, more depersonalization.
Vick picked up the thread again. “Not only work for the labor hired to build the store and the jobs created for the people to work in it. But it would pull in people from all over to shop here. That would provide a really nice chunk of additional revenue that we could use.”
At what cost? Cam exchanged a Look with his mother. Very little was as cut and dry as they were making it out to be. “I have serious reservations about how a business like that would impact the community. Yeah, it’d mean short term jobs for those involved with construction, provided GrandGoods did actually hire local labor. And probably longer term jobs for those needed to run the store. But what impact will it have on competing local businesses? What percentage of the people who come in from surrounding areas will actually stop in at other businesses here? And what about the increased burden on the infrastructure? All that extra traffic that isn’t part of our tax base and isn’t going to be paying for upkeep of roads.”
All solicitousness, Sutto nodded. “Those are completely valid concerns. First off, let me assure you that GrandGoods fully intends to recruit local labor for construction of the store, should our proposal be accepted. As to the impact on competing local businesses, we don’t foresee that being an issue. GrandGoods is a particular type of store and shouldn’t infringe on the smaller, niche businesses already established. We have no intention of damaging the character of your town but, rather, believe that we can enhance it.”
Cam doubted that.
“I’ve got a presentation of our full proposal prepared that will, I hope, answer more of your questions. If you’d direct your attention up here, please.”
Somebody dimmed the lights for Sutto’s PowerPoint presentation. Cam sat through it, listening to the spin and the promises and the buzzwords with half an ear as he observed the reactions of the other Councilmen. By the end, they were all nodding, smiling, some of them actually excited. Not a damned one of them seemed concerned that a formal proposal presented to the city was only subject to the rules already contained in the zoning code. As far as Cam knew, that meant just a weak site plan review stood between Wishful and this store should the proposal be accepted.
Sandra steepled her fingers. “You make compelling arguments.”
Beneath the table, Cam’s hands fisted. Sutto had neatly skirted the issue of strain on infrastructure and overplayed the limited benefit Wishful would receive from sales tax. Had anyone noticed but him?
“Certainly, I think he’s made enough valid points that we should enter into more formal discussion of the proposal,” Ed agreed.
“Of course, we want to allow you ample time to make an informed, educated decision, as well as an opportunity to discuss any issues you may have with our proposal.”
Vick began gathering up his papers. “I’ll get all of you a copy of the full proposal tomorrow morning.”
Cam swallowed down his rage. “I can promise you, we’ll have plenty of questions.”
A date was set for the next City Council meeting, which Bill Sutto would return for. That gave Cam fourteen days to figure out how the hell he was going to derail this.
“There’s one thing you haven’t mentioned yet. Where exactly do you propose building this store?”
“Oh we’re already in negotiations for a parcel of land on the outskirts of town.”
Cam tensed, already knowing the answer before Vick clarified, “Abe Costello’s land out near Hope Springs. It’s fitting, don’t you think, that the business that can bring hope back to this town be situated right there.”
It was a minor miracle Cam managed to stay in his seat. “I’d hope that you would consider other sites with less historical significance.”
Vick waved that away as if it meant nothing. “The site isn’t the most important. We’ll find a place for it. The point is that even you can’t stop all progress, Crawford. We have ambitions for our town.”
Ambition was exactly what Cam was afraid of. In his experience, ambition destroyed everything it touched, and he wasn’t about to stand by and allow it to change the heart of his town.