Turn Over

I grabbed my keys from the counter and jogged down the stairs. I wanted to ride with the top down. I started at the end of the island closest to the Palm, searching the side streets. I turned around in every cul-de-sacs and drove to the next grid of roads. After an hour, I started to think my plan wasn’t going to work, but then I saw a gravel road half-covered in vines and brown grass. I slowed the car and turned onto the path. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t perfect. It would work.

I dialed the Dallas office.

“Mark, I need our broker to purchase a piece of land today.”

“Today, sir?” I hated how he always repeated what I said.

“Yes, today. Can the team handle it?”

“Of course. What’s the listing number?”

I groaned. “It doesn’t have a listing number. I’ll shoot you the address. Make an offer, get it done today. Also, start the permit application to have the land zoned for water and electricity. It needs to be completed in two weeks.”

I stepped out of the car. It was basically a wasteland. I estimated how many trailers I thought could fit. “And make that for ten trailer hookups. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” He hesitated.

“What is it, Mark?”

“Why are we buying this land, sir? Did I miss a report or an email?”

“It’s for the residents of Beach Combers Cove. We can’t get everyone moved, but ten should be enough. Take care of it, and let me know when it’s finished.”

“Will do. I’ll have Barbara start immediately.”

“Thanks, Mark. I know I’ve put a lot on everyone in the office this past week. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

I surveyed the field. I hoped like hell this would work.

Five minutes later I pulled into the Pancake House parking lot. It was a local favorite on the island. The kind of place that served breakfast twenty-four-seven. I slid into a booth near the back of the diner.

“What can I get you?” A waitress, who looked as if she were still in high school dropped a glass of water on the table, spilling it on the floor. “I’m sorry.” She stooped to the floor. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Another girl rushed over to help her. “We’ll clean it right up.”

“Not a problem. Everything I’m wearing can dry.”

The second waitress looked up. “I know who you are.”

“Funny. I was about to say the same thing to you. Shawna Douglas, right?”

She nodded. “Carrie, I’ll take care of this customer.” She directed the young girl back to the register, carrying wet towels. “I didn’t expect you to be in here.”

“I’d like eggs, bacon, and two pancakes.” I handed her a menu.

“You’re in here for pancakes?”

“It’s the Pancake House.”

“Of course. I’ll get that order in for you.”

Ten minutes later Shawna returned with a plate of hot food. I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Can I get anything else for you?” she asked.

“Well, I was getting ready to ask you that.” I peeled the paper wrapper from the silverware.