22. Kade

Chapter twenty-two

Kade

T he ancient floorboards of Whistleport's town hall groaned as I stepped inside the main meeting room. A slightly musty smell hung in the air while a single pedestal fan whirred in the corner. When I sat in a wooden chair, it creaked beneath me, the seat worn smooth by generations of citizens diligently participating in local government.

Mayor Flannigan, a stout man with a shock of white hair and a voice like gravel, called the meeting to discuss and coordinate efforts to rebuild the harbor after the disastrous explosions and fires. No one knew for sure what direction the discussion would take.

At 7 p.m. on the dot, the mayor stood at the podium with his gavel in hand. "Okay, everyone, let's come to order. There's a lot of ground to cover tonight, and I'm sure we'd all like to get back to our homes as soon as possible."

As individual conversations died down, I scanned the room from the back row. Many familiar faces were present in the crowd, and I saw worry in many of them.

Captain Hank folded his gnarled hands in his lap as he gave his full attention to the mayor. Mrs. Fairweather, who lost her late husband's lobster boat in the disaster, stared defiantly forward. Finally, two rows ahead, I spotted the back of Ziggy's head, sitting next to his dad with his dark hair askew as always.

Mayor Flannigan began his comments. "I know everyone is eager to get our port back in order. We will accomplish that as soon as possible, but we must coordinate the efforts. We can't have everyone rebuilding willy-nilly."

Dottie Perkins thrust her hand into the air as her bracelets jangled. "What about the insurance money? Do we know when that will come through?"

A ripple of questions passed through the crowd. The mayor sighed and removed his reading glasses. "I'm afraid I can't provide a simple answer, Dottie. As often happens, the insurance companies are dragging their feet. Some are trying to withhold payments by waving around act of God clauses and whatnot."

A massive groan rose from the gathered residents. I heard a few pointed comments:

"Bloodsuckers, the entire lot of them!"

"How're we supposed to survive and make a living?"

"My men can't fish with no damn boat!"

Mayor Flannigan banged his gavel, trying to calm the crowd. "I know, and I understand. It's unfair, but we can't make something out of nothing. If we're to receive any compensation, we must work with others instead of against them. I've had my office draw up a preliminary schedule, collaborating with architects to organize rebuilding plans. We'll start with the main pier and work our way outward."

A chart hung on the wall behind him. As he started to talk about the details, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Silas crouched behind me with a furrowed brow.

"This isn't good, kid. People are scared. I don't know how we'll pull this off without that insurance money."

A knot appeared in my gut. Whistleport was resilient. Old-timers frequently talked about destructive Nor'Easters of the past, but the fire was a step beyond.

Before I could respond to Silas, the door at the back of the room creaked open. Every head turned to check out who dared to interrupt such a solemn occasion. I gasped, along with many others, when I saw the tall figure silhouetted in the doorway.

It was my father.

Mayor Flannigan adjusted his glasses. "I'm sorry, sir, but this is a town meeting. It is open to all residents, but if you're not—"

I stood and spoke out. "Oh, he's not a resident, but since he's here, I think you will all want to hear what he has to say."

I wasn't sure why Dad would appear, but I had a good guess. We'd had a good discussion just two days earlier when I came out to my parents, and I didn't think he would travel all the way up to Whistleport for a personal appearance without good news to share.

A hush fell over the crowd as my father joined Mayor Flannigan at the podium. His dark, tailored suit contrasted sharply with the casual clothing the local residents wore. I held my breath as he started to speak.

"Good evening, Whistleport," my father began. I knew by the tone of his voice that he was in a good mood. He knew how to turn on the charm when an occasion called for it. "In light of recent events. on behalf of the Langston family, I would like to announce a contribution to your rebuilding efforts."

Murmurs swept through the crowd like a strong breeze off the ocean. I caught snippets:

"Langston? As in Kade Langston?"

"What's the catch?"

Dottie Perkins' voice cut through the din, sharp as a fishhook. "Well, I never! What's a big city family want with our little port?"

My father continued, unfazed by the murmuring crowd. "We'll be covering all costs for the harbor reconstruction not met by insurance."

The room exploded into a cacophony of sound as everyone rose out of their seats. Cheers accompanied gasps of disbelief, creating a wave of noise that rocked the old town hall. Conflicting emotions rose inside me—pride in my family's generosity, anxiety about the attention, and a twinge of frustration that I hadn't known about the plan.

Mayor Flannigan banged his gavel repeatedly, fighting to be heard over the noise. "Order, please! Order!" His gruff voice cracked slightly, revealing his own surprise at the turn of events.

As the roar began to subside, I noticed a few specific reactions. Dottie Perkins dabbed at her eyes with a floral handkerchief, her voice warbling louder than the rest, "Oh my stars, it's a miracle! Kade, honey, your family's an answer to our prayers!"

Knick Knickerbocker stood stock-still beside Ziggy, his weathered face as unreadable as driftwood. I watched as he looked first at me and then at my father, trying to understand the unexpected turn of events.

Silas caught my eye from across the room, offering a slight nod and a raised eyebrow. He mouthed, "We need to talk."

Mayor Flannigan cleared his throat, finally regaining some control over the gathering. "This is an act of unprecedented generosity, Mr. Langston. I think I speak for all of Whistleport when I say we're deeply grateful. But, if I may ask, what prompted this extraordinary offer?"

My father's practiced smile never wavered. "Whistleport has strong new connections with my family," he said, his eyes briefly meeting mine. "Our family foundation believes in helping support and preserve communities of vital interest to our loved ones. It's not just about rebuilding a harbor; it's about securing a positive future for the next generation."

A fresh wave of murmurs swept through the room. I caught more snippets of conversation. They demonstrated a mix of gratitude and confusion:

"It's too good to be true!"

"What's the catch?"

"Do you think they'll want to change things?"

"Who cares? We're saved!"

Mayor Flannigan raised his hands, trying to quiet the room once more. "Folks, please! Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth. Mr. Langston, on behalf of Whistleport, we accept your incredibly generous offer. Now, if you'll bear with us, I'm sure there are many details to discuss..."

His final words disappeared, lost in all of the excited chatter. Residents turned to their neighbors, gesturing wildly, as their faces lit up with renewed hope.

Dottie Perkins cornered a group of her friends. "I always said that Langston boy was special, didn't I? Why, just the other day..."

Captain Hank was on his feet, one of his weathered hands gripping the shoulder of a younger fisherman. "You hear that, boy? We'll have you back on the water before you know it!"

Even Knick Knickerbocker abandoned his usual stoic facade, engaging in an intense discussion with several other lobstermen, their heads bent close together.

Realizing he had lost control of the meeting, Mayor Flannigan sighed and relinquished his gavel. He stepped away from the podium and made his way toward my father, no doubt to begin hammering out the details.

As the excitement swirled around us, attention turned to me from several directions. Ziggy appeared at my side, taking my hand in his.

"Did you know about this?" he whispered, green eyes open wide.

I shook my head. "He didn't tell me."

Ziggy tugged on my hand. "Let's get some air."

We slipped out onto the town hall's back steps, the cool night was a relief after the stuffy interior. The distant lapping of waves against the shore provided a soothing counterpoint to the muffled excitement inside.

Ziggy leaned against the railing, moonlight catching the angles of his face. "So... that happened."

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly. "Yeah. I'm still wrapping my head around it."

"It's amazing, Kade. But..." Ziggy hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Why? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm beyond grateful. But your family doesn't have specific ties here."

I met his gaze. "They didn't until a few days ago. Now, they have me, and I have you."

Ziggy stared at me, realization dawning on his face. "You talked to them about us?"

I nodded and released a nervous laugh. "It wasn't exactly how I planned to come out, but... yeah. I told them how much you and Whistleport mean to me. I explained how being here has changed my life."

Ziggy pulled me close. "I'm so proud of you."

We stood there for a moment, reveling in each other's presence. Then, Ziggy pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, does this make you, like, Whistleport royalty now?"

I groaned, shoving him playfully. "God, I hope not. Can you imagine Dottie trying to set me up with her granddaughter?"

Ziggy's laughter rang out, bright and clear in the night air. It faded into a comfortable silence as we both turned to look out over the town.

"What happens now?" Ziggy asked softly, raising the question that had been nagging at me.

Before I could answer, the door creaked open behind us. Silas stepped out, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Well, well," he drawled, "if it isn't Whistleport's new golden boy and his beau."

I blushed. "Silas, I swear I didn't know about this. It was as big a surprise to me as it was to everybody else. Dad sometimes does phenomenal things all on his own."

He held up a hand, chuckling. "Relax, kid. I believe you. But you might want to brace yourself. Dottie's in there spinning quite the tale about how you single-handedly saved the town."

Ziggy snorted. "Oh man, what's she saying now?"

Silas adopted a high-pitched, warbling voice that was a near-perfect imitation of Dottie. "I always knew that Langston boy was special! Why, just the other day, I saw him helping Mrs. Findlay with her groceries. And now look! He's saved our town!"

We all burst into laughter, the tension of the evening finally breaking.

"Seriously though," Silas said, his tone growing somber, "this is big, Kade. People are going to look at you differently now."

I nodded as the weight of it settled on my shoulders. "I know. I just... I want to help. You're all family to me now, this place and these people."

Silas clapped a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "And you're family to us now, too. Just remember, with great generosity comes great responsibility... and a whole lot of nosy neighbors."

As if on cue, Dottie's voice rang out from inside. "Kade? Kade, darling, where are you? We simply must discuss the rebuilding committee!"

Ziggy stifled a laugh as I groaned. Silas shot me a sympathetic look. "Welcome to small-town fame, kid. Better you than me."

As Silas headed back inside to run interference, I turned to Ziggy. "You asked what happens now?" I took a deep breath, the salt-tinged air filling my lungs. "Honestly? I don't know. But I do know this—whatever comes next, we're sticking together."

As we stood there, a sense of purpose settled over me. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but for the first time in my life, I was confident I could forge my own path. I was no longer merely following expectations.

Just then, Dottie burst out onto the steps, her eyes wild with excitement. "Oh, there you are! Kade, darling, you must tell me all about your family's philanthropic history. And Ziggy! What a catch you've landed, dear. Who knew all those hockey practices would lead to this?"

Ziggy and I exchanged a look, equal parts amusement and resignation. This was our new reality—the golden couple of Whistleport, under the town's watchful (and often meddling) eyes.