Hannah indulged in an adolescent eye roll. “I just want him to respect Gus’s legacy. What’s Souvenir Planet without aliens?”
“Oh, my darling.” Mom pulled her in for a comforting, squishy hug. “If you had your way, you’d dip this town in Lucite, so nothing ever changed. But change is life. It only stops when you’re dead.”
Hannah inhaled her mother’s familiar floral perfume. “Not true. I get it. Change is inevitable.”I can understand that and still hate it.“But Souvenir Planet occupies the biggest property on Main Street. If he gives it up, God knows what havoc a new developer would wreak.” Her voice wobbled at the memory of bulldozers and destruction. “After what happened to us, I just can’t…” She sniffed hard and dabbed her tear-blurred eyes with her fingertips. “I won’t let it happen again.”
Mom cupped Hannah’s cheeks, her brow creased with concern. “Oh, honey, it breaks my heart how much you still miss that old house. I wish I could’ve saved it for you. But we’re doing okay now, aren’t we?”
Hannah gripped her mother’s shoulders. “It wasn’t your fault. It was Dad’s. And that so-called developer. And the lust for profit at the expense of authenticity. And…”
“Simmer down, love.” Though her eyes glistened, Mom managed a wry smile. “What’s done is done. A wise man once said…” She scrunched her lips to the side. “Something about living in the present, which really is our only option.” She patted Hannah’s cheek. “And if anyone can turn that young man’s head, it’s you.”
“Oh for—” Hannah threw up her hands. “I’m not going to seduce the guy just to get my way. That’s manipulative. It’s…it’s…unethical. Besides, he’s my most important source for this story. Romancing him would be a conflict of interest.”
“Pfft.” Mom waved away Hannah’s scruples with a flick of her wrist.
“I’m serious. The regional editor of theOlympianasked for an in-depth follow-up piece. They love stories about UFOs.” She knotted a sunset-hued silk scarf around her neck. “Our readership’s growing steadily since that first story on Gus’s shop. I can’t endanger that.”
“So we’ve got a few more subscribers. To pull theBeaconout of the red, you’ll need thousands more.”
“And I’ll get them.”Ifher deal withPacNorthwest Magazinewent through: a full-color spread in with her byline, including a digital subscription discount code for theBeaconso readers could follow the developing story. Andifher upcoming interview with that pompous Colonel Malinowski yielded juicy fruit. AndifProfessor Alterman delivered the documentation she promised on the cosmic vortex beneath Gus’s building. Andifher social media teasers were intriguing enough to sell subscriptions.
A lot of ifs.
Mom slurped her tea. “Aren’t you a little old to be living on the plane of idealism? We’re an itty-bitty regional paper, not theNew York Times. And you’ve got your old sparkle back. I haven’t seen that in a while, and I’m chalking that up to Gus’s handsome nephew. So enjoy his company while you convince him to preserve Souvenir Planet. Two birds with one stone, eh?” She sank into her swivel chair, kicked off her worn loafers, and wiggled her toes. “Now, go have fun. It’s good to see you excited about a new friend.”
Her worldly wise mother would blush like a virgin if she knew exactly what Hannah yearned to do to that new friend.
She pulled her waterproof jacket over her blazer, zipped up against the chilly wind, and stepped out onto Main Street. A fat seagull fluttered down at her feet and stared up at her with greedy, beady eyes.
“You got any brilliant ideas for me, bird?”
The gull squawked and winged across the street, landing on Souvenir Planet’s veranda to poke through the makeshift shrine, which had grown since the last time she saw it. Hannah trotted after the bird.
Surely, all Gus’s Trappers Cove friends and relatives must’ve deposited their tributes by now. So who was leaving all these flowers, balloons, and alien knickknacks?
The seagull prodded the pile, then soared away with a tiny silver-suited spaceman dangling from its beak.
“That’s gotta be symbolic,” she muttered.
Right on cue, Xander emerged through the front door, wrapped in a weatherproof jacket. Fists on hips, he scowled at the heap of trinkets and poked a moldy-looking cloth alien with his toe. He gave her a weary smile. “Sure you’re up for this? Looks like we’re gonna get wet.”
That’s what she said.
She stifled a giggle. Damn it, this mission called for finesse, tact, professionalism. But every time he aimed those intense, mahogany eyes her way, her thoughts stalled out.
She gestured toward the pile. “Wow, this shrine keeps growing. Gus was well-loved.”
“On my last coffee break, I spotted a car with California plates. They dropped off flowers, stood here a moment, then left.”
“Like I told you, those aliens draw a lot of customers.”
A smirk twisted his lips. “Lucky me. I get to fulfill my childhood dream of being a laughingstock.”
“Why is such a smart, capable guy so hung up on what other people think?” A month or two in Trappers Cove would cure him of that affliction.Ifhe didn’t give up and flee back to Seattle, which would be tragic.
Fascinating, the way his jaw ticked as he digested her comment. He tilted his chin toward the mountain of love tokens. “Tomorrow, I’ll clear this away.”
“That’s your decision, of course, but I’d keep it. Let people show their respects. Who knows? Maybe Gus’s spirit is hanging around, enjoying the honors.”
