A Shore Thing by Julie Carobini

desk.
    Gage’s client’s question hung between them until he shrugged it away, ready to be off that phone. “I’ll be in touch.”
    “You do that.” The line went dead.
    Suz peeked through the doorway. “Tough customer?”
    Gage stared at the bland wall outside his window, his voice sounding far away even to his ears. “And perplexing.” He forced the conversation out of his head and swung around to look at his little sister.
    “Did you want to ask me something?”
    She approached him, a note in her hand. “You had a call from a realtor. A Rick Knutson.”
    Gage shook his head. “I’ve seen the guy’s picture on signs around town but don’t know him. Did he say what he wanted?”
    “Just that he had some news on a property you were working on.” One of her eyebrows lifted as if a question mark held it up.
    “What’s the look for?”
    She relaxed her face in a hurry. “Nothing. He just reminded me of, you know, a used car salesman or something. He talked real fast and called me honey. Who does that?”
    Gage laughed. “Hey, watch it. Our father sold used cars when he was in college.” He sat forward and held the note in both hands. “A real estate agent, huh?” Gage didn’t bother to ask which property the caller was referring to because, unfortunately, there was only one—hopefully, the one that would lead to more work than he could handle. He looked up. “Thanks, Suz. I’ll give him a call.”

Chapter Nine

    “How did you let this happen?” Squid paced as Luz and I continued to pore over the cabin assignments spread across her desk.
    I turned up both hands. “Somehow I missed a church. It happens.”
    He paused and gave me a sideways glance. “It happens when your head’s not in the game.”
    I frowned. “When have you known me to make a mistake like this?”
    He took several more steps, then tossed up his hands. “Sorry, Callie. You’re right. Mistakes happen.”
    Luz grimaced. “Just don’t let it happen again, right?”
    We both turned to stare at her.
    She waved us off. “Ah. You both seem distracted lately, like you’re here but your attention’s somewhere else.”
    Squid and I exchanged glances. He tossed a strange little smile my direction and a sigh slid between his lips. “She’s right. It’s the second week of camp and something’s just not jelling with the program.” He stared at the fake wood paneling. “Can’t figure it out and it’s ticking me off.”
    I rubbed my lips together, my eyebrows raised. “Wish I could help, but um, we’ve got this little problem over here.”
    “What’s your solution?”
    Luz jumped in. “Hope that someone’s bus breaks down?”
    I cut her a look. “Nice. No. First off, I’ve never known a weekend where someone didn’t fail to show up. It’s a fact that people get sick. We don’t like it or wish it on anybody, but it happens all the time. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
    The lines in Squid’s forehead deepened. I’d never seen him so stressed. “And if everyone shows up?”
    My lips continued to run together as I considered my last resort. The boys would hate it. The newfound leader in me inhaled and let it out before announcing my decision. “The game room. We take bunks out of storage and move them in there. And, of course, move the foosball tables, etcetera, out.”
    One corner of Squid’s mouth curled upward as he nodded, while a small smile lit Luz’s face.
    I continued. “Thankfully the bathroom’s located just outside the cabin and it’s warming up a little, enough that campers won’t have to traipse outside in the early morning frost to use the facilities.”
    Squid slapped the sides of his jeans. “Well, okay. You have a plan.”
    “You doubted me?”
    He bowed. “My apologies to the ever-resourceful Seabird.”
    “Oh, brother.” Luz’s previously hopeful expression had degenerated into a scowl. She glanced out the dusty window. “Don’t look now but it looks like an early arrival.”
    Squid