On Sunset Beach by Mariah Stewart

Our event business has tripled since she brought her business back from California. But I digress.” She paused to take a sip of water. “People plan their vacations around certain events—First Families’ Day is always big, the regatta, the Waterman Festival, the Christmas Tour, always big draws for tourists. Think of what that means to the community, to the merchants, to have all these people coming into town twelve months of the year, booking rooms and shopping on Charles Street and eating at our restaurants. And every week Ihave a feature, something about the history of the town or an upcoming event, or an interview with one of our residents that might be interesting. For example, I did a lovely feature on Dallas MacGregor when she first moved back here and another when she married Grant. As a follow-up, I did an article on Grant’s veterinary clinic and his efforts to rescue dogs from highkill shelters and to find good, loving homes for them. A few months ago, I interviewed Dallas again about the film studio she’s built here and her plans to make movies right here in St. Dennis.”
    He nodded. He got it.
    “People like those features, Ford. They look forward every week to see who or what is on the front page. Of course, we cover the elections and the police blotter and new businesses, that sort of thing, but it’s the stories about the people and the events that have made the paper relevant again. And for the first time in its hundred and some-odd years in existence, the
Gazette
has paid subscriptions from out-of-towners, summer people and people who want to be summer people. Day-trippers. Friends of friends. We’ve never taken in as much advertising revenue as we do now. Every business in town—and some not in town—advertises with us because they know that this paper is read by the people who are or who will be their customers.”
    “So in other words, you couldn’t stop if you wanted to.”
    She laughed. “Why, I’d be burned at the stake if I tried. The merchants would never forgive me. I’d never be able to show my face in public again.”
    “But you could still sell it, if you ever wanted to retire.”
    “I won’t be wanting to retire, but I admit that I do worry about what will happen to the paper when I’m gone.”
    “Mom …”
    “Oh, don’t give me that face. Everyone dies, son. Every single one of us. It’s the only sure thing in this life. If you were born, you
will
die.”
    He’d learned enough about this particular topic to know she spoke the truth. Still, the last thing he wanted to think about was life without his mother.
    “I don’t worry about the inn. Danny
is
the Inn at Sinclair’s Point now, so your father’s family business is secured. It’s my family’s legacy I worry about.” She shook her head. “I thought perhaps your cousin Andrew might be interested—for a time, he seemed to be—but apparently that was just a passing fancy.” She blew out a long breath laden with sad thoughts. “But that’s a problem for another day, right? Today I’m happy because you’re home and you’re happy because the party is behind you, so let’s just finish our breakfast and get on with our day, shall we?”
    “I agree.” He leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t aware of how deeply you care about the paper and what it means to you. I’m glad you kept it going all these years, Mom. I’m happy that there’s something in your life that gives you so much satisfaction.”
    “Thank you, dear. You know the old recipe for happiness—I’d say I have all the ingredients.”
    He shook his head. “I don’t know that one.”
    “Someone to love, something to do, something tolook forward to. I’m such a lucky woman to still have all those things in my life.” She was smiling but her eyes grew wary as she added, “Now tell me, what are you looking forward to?”
    “Right now I’m looking forward to finishing this delicious breakfast