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“Excuse me.”
I flip around and there’s a guy a bit younger than us with long hair, a Bob Marley shirt, and a friendly voice.
“Are you using this?” He’s pointing to the extra chair at our table.
“No. Go for it.”
“Thanks.” He picks up the chair and starts to walk away.
“Hey,” I call after him. He turns around. “Do you live here?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know Sophie MacDonald?”
“Sophie? Yeah.”
“Really? Do you know where she is? I used to live with her, in her place up on North Island Road. I just went to see her, and her house is gone.”
The guy rests the chair down and leans against its back. “Yeah, it got turned into vacation condos. Sad.”
“Do you know where Sophie is now?”
He shakes his head. “She moved a couple years ago. About the time that place was built. I didn’t know her very well.” He looks at me a little closer. “You used to live here? When?”
“Thirteen years ago. We’re moving back.”
“Oh yeah?” He smiles at us. “Right on. What are you going to be doing?”
“I’m going to manage the Salt Spring Resort,” I tell him.
He raises his eyebrows. “Oh.” His tone is noticeably cooler.
Scott and I exchange a glance. “Why do you say it like that?” Scott asks.
“I just don’t think that’s very cool.”
“Why not?” I ask. My heart’s pounding. The group by the counter is laughing and joking back and forth.
“Ray Winter owns that place.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Everyone knows Ray, and what he’s doing to the island.” He stops and gives me a strange look. “Have you met him? Do you know who he is?”
I shake my head and look at Scott. His brow’s furrowed. “No. I mean, yes, I met him, but I don’t know him. What’s wrong with him? What’s he doing to the island?”
The guy leans over and rests his arms on the back of the chair. He doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. “It’s not just Ray. It’s guys like him, too. But Ray’s probably the worst of them. They buy up all the land and small businesses and commercialize them. They push and take as much as they can. Break rules whenever they can. Ray bought a piece of land on St. Mary’s Lake and turned it into a bunch of RV sites and sold them all off. The land can’t handle that kind of population and the septic system wasn’t up to code and it polluted the lake, and he knew about it, and didn’t fix it. Stuff like that. He doesn’t care.”
My heart’s sinking as he talks. I’m supposed to work for this guy.
“And Salt Spring Resort,” the guy continues, “well, you must know if you lived here before, it was one of the coolest resorts on the island. A ma and pa place. Ray bought that last year and he’s been tearing down all the rustic cabins and building these luxury places. That’s not what this island’s about. He’s selling us out.”
“I didn’t realize he was tearing cabins down.”
He nods. “He’s the one who tore down Sophie’s place, too, and built those vacation condos.” He looks like he could go on, but he doesn’t. My expression probably stops him. I can only imagine what my face looks like if it’s even half as horrified as I’m feeling right now. He gives us a small, sympathetic smile, picks up the chair he came over to borrow, and joins his friends at a crowded table in the corner.
Scott and I finish our drinks in silence and walk out of the coffee shop, through the park, and back to our rental car. I climb in behind the wheel and shut the door, but I don’t start the car.
“What do you think?” Scott says, softly, after a few minutes.
I turn the key and back out of the spot. “I don’t know.”
I drive out to the road and turn toward the resort, but I don’t know if I can go. I don’t think I can. But how can I not? This is our chance to live on Salt Spring. What else would we do?
The road is so familiar. I know exactly where the resort is. We pass where I used to live, Sophie’s old farmhouse, which has been erased. Over the hill, around the corner, the resort is ahead on the left. A giant wooden sign welcomes us to Salt Spring Resort, “where your spirit soars.” I pull in and park in front of the office.
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