school going, maybe even get enough to support opening a junior high.”
“Ever thought about holding an auction for the big ticket items? Although I’d appreciate it if you’d keep from making that particular suggestion until I get my hands on the Bell helicopter.”
Coop grinned. “Someone already came up with that idea. But look around you. It would take a massive amount of organization, someone would have to go through every single piece of machinery and catalogue it. Maybe one day, the right person will come along with enough time to do that. But for now, I don’t see it happening.”
“It’s a shame the old guy had to die.” She spread her arms out wide, turned a circle. “Just look, after years of collecting all this, probably driving for miles to pick it up and going to the trouble of hauling it back here, this is his legacy. It makes you wonder about things.”
“It often makes me wonder how I’ll be remembered, what legacy I’ll leave. Makes me want to do better.”
“Good point. Because I guess we could all do so much better.”
To break the melancholy atmosphere, Cooper asked, “So what would you like to do now?”
“What are my choices?”
“We could take a tour of the local Chumash Museum. It’s something River’s worked really hard getting open, something the town’s really proud of.”
“Okay. I’d also like to take a look at the mammals inside the Fanning Marine Rescue Center. Cord’s been bugging me to do that since I got here. After that, I’ll show you around the lighthouse.”
It never occurred to Coop to mention that he’d already been up to the cliff at least a dozen times already. But the truth was, he’d never been up there with her.
At the moment, that was all that mattered.
For the rest of that day, Cooper showed off all that Pelican Pointe had to offer in the way of things to do.
Their first stop was the museum where they spent two hours picking their way past glass cases that held cultural artifacts—hunting tools, assorted beaded necklaces, cookware. They studied exhibits, even watched a video demonstration, a vivid depiction that showed how the Chumash had lived for thousands of years along the same stretch of beach they all enjoyed now.
“Brent’s wife dug all this stuff up out of the ground?” Eastlyn asked as she examined a series of rudimentary bowls and eating utensils. “What a fascinating job to have, uncovering all these old things.”
“The dig in town is what originally brought her to the area,” Cooper explained. “All this is what River’s team excavated from the site.”
She stared at the large canoe called a tomol that hung from the rafters down to eye level. “They used these things to paddle across the bay and into the ocean to fish.”
“Which reminds me I’m getting hungry. How about we go across the street to Perry Altman’s restaurant for lunch?”
She looked down at her jeans, still grimy from their excursion at Cleef’s. “The fancy place with a view of the water? That’d be great but I’m not really dressed for anything so formal.”
She looped her arm through his. “Instead of eating inside, it’s a pretty day, why don’t we take advantage of that and pick up food and eat at the lighthouse?”
“Now you’re talking. We could buy sandwich fixins at Murphy’s, grab a nice bottle of wine if you don’t consider it too early in the day.”
“Soft drinks might be the way to go.”
“Soda it is. So what will it be? Greasy cheeseburgers-to-go at the diner, or head to Murphy’s for ham and cheese? What’s your pleasure?”
Arm in arm, they strolled out of the museum and headed toward the car.
After sniffing the air, Eastlyn decided, “I’m in the mood for that greasy hamburger and a chocolate malt.”
“Looks like it’s the Hilltop Diner then. We should really get pie. Margie makes a mighty fine apple pie. And it is Sunday.”
“What does Sunday have to do with pie?”
“No Sunday should
“Ever thought about holding an auction for the big ticket items? Although I’d appreciate it if you’d keep from making that particular suggestion until I get my hands on the Bell helicopter.”
Coop grinned. “Someone already came up with that idea. But look around you. It would take a massive amount of organization, someone would have to go through every single piece of machinery and catalogue it. Maybe one day, the right person will come along with enough time to do that. But for now, I don’t see it happening.”
“It’s a shame the old guy had to die.” She spread her arms out wide, turned a circle. “Just look, after years of collecting all this, probably driving for miles to pick it up and going to the trouble of hauling it back here, this is his legacy. It makes you wonder about things.”
“It often makes me wonder how I’ll be remembered, what legacy I’ll leave. Makes me want to do better.”
“Good point. Because I guess we could all do so much better.”
To break the melancholy atmosphere, Cooper asked, “So what would you like to do now?”
“What are my choices?”
“We could take a tour of the local Chumash Museum. It’s something River’s worked really hard getting open, something the town’s really proud of.”
“Okay. I’d also like to take a look at the mammals inside the Fanning Marine Rescue Center. Cord’s been bugging me to do that since I got here. After that, I’ll show you around the lighthouse.”
It never occurred to Coop to mention that he’d already been up to the cliff at least a dozen times already. But the truth was, he’d never been up there with her.
At the moment, that was all that mattered.
For the rest of that day, Cooper showed off all that Pelican Pointe had to offer in the way of things to do.
Their first stop was the museum where they spent two hours picking their way past glass cases that held cultural artifacts—hunting tools, assorted beaded necklaces, cookware. They studied exhibits, even watched a video demonstration, a vivid depiction that showed how the Chumash had lived for thousands of years along the same stretch of beach they all enjoyed now.
“Brent’s wife dug all this stuff up out of the ground?” Eastlyn asked as she examined a series of rudimentary bowls and eating utensils. “What a fascinating job to have, uncovering all these old things.”
“The dig in town is what originally brought her to the area,” Cooper explained. “All this is what River’s team excavated from the site.”
She stared at the large canoe called a tomol that hung from the rafters down to eye level. “They used these things to paddle across the bay and into the ocean to fish.”
“Which reminds me I’m getting hungry. How about we go across the street to Perry Altman’s restaurant for lunch?”
She looked down at her jeans, still grimy from their excursion at Cleef’s. “The fancy place with a view of the water? That’d be great but I’m not really dressed for anything so formal.”
She looped her arm through his. “Instead of eating inside, it’s a pretty day, why don’t we take advantage of that and pick up food and eat at the lighthouse?”
“Now you’re talking. We could buy sandwich fixins at Murphy’s, grab a nice bottle of wine if you don’t consider it too early in the day.”
“Soft drinks might be the way to go.”
“Soda it is. So what will it be? Greasy cheeseburgers-to-go at the diner, or head to Murphy’s for ham and cheese? What’s your pleasure?”
Arm in arm, they strolled out of the museum and headed toward the car.
After sniffing the air, Eastlyn decided, “I’m in the mood for that greasy hamburger and a chocolate malt.”
“Looks like it’s the Hilltop Diner then. We should really get pie. Margie makes a mighty fine apple pie. And it is Sunday.”
“What does Sunday have to do with pie?”
“No Sunday should
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