Page 84 of When Sparks Fly
“I’ll be brave enough for both of us,” he whispered, leaning forward to brush a kiss against her hair. “But you have to take that next step on your own.”
She dropped her forehead onto his shoulder and sighed. She was overthinking this. But Mike was willing to wait for her to think straight, instead of in circles. She raised her head and smiled.
“Just a little more time. Let me talk to Hazel. And let’s deal with this zoning nightmare. That sounds like I’m putting you off, but...”
“One battle at a time. I get it. I’m not going anywhere.” He shrugged. “Well, I’m going somewhere right now. I’m going to the town clerk’s office to do some more research.” He tapped her nose lightly with his finger. “We’ve got this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“ITOLDHERwe got this.” Mike tossed a sheaf of papers across his grandmother’s dining room table. “But I’m not sure we do.”
His grandmother and her book club pals sat around the table in silence, watching him rant.
“The way the zoning laws were rewritten back in the seventies is making this like putting together a jigsaw puzzle upside down, so you can’t see the picture. I need an angle to argue, but I can’t find one.”
“That’s a shame,” Iris Taggart said, “but I still don’t know what you think wecan do.You’rethe attorney.”
“I think you meant to sayattorney boytoy,” Rick added helpfully.
Mike ignored him. He’d gotten used to hearing his new nickname, thanks to Hazel. “You’ve all been around longer than me. You have knowledge, and maybe some influence, that I don’t.” He hesitated. “And... I’m desperate.”
His grandmother smiled softly. “You think you have to win this thing to get Zoey back?”
“No.” He frowned. “Maybe. Ipromisedher, but I haven’t found anything yet that’s a slam dunk for the town board meeting tomorrow.”
Cecile reached out and grabbed the scattered documents. She started sorting them and handing them around the table. “Okay, everyone take a few pages and let’s see what we can find. It’ll be like those lawyer shows on TV, where the paralegal finds the detail that turns the case around!”
Everyone took a few pages as ordered, including Mike. He’d been over this stuff a dozen times. Technically, the repair shopcouldbe considered commercial property. And technically, thanks to Zoey’s father, the landwaszoned residential. And technically, the zoning laws narrowed the definitions of residential and commercial, limiting what could be grandfathered in.
So technically... Mike might be screwed.
He and Zoey had talked only once since she’d handed him the certified letter, and it was about the case, not their relationship. Mike made sure of that. He didn’t want her feeling pressured, because he knew it could make her withdraw even further.Like Logan had said, a good mom isalwaysgoing to be willing to sacrifice her own happiness for her kids’ sake. Even when she doesn’t need to.
Iris, her glasses low on her nose, looked over the rim at Mike. “You saying we have knowledge you don’t was a lawyerly way of saying we’re old. But it’s true that some of us have had our run-ins with the town board and annoying neighbors through our many years on the planet.” She nodded toward the file. “A historic declaration can shut down a lot of arguments.”
“You mean having her place declared a historic landmark?” Mike asked. “That might help, but...on what grounds? It’s an old Victorian, but so are three-quarters of the houses in town.”
“I remember Zoey’s grandfather—not her dad, buthisdad...”
Vickie made a face. “That’s generally how grandfathers work, Iris.”
“I’m just making a point, Victoria.” Iris scowled, then continued. “The point is Rob’s dad started the appliance repair business, buthisdad—Rob’s grandfather—was a blacksmith. And he worked out of that shop. And I’m pretty sure the earlier Hartford generations did the same.”
Mike remembered seeing a giant anvil in the back corner of the barn. “So you’re thinking if the barn was always used as a business...for generations...that mightsway the zoning board.” He jotted some notes on his tablet. “That might work. Let’s see if we can find any mention of that in these papers.”
Rick Thomas pulled out his phone. “Papers-schmapers. Let’s look online. What’s the address up there again? If I search that against blacksmiths and Hartfords, I might find something.”
While Rick scrolled, the rest of them read line after line of census information, deeds and property tax records on the farm. They may not have enough proof to declare the property had always been a business, but they might have enough to earn a zoning exemption. The zoning board had the ability to exempt certain properties from zoning rules, but they had to have a good reason.
Nana reached over and patted his arm. “There’s nothing this town likes more than its own stories, Michael. We’ll appeal to their history-loving little hearts, don’t you worry.”
Helen Russo nodded. “She’s right. And if we pack the room with supporters for Zoey, that can’t hurt. Those old cronies on the board don’t like conflict, so if the crowd wants Zoey to get an exemption, they’ll listen.”
“But what if that awful Schiff woman wants to pack the room withhersupporters?” Cecile asked. There was a beat of silence.
“First,” Vickie started. “I don’t think Karen Schiffhasa roomful of friends. She’s the only one who’s complained, and I’ve yet to meet anyone who knows her well, much less agrees with her.”
“Hmmph,” Iris sniffed. “I heard she’s such a snob that she doesn’twantto know any of the locals. So good luck filling a room with her supporters.”