Everyone in Moose Harbor, Maine was cranky.  During the last week, rain had fallen for the past three days and three nights.  The ground was saturated and it was like mud season all over again.  Saturday morning, some of the braver townspeople had gathered at Kathleen's Kitchen to drink coffee, maybe grab one of the local restaurant's delicious breakfast sandwiches or a stack of blueberry pancakes, and gripe about the weather.
    "The Daze of Summer Clambake on Carefree Isle is scheduled for July 15th, and that's only three weeks away.  This rain's got to stop soon."  Sandra Bradeen pointed an accusatory finger at the window streaked with raindrops.  "I'm running out of recycled rain gear at My Sister's Closet."
    A frown creased Kellie Dyer's brow.  "Who's going to buy ice cream if they have to eat it huddled under an umbrella?"
    "Maybe someone will come in for a rain slicker for their dog, but I doubt it."  Usually positive and upbeat, Heather Bucklin's voice verged on a whine, echoing some of her canine customers.
    "No one is buying art supplies."  Brett Greenlaw waved a hand in Topher Adams' direction.
    "Because no one is sitting outside painting, especially water colors.  They'd turn into a muddle."
    "And no one will risk buying a painting, especially a water color. "
    Topher merely rolled his eyes.
    Tamara Grissom heaved a loud sigh  "This is supposed to be the beginning of the busy season at the B&B."  She added another heaping spoonful of sugar into her coffee.  "I've already had one reservation cancel, and I bet it's not the last."
    Rachel Farnham pinched the bridge of her nose.  "I had a birthday cake order for a kids' outdoor party back out.  Hopefully, it's just a postponement."
    Miguel Garcia rifled his hands through his hair.  "The only customers I've had for the past couple of days are people who've run out of staples like milk and eggs."
    Marc Goode shrugged.  "I've had customers at the hardware store, but they're hunting for leak-patching materials and outdoor rubber doormats.  No big-ticket items."
    "No good at the garage, either."  Jason shook his head.  "I guess no one wants to even walk from their house to the car."
    "Business is okay at the Rusty Scupper," Ryan Dixon said, "but that's not necessarily a good thing.  People are drowning their sorrows faster than the rain's comin' down.  If this keeps up, we'll be needin' a recovery center here in town."
    Tray in hand, Kathleen Bodwell brought coffee refills and a complimentary selection of donuts.  "Truth be told, you folks are the biggest group I've had this week."  
    Vernon Harmon shook his head.  "There's nothing else to do but drink coffee.  Or beer."  He nodded at Ryan.  "This weather isn't conducive to people scheduling shore dinners or clambakes.  So, no sales for us either.   Vern ran the generations-old Moose Harbor Seafood Co-op.  He glanced at Miguel.  "We're all in the same boat.  Pun intended."
    Just then, Mia Landry and Jasmin Muller, frequently referred to by friends as "in the know" and by others in the town as "the gossip girls", pushed open the door, their cut-off t-shirts and black jeans beaded with water.
Mia brushed aside the dark, wet strands of hair clinging to her face.  "Have you heard?"
    "The Black Ledge Narrows Footbridge just collapsed!" Jasmin scooped Mia to be the first to spill the news.
They looked at each other and squealed, whether out of fear or excitement, it was hard to tell.  Both girls pulled out their phones, thumbs flying over their screens as they started texting.

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