than some of them, actually.”
I force myself to smile. I know I’m doing a lousy job of concealing my own disappointment, despite how chin-up everyone around me looks.
“It’s more money than we had last week, at least,” I say.
“That’s right,” agrees Rosa. “It is.”
But we’re all smiling through our frustration. Especially Quint and I, who put hours and hours into that event. We tried so hard.
“But remember,” says Rosa, “the purpose of the cleanup wasn’t to raise money. It’s far more important that we filled eleven huge trash bags with garbage that otherwise would have been going right out into our oceans.”
I nod. “Plus, one of our big priorities right now is to raise awareness, and for a lot of people in our community, this was the first time they heard about us. And I like to think we made a pretty good first impression.”
“Absolutely,” says Rosa. “We should all be proud of what we accomplished this weekend.”
A few volunteers start to clap and it’s a struggle for me to swallow back my bitter disappointment and believe my own words. I still feel like I failed. Three hundred and sixty-four dollars. I don’t even know if that’s enough money to buy a day’s worth of fish.
But wallowing about it won’t fix anything.
“On that note.” I take in a deep breath and clasp my hands together. “The beach cleanup and some of the outreach we’ve started doing, such as the website and social media pages that Quint has been building”—I gesture at Quint and he responds with an elaborate bow—“are all a part of the foundation on which we are going to build a thriving nonprofit.”
So, fine. One event didn’t save the center, but we all knew it wouldn’t.
I’m not done yet.
“Plus, I’ve already started planning our next big fundraiser,” I continue. “And I know it’s going to be an enormous success.”
I can sense Quint watching me, and I feel a twinge of guilt. I probably should have talked to him about this before bringing it up to the whole staff.
Rosa starts gathering up the money, tying rubber bands around the dollars to keep them organized. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Prudence, but maybe we can celebrate one accomplishment before moving on to the next? We still have a lot of work to be doing around here, you know.”
“No,” I say fervently. Then I hesitate. “I mean, yes, of course, taking care of the animals is number one. Always. But now that we have people talking about us, we can’t lose this momentum. Strike while the iron is hot! And I already have the perfect idea.”
Rosa sighs and I can see her preparing to hit the pause button on whatever I’m about to say, so I rush forward, grinning excitedly, my hands flashing through the air as I look around at the other volunteers. “We are going to host an end-of-summer fundraising gala!”
There are a few raised eyebrows, a few confused frowns, plenty of curious smiles.
Beside me, Quint murmurs, “Gala? I thought we decided against that.”
I glance at him. “I’ve had a change of heart.”
One eyebrow shoots up, and that confirms it. I definitely should have discussed this with him first. But … too late now.
The idea came to me right after the beach cleanup and I’ve spent the last few evenings making plans. I wish I had a fancy report or presentation board that I could use to convey all my ideas, but for now I’ll just have to get everyone on board through my persuasive exuberance.
“We’ll find a nice venue to host us, with live music and a fancy cocktail hour followed by a three-course dinner … The best part is that the opportunities to raise money are endless. We can have a raffle or a silent auction or both! And we’ll sell tickets to the event, plus I’ve been reading about this fundraising tactic called a ‘dessert dash’ that I know will be a hit, and—”
“Okay, okay,” says Rosa, raising her hands. “That all sounds great, of course. But it also sounds expensive. Maybe it’s something we can consider for next year, when things aren’t so tight.”
“No, no, we can do it! That’s the thing—if we do things right, we’ll hardly have to pay a dime. I’ll get donations from local companies for the auction items, and sponsorships from businesses and community leaders. I can make it work.”
I can see Rosa waffling, her face crinkled with hesitation.
“Trust me,” I say more forcefully now. “I’ll make it work.” I hadn’t