Eli accompanied her back to the art room. “How’re your pieces coming?”
“Okay, I guess. Still trying to figure out the last one.”
Eli was an artist, too—a sculptor. He stopped in front of her two finished canvases. After a few moments of silent evaluation, he said, “They’re really good.”
Crystal wasn’t sure how much of the assessment was tied to his feelings for her, but she told him, “Thanks.”
“Do you want to catch a movie tonight?”
The only movie theater was in Franklin. “Who else is going?”
“Just us.”
“Is this like a date?”
He gave her a shrug. “Yeah. Sure.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not dating you, Eli. We’re friends.”
“But you’d go out with that Diego guy.”
“Maybe.”
“Because he rides a motorcycle? Amari says he never even finished high school.”
“So.”
“So? You want a man dumber than you?”
He had a point, but Crystal wasn’t about to admit it. “I’m not dating you. And I came over here to work, so is there anything else?”
“No.”
“Then bye. I’ll see you later.”
He walked out.
She sighed. Boys.
On Monday morning, Bernadine Brown arrived at her office well ahead of her executive assistant and town administrator Lily Fontaine July. Because of the long hours Bernadine kept, many people joked that she didn’t sleep. She did, though; in spite of Henry Adams’s small-town status, there was enough going on every day to fill up three days in a normal place, so a good night’s sleep was required to stay on top of things and not lose her mind.
Getting in early gave her a moment to catch her breath, say her prayers, and look over the day’s agenda so she could hit the ground running when the building opened for business. The residents called the town’s administrative offices the Power Plant because it was the seat of power. Nothing happened without her input or approval. Were Henry Adams larger, more administrative staff might be needed, but at its current size, Bernadine, Lily, and the town’s mayor, Trent, were enough to keep the ship on an even keel.
At precisely eight o’clock, Lily stuck her head in Bernadine’s door. “Morning, Bernadine.”
“Morning, Lil. How are you?”
“I’d be better if I wasn’t living in a house full of men.”
Lily and Trent had been married in November. After the honeymoon they’d combined households. Trent promised to build her a private room where she could escape all the testosterone emanating from him and their two sons, Devon and Amari, but so far the weather and his duties had kept him from starting the construction.
“You know you love your men.”
“I do, but what I don’t love is going to the bathroom in the middle of the night and almost falling in because a certain mayor forgot to put the seat down—again. Told him he’d be building me my own bathroom, too.”
Bernadine knew Lily was just fussing. The former Henry Adams high school track and field queen loved her husband and sons as much as she loved breathing. “So what’s on your plate today?”
“Typing up the agenda for tonight’s town meeting and then putting on my hard hat and boots so I can walk the construction sites. I’ll see what else shows up as the day goes along. How about you?”
“Sheila and I will be meeting about the groundbreaking festivities for the new church and her plans for this year’s August First festivities. At eleven I’m scheduled to talk to Franklin’s mayor about something or other, and Katie’s flying in Jim Edison. His firm’s handling this mess with Leo.”
Leo Brown was Bernadine’s ex-husband, and the snake in her Henry Adams paradise. He and his oil company bosses were attempting to make a land grab, claiming eminent domain in order to run a pipeline from Canada to Mexico. Problem was, the land was legally owned by local farmers, who were none too pleased with the company’s intimidation tactics. According to the reports she’d been getting from her people, it appeared as if the oil snakes and their lawyers were having a hard time prevailing in court, but she wanted to talk to Jim Edison, the high-powered legal eagle she’d hired to protect the farmers’ interests, and get his thoughts on where the case stood.
“What time’s he due in?”
“Around two this afternoon. I’d like for you and His Honor to sit in.”
“Not a problem. I’ll let Trent know.”
“Thanks. Anything else we need to do before we start the day?” Bernadine asked.
“No. I think we’re good.”
Lily made her exit, and Bernadine powered up her laptop to check her e-mail before Sheila arrived. The first message was from construction supervisor Warren Kelly. He wanted to add two more bodies to the cleanup crews, and she sent him back a message giving her approval.
After buying Henry Adams off eBay, Bernadine had made it a point to hire as many local people as she could in an effort to help the area’s flat-line economy. It had proven to be a wise choice. Under Kelly’s direction, the contractors worked hard, and the pride they took in their craft was evident in everything they built, from the houses in the subdivision where she lived to the new recreation center to the town’s awesome, jaw-dropping school. Her dream of revitalizing Henry Adams would never have borne fruit had it not been for her dedicated workers, and she counted them as one of her many blessings.
At a bit past nine o’clock, Sheila Payne knocked on her opened door.
“Hey, Sheila. Come on in.”
Bernadine loved the confidence Sheila appeared to have gained since being named head of social affairs. The woman who’d acted afraid of her own shadow when the Paynes first came to town was no more.
They spent a few moments discussing her thoughts on how she wanted Saturday’s groundbreaking to go, and once that subject was done, they moved on to the August First celebration.
“Tamar wants a July Fourth celebration this year instead of August First. She’s decided we need to alternate.”
Bernadine might own Henry Adams, but Tamar ruled like Good Queen Bess ruling England. “Did she say whether she wants a parade, cookout?”
“Cookout, yes, and Henry Adams Idol, too.”
“Like the television show?”
“Apparently.”
“I may regret saying this, but that sounds like a great idea.”
“But I don’t know anything about hosting something like that. I do dinners and receptions—things with tablecloths and china.”
Sheila looked so distraught, Bernadine had to suppress a smile. “Roni will be back in a few weeks—have her be one of the judges. Mal and Clay play instruments, and you know Siz over at the diner has a band. Have them help you out.”
“I’m supposed to be in charge of social affairs, Bernadine, and holiday celebrations falls under that.”
“I know, Sheila, but do you really want to take on Tamar?”
“No.”
“Me either, so guess it’ll be Henry Adams Idol for the Fourth of July.”
Sheila didn’t look happy.
“Think of it as something unique to add to your résumé.”
Sheila cut her a look.
Bernadine shrugged. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I have.”
Sheila sighed audibly. “Okay. My hissy fit’s over. Henry Adams Idol it will be. I’ll do my best to make it shine, but if it turns out to be a debacle, I’m washing my hands like Pilate right now.”
“Duly noted.”
Sheila stood. “I’ll make the announcement at the town meeting this evening.”
“Sounds good.”
Starting toward the door, she said, “Let the madness begin.”
“It’s going to be fine. Oh, and before you go—has Preston opened that e-mail yet?”
“No—I think he’s moving toward it, though. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thanks.”
r />
Sheila departed, leaving Bernadine to ponder what the e-mail from Preston’s biological grandmother might say. It also brought back to mind Dr. Winthrop’s parting warning about Lenore Crenshaw. Although Bernadine had kept her promise and not contacted Winthrop again, she didn’t feel good about it. In her mind, Preston had a right to at least know his mother’s name.
Because there was no solution to that problem for now, Bernadine’s mind switched gears to Tamar’s Fourth of July event. Henry Adams Idol. Bernadine still liked the idea, but as always, she harbored concerns over what might happen before, during, or after the competition. In Henry Adams, events like the one Tamar was proposing had a tendency to get out of hand. She only had to look back at the chaos caused by the innocent-sounding pet parade idea Amari’d come up with the last time they celebrated August First. Add to that the memorable visit of the Oklahoma Julys during Lily and Trent’s wedding last fall, and it was a wonder she wasn’t already packing up to leave town, but both functions had turned out fine in the end, and this one would too.
She turned back to her desktop but froze when she heard, “Morning, Bernie.”
Leo.
She eyed him coolly. “What do you want?”
He was dressed as impeccably as always, in a dark green summer-weight silk suit.
“Just stopped in to say good-bye. Your lawyers have been kicking my company’s ass so thoroughly, we’ve decided to cut our losses and not throw any more money down the toilet. You win, Bernadine. We’re pulling up stakes, and you can rest easy, knowing you’ve saved your hick farmers from the evil empire.”
“Good. Are you saying good-bye to Marie, too?”
When he first came to town two years ago, he’d wanted them to reconcile, but when Bernadine told him to kick rocks, he began seeing Marie Jefferson.
“Ah, the little schoolmarm. Another item to cross off the balance sheet.”
He’d dropped Marie when she refused to sell him her land. Bernadine wondered if she could beat him to death with something on her desk—maybe the stapler—and plead temporary insanity. “Why would you treat her that way?”
“How’s that old seventies tune go? If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.”
He was truly disgusting.
“Still love you, Bernie—probably always will. Going to salve my broken heart with a little honey I met last week in Santa Barbara. Wish me luck?”
“Get out,” she snarled softly.
“I’m going, but just a word of advice. Not everybody’s happy with your court victory. Some of those farmers were counting on that money we were going to give them, so I’d watch my back if I were you. Ciao, beautiful. I’ll see you around.”
He winked and made his exit, leaving behind the lingering scent of his expensive cologne.
Bernadine fumed, then gave his parting salvo some thought. Until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to her that providing the lawyers for the farmers’ suit might result in enemies, but thinking on it now, she admitted that Leo could be right. The rising economy was slowly making its way across the nation, but few farmers were feeling any relief. The escalating cost of fuel and equipment, coupled with the backbreaking debts many agricultural families continued to carry, probably made the money Leo’s company promised seem like a godsend. Now, thanks to the lawsuit, her lawyers, and the state agencies that threw in on their side because of the oil company’s abysmal environmental record, it was gone.
However she’d not heard anything from Bing or his friends about anyone being mad at her, so she put the thoughts aside and chalked it up to Leo just being himself and trying to stir her up.
Bernadine’s next visitor was Austin Wiggins, the new mayor of Franklin. The old mayor had resigned after a prank played on him and his wife by some of the Oklahoma Julys during their visit last Thanksgiving, which resulted in him breaking his arm and divorcing his wife of twenty-five years.
Wiggins wasn’t someone she liked. She assumed the feeling was mutual, but he pretended otherwise. Since meeting her over the winter, he’d made a point of pestering her to let him in on whatever she had planned for Henry Adams’s future. He was an elected official, he reasoned, born and raised in the county, and knew much more about what the two communities needed to make the region viable again than she.
He entered wearing his plastic smile and a black suit shiny from too many trips to the dry cleaner. The too-short jacket matched the flood-length pants, but nothing in nature, living or dead, matched the jet-black toupee on his head. He saw himself as suave and handsome; everyone else saw him for the pudgy, bad-toupee-wearing know-nothing that he was in reality.
“Ms. Brown,” he called cheerily. “How are you, hon?”
She hated being called “hon,” and had politely pointed this out on more than a few occasions. He’d either chosen to ignore it, or was suffering from amnesia. Her bet was on the former. “What can I do for you?”
Because she hadn’t offered him a chair, he stood, seemingly caught between taking a seat anyway and waiting for her to make the offer. She didn’t move.
“Um.” He finally sat, and the plastic smile returned. “I was checking out all the construction going on. You folks are busy as bees over here.”
“We’re pleased with the progress.”
“I hear you’re going to be opening a health clinic soon.”
“Yes.”
“The two docs in Franklin have been talking about building a clinic for years.”
“I hope they do well with theirs.”
“Economically, there’s no reason to have two such facilities in the area.”
“Have you told them that?”
His lips thinned, letting her know that wasn’t the response he’d been after. Why he thought she’d abandon a clinic scheduled to open next week to allow two doctors in Franklin to continue to talk about building one was beyond her. Then again, she was dealing with a man wearing an imitation black squirrel on his head.
“Mayor Wiggins, I have a very tight schedule today. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. We have the opportunity to have a Big Box built in Franklin.”
“Congratulations. How soon will you break ground?”
“Soon as we can get good-faith funds from all the nearby communities.”
She studied him silently for a moment. “Good-faith funds?”
“Yes. If we help subsidize the store’s building costs, the parent company promises to bring jobs and low prices.”
“And if we don’t?”
“They move elsewhere.”
She wanted to wave bye-bye, but decided that would be rude. “And how much are they asking?”
“From Franklin and Henry Adams, two-point-six million.”
“Is that all?”
“I knew that wouldn’t be a problem for you,” he declared, grinning widely.
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Oh.”
Inwardly, she shook her head. “Henry Adams will have to pass on Big Box’s wonderful offer, Mayor Wiggins. We have other priorities at the moment.”
“But this is Big Box, hon. They’re one of the biggest corporations in the good old U.S. of A.”
“I’m aware of that, but we have other priorities, hon.”
He turned cranberry red.
“Is there anything else?” She wanted him gone.
“Why are you turning down this opportunity?”
“We plan to build our own supermarket right here in town.” It was a lie, but it came to her that a grocery was needed, so she decided, Why not? Local residents were having to drive hither, thither, and yon to stock their refrigerators and pantries. Better to spend that money at home.
“But you can’t,” he protested.
“Sure I can. It’s one of those other priorities I just mentioned. Hope to have it up and running before the fall.”
“But if the Big Box gets built, they aren’t going to want competition.”
“Not my problem.” r />
“You won’t be able to match their prices,” he countered, with distress in his voice and face. “They’ll crush you.”
“Maybe, but this is the good old U.S. of A., and if I want to try something, I’m allowed.”
He hadn’t like the idea of a Henry Adams health clinic, and by the look on his pumpkin-round face, he disliked the grocer idea even less. Too bad.
He got to his feet and tried one last time. “Ms. Brown, I’d appreciate it if you’d give the Big Box proposal more thought. Maybe talk it over with Mayor July. I’m sure he’ll be able to see the benefits of throwing in on this.”
“Even if I don’t?”
“Mayor July was born here. You weren’t.”
“Get out of my office.”
He puffed up as if planning to confront her, but she wasn’t having any, especially not from a little jerk with a squirrel on his head.
“And to save you the trouble of thinking I may change my mind. My answer on Big Box is no, now and forever.”
She swung her chair around to face her laptop. The slamming of her office door signaled his exit.
Lily entered a few seconds later. She had on her construction boots and carried a yellow hard hat in her hand. “On my way to walk the sites with Trent and Mr. Kelly. What did Mayor Piggly Wiggly want?”
“Two-point-six million dollars.”
“For what?”
Bernadine explained.
Lily shook her head. “Big Box’s nothing but a dollar store with groceries.”
“Which is why I declined his offer. Thought maybe we’d build our own store instead.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”
“Think you can pull together a feasibility plan and get it to me in a few days?”
“To have a place to shop in town—oh, yes, ma’am. Folks around here will build a statue in your honor if we can make this happen.”