“Really?”
“Yes, indeed, my fair lady. To a fine German restaurant called Ingrids.” Martin was thoroughly amusing himself with how dashing he’d suddenly become. He was inclined to throw in a British accent.
“Sounds romantic, Martin. You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
He took her arm and guided her to the door. “If I thought any more about this, I’d need another head.”
Ainsley watched from the kitchen as Dr. Hoover hovered over Melb in the living room. She couldn’t see Melb. The back of the couch was in the way. All she could see was her dark curly hair sticking off one end of the couch, and her tennis shoes on the other side. If Dr. Hoover’s facial expression was any indication, this was serious.
He finally stood upright and packed his doctor’s bag. He turned off the lamp and joined Ainsley in the kitchen.
“Is she going to be all right?” Ainsley could hardly hold back tears.
“All her vitals are good. But she absolutely must rest. For at least two weeks. I don’t want—”
The front door flew open, and Oliver rushed in. “Where is she?”
Dr. Hoover put his finger to his mouth and beckoned Oliver into the kitchen. Oliver’s eyes grew wider with each step. “Is she okay?” Oliver almost whispered.
Dr. Hoover put a steady hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “She’s fine. She’s sleeping, which is exactly what she should be doing. I was just explaining to Ainsley that Melb really needs to take it easy for the next couple of weeks. She’s probably been exerting herself. Maybe trying to get the nursery ready or shopping for the baby’s clothes.”
Oliver shook his head. “No. She’s been too tired to do anything.”
“Dr. Hoover, could stress have contributed to this?”
“Sure. She shouldn’t be under any stressful situations right now. She needs to relax. Completely relax.” Dr. Hoover walked toward the front door. “I will call and check on her tomorrow. In the meantime, make sure she eats right and gets plenty of rest.”
Oliver and Ainsley stood in the kitchen, staring at each other. Then they both looked at the couch on which Melb was dozing. Oliver ran a hand down his face. Ainsley touched his arm. “Oliver, don’t worry. I will take care of Melb. She can stay here, I will keep an eye on her and make sure she is resting and eating right.”
“It’s just that this is our big sales week at the store. I have to be there.”
“I completely understand. I promise, she’s in good hands.”
Oliver nodded, hugged Ainsley, and said, “I’ll keep my cell phone on. Call me if you need me.”
“You have a cell phone?”
“Yeah. Haven’t you seen the new store? Call me,” Oliver said. He gave her the number, then headed back out the door. “I’ll be home late tonight. Tell Melb I love her.”
He shut the door quietly. Ainsley leaned against the counter, burying her face in her hands and trying to take some deep breaths. She had two catering events to plan for, and now Melb to look after. But she knew she had to. After all, she’d caused at least some of the stress in Melb’s life.
She looked toward the couch, where the once peacefully slumbering Melb was now sawing logs.
“Lord, help me,” she whispered.
“I want to tell you, Martin,” Lois said as they ate their dinner, “that you’re doing a fantastic job playing Gibb.” She’d had her doubts. Martin, after all, wasn’t exactly heroic-type material. But there was something about the way he’d confidently stepped into the role, like he was born to play it—and the way he was eating that cabbage like he had the intestinal tract of a robot.
She’d decided to forgo the cabbage but was enjoying the sausage. Most of all, she was enjoying Martin. She’d never considered him an interesting man, but now he was. She’d not realized how much effort he’d put into keeping the town alive, and all the trials he’d faced along the way.
He set the impaled cabbage back on his plate and looked at her. “Really?”
“I’m serious. I’m so impressed. You have quite a lot of talent.”
“Talent. Now that’s not something I hear every day.”
“Apparently it reaches far beyond the town hall.”
“I have to admit, I was skeptical. But I’m glad I’m involved now, if only to know you better.”
“I’m glad we’re getting to know each other better,” Lois said. “But I want to take it slow too.”
“So I should take the ring back?” A grin emerged. “Kidding.”
“I knew you were,” Lois smiled back. “You have a good sense of humor.”
“Thanks. I don’t get to use it a lot. Mayor Wullisworth, well, let’s just say he doesn’t do humor. Or irony. Or sarcasm.”
“You’ve worked for him a long time.”
“Yes.”
“So what’s his take on this snake problem? Anything happening?”
“He’s afraid of snakes, so I’m handling it. But there’s not much to handle. We sort of just have to keep everyone calm until the snake shows back up.”
Suddenly, there was a strange noise coming from his breast pocket. He looked as shocked as Lois felt. “Oh!” he said suddenly. He reached in and pulled out a cell phone. He looked at it and said, “Excuse me. It’s the mayor.” He rose from the table and walked to the corner of the restaurant. He was gone for about a minute, then returned. “Sorry,” he said, sliding the phone back into his blazer. “I’m pretty new to this cellphone thing. I don’t know exactly what I’m doing, when I should answer it, et cetera.” He cleared his throat. “The mayor thought I should have one, so he could track me down anytime he wanted, as if he doesn’t already do that.”
“Is everything okay?”
Martin looked a little worried. “Everything’s fine. Nothing that can’t wait until later tonight when we’re finished.”
“Martin, if you need to go, I understand.”
He looked up at her. “No. I want to stay. I’m really enjoying the evening.” “Me too.”
And then his cell phone rang again.
“You should answer it.”
Martin pulled it out of his pocket, hesitated, then answered it. “Yes? Uh-huh … uh-huh … but can’t this wait? … But sir … uh-huh … okay. Good-bye.” He shut his phone and stared at his plate.
“Are you okay?” Lois asked.
“Yeah. But we’d better eat fast. The mayor needs me.”
The foot massage that Ainsley had ordered from Jack Hass had worked. But unfortunately Jack seemed to get sick right there in front of them, so Ainsley sent him home. Melb was practically drooling when Ainsley walked in with the plate of cooked peas and carrots. Melb turned, looked at the plate, and sat up a little. “Who is that for?”
“Dr. Hoover said you have to eat well.”
Melb stared at the steaming vegetables. “What is that?”
“Peas and carrots.”
“I’m going to gag.”
“Melb, if you’re ever going to feel better, you’re going to have to rest and eat right.”
“But peas and carrots? Why can’t we start off with something a little less intimidating, like a cheese steak?”
“I promise, it won’t kill you.”
“At least tell me you put butter on them.”
“No butter.”
Melb sighed and laid back down. “I think I’d rather be dead.”
Ainsley pulled up a chair next to the couch. “Look, I’ll make you a deal. If you eat this plate of carrots and peas, I’ll let you have a cookie.”
“A cookie? What kind?” “I’ve got chocolate chip and oatmeal.”
Melb’s face lit up. But as soon as she looked at the plate, her enthusiasm wilted. She was shaking her head vigorously.
“C’mon,” Ainsley moaned. “It’s just one plateful. You can do it.”
“I can’t.”
“Then no cookie.”
Melb sighed loudly. Ainsley heard Wolfe walk in the front door.
“You think about it,
and I’ll be right back,” Ainsley said. Taking the plate back to the kitchen, she met Wolfe as he was putting his coat up “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said, embracing her. “How was your day?”
“Dramatic. How was yours?”
“Dull.”
“We make a good couple.”
“Do I hear moaning?”
“Long story,” she said, bringing him into the kitchen. “I’m trying to feed Melb carrots and peas.”
Wolfe raised an eyebrow. “Melb can’t feed herself?”
She whispered, “Not if it’s a vegetable, apparently. She passed out today at the grocery store, and Dr. Hoover has ordered her on no stress. I told Oliver I would look after her because he’s got some big thing going at the car lot.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“She has to maintain a stress-free environment. Can you go turn up the heat?”
“Why?”
“She might get cold.”
“It’s a perfectly normal temperature in here.”
“But she’s been lying down all day. That can make a person cold.”
“Ainsley, Melb is fine. Fuss over her a little bit, make her comfortable, but then let her be.”
Ainsley felt tears rush to her eyes. “You don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“I feel responsible.” Ainsley wiped at her face. “You didn’t cause this.” Wolfe turned her toward him.
“You understand that, right?”
“I’ve got to go feed her these vegetables.”
Wolfe stopped her. “Why don’t you let me?”
She couldn’t hold in a laugh. “You?”
“What? I’m just going to take the plate in to her.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Why?”
“You think you’re just going to march in there and give her the peas and carrots, and she’s going to eat them?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I can tell you that she’s not.”
“So what? I’ll just leave the plate there. If she gets hungry, she’ll eat it.”
“You’re just going to let her starve to death?”
Wolfe was chuckling, the kind of chuckle that comes out when you think you’re talking to someone who might have gone insane.
Ainsley grabbed the plate off the counter. “You just don’t understand. I’ll do it. And please, go turn up the heat!”
Alfred gave Doris a short wave as she looked up from her kitchen table and observed Alfred on the phone. Just another minute, he mouthed to her. Doris was currently working on a fourth draft of her manuscript. Alfred had done his research, and he knew the top religious publishers to send it to. He’d strike gold with all three of them, and then it was going to be a matter of dollars and cents.
But his ambitions didn’t stop there. He’d learned a lot in that one-day conference. More than he would’ve liked to, at least a few months ago. However, he was beginning to see that this religious thing Wolfe had gotten himself involved in was quite profitable—the only problem being that his most profitable religiously turned writer wasn’t writing. And he didn’t want to put all his eggs in one Doris Buford basket.
Alfred Tennison had not risen to the top of the industry by watching the literary world pass him by. No, indeed.
“Alfred?”
“I’m here, Geoffery.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting. You know how it is.”
“Of course.”
“Back to your question. No, none of these guys are on my client list. I’ve never heard of any of them.”
Alfred smiled, expecting the superior tone in his voice. “I know. They’re a well-kept secret. But they continue to make the bestsellers list week after week.”
“What bestsellers list?”
“Let’s just say that I’ve found the pot at the end of the rainbow.”
“I wasn’t aware you’d turned to drugs.”
“Pot of gold, Geoffery.”
A moment of silence passed. He figured Geoffery was snickering into his shoulder. Geoffery was a snickerer. Everyone knew it. At parties, he spent half his time with his mouth buried in his shoulder.
But Alfred took the high road. That’s what people on his side of the aisle did. Took the high road. Just like Ellie Sherman. So he waited.
“A pot of gold, eh, Alfred? Last I heard you were bunked with an old college roommate in Queens.”
“I’m doing a lot of traveling.”
“Huh. I haven’t seen you at any parties lately.”
“I don’t party anymore.” Alfred squeezed his eyes shut. Goodness, he was becoming Wolfe’s “mini me.”
More snickering. Alfred felt his chest constrict, holding back the words that wanted to climb out of the bile in his stomach. This was harder than it looked.
“I’ll have you know,” Alfred inserted into the snickering, “that before the month is over, I’m going to acquire a client list worth over fifty million dollars.”
“Interesting.”
“But thank you for your time, Geoffery. Always nice to talk with you.
“Keep in touch, Alfred.”
The line went dead. Alfred turned to Doris. “How’s that scene coming along?”
Doris shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve severed his arm, there’s blood all over the floor, and I’m trying to think of something clever for him to say.”
Alfred nodded. “Excellent. But I don’t think we’re going to get away with blood on the floor. Keep working on it.”
CHAPTER 14
MARTIN TOOK THE MAYOR by the arm and led him into the back hallway. “We need to talk.” Martin closed the door to the room where it seemed the entire town had gathered. It was one of their largest town meetings ever, at the noon hour at least.
“What is it?” the mayor asked. Martin noticed the mayor’s hands were shaking, and he was having trouble concentrating.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“What’s not?”
“What that man suggested. Leonard? Tarffeski? With the weird accent?”
“He’s from New Zealand.”
“First of all, if you put a snake hunter up in front of everyone, you’re going to invite hysteria. People are going to think this is a bigger problem than it really is.”
“This man assured me he’s an expert. He has a good game plan. And you’re the one that agreed to bring him here in the first place. The fact of the matter is that until this stupid snake is caught, our town is not going to sleep well. The sheriff’s office has reported more traffic accidents in the recent days than in our entire town’s history! Plus, if you haven’t noticed, everyone seems to be in a really bad mood.”
“But sir—”
“Martin, trust me. People feel empowered when they have knowledge and a way to help themselves. This Leonard assures me they will have both.”
Martin rubbed his tired eyes. He wasn’t losing sleep over a snake, but he had enough on his mind as it was. “Sure,” he said with a faint smile. “You know best.”
The mayor slammed his hand into Martins back. “Now, let’s get this meeting going. We have a long agenda today.”
The murmuring hushed as the mayor bounded up to the podium. Martin stood a few feet away, eyeing Leonard. Please don’t start a panic, Martin prayed.
“Good afternoon, fellow Skary citizens!” Where was the mayor getting all this energy? “I’m thankful for the great turnout today. I know you all have a lot on your mind, so we’re going to get this meeting started. First of all, you may remember that the last time we gathered, there was some concern over the mysterious soccer field that seemed to emerge overnight. Well, the good news is that we’ve solved the mystery. I’d like to invite to the podium Mrs. Katelyn Downey. She and her husband are developers, and as you may have noticed, our little town does seem to be evolving.”
Martin watched a petite blonde make her way up next to the mayor. A tight baby blue s
ilk suit hugged her small frame. Her purse and shoes matched.
“Katelyn,” the mayor said, “why don’t you address the citizens of Skary? Tell them a little bit about the vision that you shared with me.”
“I’d love to, Mayor Wullisworth.” She patted her hands together as she slid behind the podium. “Let’s hear it for our wonderful mayor!”
The crowd looked confused. Nobody had ever clapped for the mayor before, or been beckoned to do so. Martin led the way hastily, slapping his hands together like a trained seal. The rest of the crowd slowly followed, and then it all died down.
“Well,” Katelyn began, “thank you for that warm welcome. First of all, I’d like to tell you how absolutely in love we are with this beautiful town called Skary. We see so much potential.” She grinned at the entire crowd like everyone there was a personal friend. Martin spotted Lois near the back. He wanted to wave, but her concentration was on the woman up front. “You may have noticed a few wonderful changes around here. I’ve noticed you’ve taken to the cell-phone store. And just let me say, we had to pull a lot of strings to get the company to consider putting a tower up. But luckily for you, you’re near a major highway, so it was in their best interest.
“To answer the mayor’s question, yes, we built the soccer field. Our son, Willem, is a huge soccer fan, and one of the best male players in his preschool league. Sports, as you may know, is an important development tool for young children. It not only helps their motor skills, but what we’re finding is that it also helps their social skills as well.”
Martin studied the crowd. They looked like they were trying to decipher a foreign language.
“We’re just as delighted as we can be about how that coffeehouse has turned out. And we’ve noticed its patrons enjoying a few additional menu items.” She winked, her thick black eyelashes sticking together momentarily. “As you may have noticed, we’ve broken ground on our new home, and it will hopefully be ready in just a few short months. In the meantime, we’ll continue to invest in Skary, and bring about change in a way that will make this little town the It place of all X-burbs!”
Boo Hiss Page 11