Lena’s Lucky Charm: Love in Holiday Junction, Book 2

by Franklin, Tami

  “Hi, Lou,” she said.

  “Chelsea, how are you?” The woman pulled her into a hug, her spiky blonde hair tickling Chelsea's cheek.

  “Fine, thanks,” she replied. “Sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but could you spare a moment?”

  “Of course. I hope nothing's wrong.”

  “No, no. Nothing like that.” Chelsea waved a hand. “I'd just like to ask for your help with something.” She hesitated, glancing back toward the church. “Are Mandy and Anne around?”

  “Ah,” Lou said with a knowing smile. “So it's very specific help you're looking for.”

  Chelsea straightened her pink suit jacket and smoothed her hair. “There are times when a mother has to take matters in her own hands, Lou.”

  “I couldn't agree more.” She turned and waved to Mandy and Anne, motioning for the two ladies to join them.

  The three women were close friends and business owners in Holiday Junction. Lou owned the town bookstore, Chalmers Chapters, Mandy ran the local coffee shop, the Daily Grind, and Anne owned the Holiday Junction Bakery. In addition, they were known about town for their matchmaking skills. The three had earned quite a reputation, and the nickname the Matchmaking Mamas. Chelsea had heard they'd been instrumental in getting Lou's daughter Vi and Kade Rivera to finally figure out they were meant for each other. Now, she had another assignment for them.

  “Hey, Chelsea.” Mandy smiled at her, little crinkles appearing around her eyes, the only lines in her smooth, dark skin that gave any indication of her age. Her salt-and-pepper hair was twisted into a multitude of long braids and piled on top of her head, wrapped with a colorful scarf that matched her green sheath dress and jacket.

  “Mandy. Good to see you.” She nodded at her, then Anne, who wore a dark blue suit with a white blouse, her brown hair loose around her shoulders. “Anne, how are you?”

  “Fine, thanks. Don't you love this weather?” she asked, pushing up the glasses perched on her nose. “Feels like an early spring.”

  “Let's hope so,” Chelsea replied. “I'm done with the snow.”

  “Chelsea came to ask for our help,” Lou said with a significant look at her friends.

  “Ohh,” said Mandy. “Who for? Lena? Or Braden?”

  “Braden's a hopeless case,” Chelsea replied with a sniff. “No, I came for Lena. I think it's high time that girl settled down.”

  “Did you have anyone specific in mind?” Anne asked, pulling out a little notepad and pen from her purse.

  A slow smile grew on Chelsea's face. “As a matter of fact, I do,” she said. “Have you ladies met the new police chief, yet?”

  Lou and Mandy exchanged a glance.

  “I have,” Lou said, “but from what Vi's told me, Lena's not too fond of the Chief.”

  “Oh, they got off to a bad start,” Chelsea said, toying with her earring. “But I have a feeling about that man. I think he and Lena may be perfect for each other.”

  “Well, we never doubt a mother's intuition,” Mandy said with a firm nod. “It'll be a challenge, but we're up for it, aren't we, ladies?”

  “Absolutely,” Anne said.

  Lou hesitated for a moment, but then she smiled. “Of course. Chelsea, we'd be glad to help.”

  “Excellent.” Chelsea beamed, feeling like a load had been lifted. “So what happens now?”

  Lou grinned. “Now, we do what we do best,” she replied. “We meddle.”

  When Lena pulled into the parking lot at Holiday Junction Elementary School Tuesday night for the monthly town meeting, she had a plan. She was going to bring her parking situation to the council herself. And when Mayor Kendricks tried to tell her zoning issues were not on the agenda, she had a plan for that, too.

  She parked, and gathered up her notes, making sure they were tucked neatly in a manila folder. She had just locked her car and was heading to the gym door when she spotted a familiar blue, muscle car.

  The sight brought back her frustration from Saturday night. She'd been so frazzled after Gage had stopped her, she had blown right through that stop sign. The man made her furious. He made her nervous.

  And now he'd cost her another hundred bucks.

  She'd thought about contesting the ticket, but even she knew it would have been a fruitless endeavor. She had missed the stop sign, and telling a judge it was because the Chief of Police distracted her, probably wasn't a wise course of action.

  But he'd enjoyed it a little too much, she thought. He hadn't said a word as he'd written her up, but she'd seen the ghost of a smirk on his face, and it ticked her off, to be honest.

  So, with a glance around the parking lot to ensure she wasn't being watched, Lena slowly approached the muscle car, frowning at the blue fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. A look through the window revealed what she expected. Neat as a pin. No fast food bags, travel mugs or scraps of paper to be seen. This car was definitely the Sheriff's baby.

  An idea formed in Lena's mind. She wouldn't do anything to damage the car—that would be crazy—but maybe she could have a little fun.

  She pulled a blank piece of paper out of her manila folder, scrawled a few lines on it, and tucked it under the windshield wiper, snickering to herself.

  “Take that,” she muttered, as she turned to head into the meeting.

  The room was full when she walked in, scattered conversations a low hum, and the scent of Anne Patterson's banana bread drifted through the air, luring Lena to the snack table. She grabbed a slice and a cup of coffee, then smiled when she spotted Vi and her mother sitting about halfway up. She took the seat next to Vi.

  “Where's Kade?” she asked. “I thought he loved these meetings.”

  “He does,” Vi replied, taking a notepad and pen out of her tote bag. “He had a bunch of papers to grade and couldn't spare the time.”

  “Bummer.” Lena took a bite of her banana bread and sighed happily. “This makes it all worthwhile.”

  “Why do you think they do it?” Vi asked on a laugh. “I doubt half of these people would show up if Mrs. Patterson didn't bring the treats.”

  “She's a true servant of the people.” Lena noticed Gage sitting in the front row, speaking to Alice Camden, owner of, and reporter for, the Holiday Junction Journal. “Speaking of servants, I found one of Gage Turner's soft spots.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Vi eyed her skeptically. “You're still going on about that?”

  She frowned at her friend. “He gave me another ticket, Vi. He's out to get me, I tell you. I only want to level the playing field a little.”

  “How do you plan to do that?”

  “Well, I'm not a hundred percent sure, but he has this car—”

  “Oh no!” Vi's blue eyes widened. “You didn't do something to his car!”

  “Would you keep your voice down?” Lena hissed. “I didn't do anything, really. I just—”

  At that moment, Mayor Kendricks called the meeting to order.

  “I'll tell you later,” she whispered to Vi. When her friend stared at her, concern in her eyes, Lena huffed. “I'm telling you, it's nothing to be worried about. Trust me.”

  Vi still looked unsure, but she turned to pay attention to the action at the front of the room.

  Joshua rapped his gavel on the podium. “Order!” he shouted, slamming it until the room fell into silence.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I hereby call this meeting to order. Can we have a motion to waive the reading of the minutes?”

  “So moved!” someone called out.

  “Seconded!”

  “All in favor of waiving the reading of the minutes signify by saying aye.”

  Everyone said aye in bored voices. It was the same every meeting, and pretty much done by habit.

  Joshua surveyed the crowd. “Opposed?” The room was silent, and he rapped the gavel once. “Motion carries. On to the first item of business—” He scanned the agenda lying on the podium, peering through his wire-framed glasses. “A request for the installation of a stop light at the co
rner of 3rd and Rockport—”

  The audience broke out in groans, and Joshua raised his voice to shout over them, pounding the gavel. “Order! Order!”

  When the room had calmed once again, he said, “I believe we have some testimony in support of the idea.” He waited, then finally hissed at Boomer Benedict, “Boomer!”

  “Oh! Sorry!” He got to his feet, looking down at a three-by-five card before he said in a slow, monotone voice, “A stop light at the corner of 3rd and Rockport is an excellent idea. The reasons are three-fold.” He flipped to the back of the card, his sweaty forehead glowing in the overhead lights.

  “One,” he said, belatedly holding up a finger. “It will provide a safe crossing for both automobiles and pedestrians. Two, it will ensure traffic flows smoothly—” He swept a palm in front of him in a wide arc. “And three, it will enable us to better analyze traffic patterns—”

  “Traffic patterns?” Vi whispered to Lena. “You have to actually have traffic to have traffic patterns, don't you?”

  Lena snorted.

  “—establish a safe and efficient transportation system in Holiday Junction. Thank you,” Boomer concluded, Joshua mouthing the words right along with him.

  “Thank you, Boomer,” the mayor said, smiling widely. “I think you made some excellent points.”

  Alicia Beatty, the principal at HJ High School, and a member of the town council, stood up. “Mr. Mayor, if I may?”

  Joshua sighed heavily, but motioned for her to continue.

  “I think I speak for the rest of the council—” She nodded at Roberta and Matthew Wu, husband and wife co-owners of the town's only grocery store and the final members of the town council. “—when I say this is a ridiculous waste of time. There is no need for a stop light, and the council will not vote to install one without support from the community.” When the mayor opened his mouth to respond, she quickly added, “Support from someone other than your employee reciting a statement obviously written for him.”

  At that, Lena jumped to her feet, a wild idea forming. “I think it's a good idea,” she said.

  Joshua and Alice . . . in fact, everyone in the room, turned to her in surprise.

  “You do?” the mayor said.

  “Yes.” Lena cleared her throat. “Safety is important in Holiday Junction, and we don't want people crossing intersections all willy-nilly, do we? It's dangerous.”

  “Exactly.” Joshua pointed at her while nodding wildly. “That's what I've been saying all along.”

  Lena turned to Alicia. “What kind of support would you need to see for the council to consider the stop light?”

  “Well, I'm not sure—”

  “How about a petition?” Lena said. “If I were to circulate a petition, how many signatures would I need to get to demonstrate community support?”

  “I suppose a petition would be a good start.” Alicia glanced at the Wus, who both shrugged. “Perhaps a hundred signatures? That would indicate enough support to encourage the council to study the issue.”

  “All right then,” Lena said. “A hundred it is.”

  She sat down and Vi whispered, “What in the world are you doing?”

  Lena smirked. “I'm working the system.”

  “Since that issue has been addressed for the time being,” Joshua said, still smiling, “I believe we can move on to the plans for St. Patrick's Day.”

  Lena stood up again. “I'm sorry, Mr. Mayor?”

  “Yes, Lena?”

  “I have some new business, if I could bring it to the group?”

  “Oh, well . . .” Lena could tell Joshua wanted to stick to the agenda, but he also didn't want to deny her, since she'd just stood up for him. “It's a bit unorthodox, but go ahead, Lena.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I'd like to propose removing the No Parking designation from the alley behind McKenna's Creamery.”

  The mayor shook his head sympathetically. “I'm sorry, but you know all zoning issues are only addressed at the council's November meeting.”

  Lena held up a finger. “Yes, but—” She reached for her file folder, pulling out a piece of paper. “—the town charter allows an exception to be made in cases where public safety is a concern.” Lena held up the paper and shook it a little in emphasis.

  Joshua looked at her in confusion. “And you're saying the alley behind your shop is an issue of public safety?”

  “Well, yes,” Lena replied with wide eyes. “Just like the stop light, I'd say.”

  It took a moment, but the mayor caught on relatively quickly. He looked like he'd sucked on a lemon.

  “So, I figured the council could take on both issues at once. Two birds. One stone.” Lena smiled brightly at him.

  “That would be convenient,” he said flatly. “Very well, since it's an issue of public safety, the council will consider your request if it is submitted in writing.”

  “Done!” Lena said brightly, producing a neatly typed page, which she carried to the front of the room and laid delicately on the podium in front of the mayor. “Thanks so much,” she told him quietly.

  He smiled faintly in response, then rapped the gavel on the podium for no particular reason other than he was probably a bit irritated.

  Lena made her way back to her seat. She glanced at Gage to find him watching her with a smirk on his face.

  She didn't smile smugly back at him. But she felt it, deep inside.

  * * *

  Gage had to hand it to Lena McKenna. When the woman wanted something, she went after it with guns blazing. He couldn't believe the way she'd wrapped Mayor Kendricks around her little finger. And he was certain she'd manage to get those hundred signatures—but only after the council agreed to let her park in the alley.

  It was pretty impressive, he had to admit.

  “Politics,” Alice Camden said with a scowl. She was the owner of the town newspaper, and obviously had some unfavorable opinions of the behind-the-scenes machinations of the Holiday Junction town council.

  “Tit for tat, quid pro quo,” she said under her voice, scribbling shorthand in a small notebook. “It's getting to be as bad as Washington D.C., I tell you.”

  Gage thought Holiday Junction—HJ to the locals—had a long way to go to catch up with the corruption on Capitol Hill, but he didn't try and correct her. In his brief chats with Alice—today, and when she interviewed him a few days earlier for a spotlight in the paper—he'd definitely learned that the woman took her job as a journalist, political watchdog, and servant of the community very seriously.

  He never wanted to get on her bad side.

  “Before we move on to St. Patrick's Day,” Mayor Kendricks said, running his finger down the agenda before him. “I want to take a moment to introduce our new police chief. Some of you were at the Shamrock Friday night for his unofficial welcome party, but for those who weren't, I'd like to present Chief Gage Turner.”

  Applause rang out and Gage got to his feet, lifting a hand in a self-conscious wave. He'd be glad when all these introductions were over and he could just do his job. He spotted Lena sitting next to her friend, Vi and noticed she was clapping, but not at all enthusiastically.

  Why did she dislike him so much? And why did it continue to get under his skin? He averted his eyes, meeting the gazes of some more friendly-looking residents. One of the Merry Widows—he couldn’t remember which was which at the moment—blew him a kiss, and he smiled weakly.

  “Thank you, Mayor Kendricks,” he said when the clapping died down. “I'm happy to be here and want to tell everyone that if you have any questions or concerns about the department, come and see me. My door is always open.”

  Gage sat down to another smattering of applause, and Alice patted his knee. “Excellent. Sincere and concise.”

  He smiled at her, and let out a slow breath of relief that the mayor was moving on.

  “That leads us to plans for St. Patrick’s Day,” he said. “As usual, we have the Pot o' Gold Treasure Hunt, followed by the céilidh o
n Saturday evening—”

  “And into the wee hours of the night!” someone called out in a thick Irish brogue, greeted by laughter and whoops of approval.

  “Yes, yes . . .” The mayor rapped the gavel. “Let's begin with the Hunt, Lou—”

  Before he could finish, Boomer Benedict got to his feet again. “Joshua? Mr.? I mean . . . Your Honor?”

  The mayor sighed heavily. “Yes, Boomer?”

  Boomer smoothed his comb over and hiked up his pants. “I'd like to make a motion that we have a pub crawl this year! Yeah!” He shouted at the end, fists raised overhead as he turned to the crowd for support. “Come on, it'd be awesome!”

  A few people clapped, but the mayor simply rolled his eyes.

  “I'm afraid that's impossible.”

  “But I went to one in Seattle last month,” Boomer said. “It was a blast. And I know it raised a ton of money.”

  “Boomer—”

  “—it'd be good for the town—”

  “Boomer—”

  “—bring people from miles around—”

  “Boomer!” the mayor shouted, greeted by scattered snickers.

  “Yeah?” Boomer asked.

  “We can't have a pub crawl,” the mayor said slowly, as if speaking to a child. “Because Holiday Junction only has one pub.”

  Boomer's face pinched up, as if he was thinking hard. Then he sat down without another word.

  “All right then,” Mayor Kendricks said, consulting his notes again. “Lou, what can you tell us about the Treasure Hunt?”

  Gage had yet to officially meet Lou Chalmers, but as she walked up to the podium, he could tell she was a force to be reckoned with. She looked a lot like Vi—or rather, Vi looked a lot like her, he supposed. She had short, spiky blonde hair and blue eyes, and wore jeans and boots with an oversized red sweater. Slipping on a pair of reading glasses, she consulted her notes before she addressed the crowd.

  “The Hunt will begin promptly at nine o'clock Friday morning and end Saturday night at eight, when the Céilidh officially begins.” She peered over her glasses. “The rules will be posted at the Shamrock, and of course are available on the Chamber of Commerce website, as well. Anyone trying to begin early, or found in violation of the rules will be immediately disqualified, no questions asked.”