CHAPTER TWELVE
“IN THE NEXT SLIDE, you see the angle of drainage the proposed application hopes to correct if you change the designation from Rural class 11B to Rural Class 1,” the speaker, one of the three planners at this monthly meeting of the planning commission, said. Her monotone delivery was so dry Casey had to fight back a yawn.
The woman, who had given her name just as Casey slipped in the back door of the Board of Supervisors room where today’s public hearing was taking place, was facing the six members of the planning commission. Four women and two men. The disparate group sat behind individual microphones on a raised dais.
Casey wondered if behind the impressive oak-paneled desk the commissioners were tapping their feet as impatiently as she was.
The huge assembly hall was mostly empty. At most twenty people were present, sitting together in small clusters awaiting their point on the agenda. It was easy to pick out the lawyers. Three men in suits. None from Nathan’s office that she could tell, but that didn’t surprise her since this was just a preliminary application review probably designed to test the local waters and scope out what kind of opposition GroWell would be up against on the board—and from local residents.
As the turkey application went to the next stage in the approval process, the conditional use permit, the fighting could be expected to escalate. That was where Casey and her team of determined NOTT volunteers would rally the troops, the media and any activists interested in joining their cause. She’d already e-mailed a few feelers to Earth First and PETA. In the case of the latter, this collaboration came with certain risks given the fact her father raised hogs that were given to kids who sold them for top dollar to be slaughtered, but she wasn’t going to worry about that right now.
“Wouldn’t you hate to have her job?” Casey murmured under her breath.
“Actually, the pay isn’t bad and the benefits beat any job I’ve ever had,” said Sarah, who was sitting beside her in the surprisingly comfortable theater-type seats. “She’s a nice person, by the way. Takes her job seriously.”
Why? Casey almost asked, but her cynicism hadn’t gone unnoticed by her fellow NOTTers.
“This is still America, Casey,” Jimmy had complained the night before at a gathering in Red’s kitchen. “Every vote counts, and every man—or woman—has a say.”
Casey wished she could agree with him, but in her job at the land conservancy, she’d watched greed win out over environmental concerns nearly every time. Those with the most to lose often had little or no say in the actions that sent them packing.
“If that’s true, then I’d better see every one of you at the meeting when the battle begins in earnest. You can get your toes wet tomorrow. Who’s coming with Sarah and me?”
That’s when the excuses started flowing, of course.
Casey looked around. Neither her father nor Jimmy were present, but she hadn’t been expecting them. Red was scheduled for more tests, and he’d been adamant that he wanted Jimmy by his side this time.
“You know where you’re needed most,” he’d told her over breakfast.
Here. With Sarah and half a dozen familiar faces. Casey sat down in her chair tucking the ample material of her denim skirt around her. She’d dressed with care that morning, topping her patchwork mosaic of denim with a lace blouse and one of her favorite vintage linen jackets. It showed its age a little, but she figured she’d blend in with the crowd better. The Bettye Muller boots she’d bought at a consignment shop were four or five years old, but the soft leather made her feel extravagant.
“When is it our turn?” She leaned sideways to examine the printed handout Sarah was holding. “Where’d you get that?”
“Pays to come early,” Sarah said, not offering her copy of the agenda to Casey. “Or even on time would be refreshing.”
She and Sarah still had a long way to go on the concept of teamwork, but Casey couldn’t really blame her for being upset. With one foot in the city and one in the valley, Casey wasn’t always present when some important issue came up, which left Sarah doing more than her share of the work.
Casey leaned forward to peek over the shoulder of another NOTT member. According to the boldface print, their item was last on the agenda, of course.
At the rate these people were droning on, this would take hours and she’d left the puppy alone in the fenced yard of Jimmy’s house for the first time. Casey knew she’d be fine, but she was worried just the same. What if Jimmy gets back before I do and leaves the gate open? She could wander out to the road and get hit by a car.
“Why do I care about any of this?” Casey groaned, slumping farther down.
“You don’t.” Sarah’s emphasis on the word you made the statement sound like a real dig.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She looked straight ahead and didn’t answer.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I had to call Nathan and it took a while to get through, then I had to drop off the puppy at Jimmy’s…er, the little house.”
Still no answer.
“Come off it, Sarah. What is your problem?”
Sarah puckered her lips together so tightly Casey could see little vertical lines where her lipstick stuck in the crevasses.
“Tell me.”
Apparently her demand caught the attention of the planning department woman, who turned to look at Casey. Sarah’s face filled with an unhealthy scarlet hue. She stood up to leave, which meant Casey had no choice but to get up to let her out of the row.
Since she was already standing, Casey followed Sarah up the aisle, feeling a bit like a groom chasing after a runaway bride.
“Sarah, what is going on? I thought we had this conversation and decided we could put our differences behind us and move on.”
“I thought so, too, but I was wrong.”
“Why?”
“Because Jimmy and I are supposed to be working on our communication skills, but when we’re together all he can talk about is you. ‘Casey this. Casey that.’ Is the man completely obtuse or what?”
“He’s a man, Sarah. He was born with the obtuse gene. My father’s just as bad. I was ready to kill him last night. He went over every talking point ten times. Doesn’t he trust me to do this right?”
“He trusts you. He’s not here today.”
“Only because he had a doctor’s appointment he couldn’t miss. If Jimmy weren’t the one taking him, I’d worry that Red was hanging out in a bar somewhere between here and Fresno.”
Sarah smiled, for the first time looking approachable enough for Casey to ask what had been on her mind since Red told her the news. “Is it true that Jimmy is moving home? You’re taking him back?”
Sarah waddled with more grace than most unpregnant women walked. She sat down on a wooden bench a few feet away from the door. Her color was high but she still looked like Sarah—serious, focused and worried.
“You are the world’s worst—no, make that best—worrier,” Casey had once told her friend. “I bet you’d worry about running out of things to worry about.” They’d been about ten at the time.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen to us—marriage-wise—but I finally had to admit that I can’t do this pregnancy alone.” Her tone was defeated, almost apologetic. “You could, but I’m not you, even if Jimmy wishes I were.”
Casey shook her head in astonishment. “Me? What do I have to do with this? Jimmy loves you, not me.”
“But he admires you, Case. Everyone does. Red is so proud of you. He tells everyone about your work at the land conservancy, taking on companies that would carve up the wilderness. It’s hard to compete with that when you’re a part-time clerk at the feed store.”
Red bragged about her? “But you have your degree. Why didn’t you work some place else if you didn’t like your job?”
“It was convenient and close to home. Jimmy said he’d worry too much if I was commuting every day.”
Does Nathan worry about me driving back and forth fr
om the city?
“And now, I plan to be a stay-at-home mom. This is my choice and I’m not apologizing. I’ve saved nearly every dime from my job so we could afford for me to have this time with the baby, but your coming back… Well, I guess you undermined what little self-esteem I thought I had.” She lifted her chin. “You look great, you know. Classy. Smart. That same get-out-of-my-way attitude you’ve always had.”
“You used to say that if we were one person instead of two, I’d be the body and you’d be the head.”
“Now, you’re both. My head is filled with hormones. This morning I cried over the fact that my toothpaste tube was too neat, instead of squished in the middle the way Jimmy does it.” She rubbed the left side of her belly. “And my ribs feel bruised from the inside out because this baby plays soccer all night.”
Casey’s fingers itched to touch her, to feel the baby move, but at the same time, she was slightly repulsed. Being around Sarah had churned up that old need that had prompted three tries at in vitro, but being home had brought other memories to the surface. Her mother had died in her last month of pregnancy. What if history repeated itself?
Casey took Sarah’s hand and squeezed it supportively. “I’m glad Jimmy’s moving home. He needs to be there with you and the baby. Maybe the closer proximity will mean you two can’t hide from your problems.”
Sarah didn’t look convinced.
“And we’re still a pair, Sarah. Only, now, you’re the body and I’m the head. I’ll argue our points, but if things start going badly, you can pretend to go into labor. That ought to get us a couple of sympathy votes, don’t you think?”
Sarah’s tentative smile turned into a grin. They were both laughing when the door opened and one of the NOTT volunteers who had been at Red’s the night before looked out. “We’re next,” the woman said, motioning them to hurry.
Casey jumped to her feet and pulled Sarah up, too. As they made their way to their seats, Casey thought about what Sarah had just told her. With Jimmy moving home, the little house her father had built for her would be empty.
The first thing she’d move out of storage was her aunt’s four-poster bed. Sarah wasn’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation. Between the lumpy mattress on her childhood bed, her father’s nocturnal pacing and the dogs barking at every coyote, squirrel and owl in the area, Casey felt exhausted before she even climbed out of bed.
Plus, her puppy would be safe from the pecking order Red’s dogs enforced. Casey still hadn’t named the poor little thing. She didn’t know why. Probably because naming her would really make her mine.
And Casey wasn’t ready to deal with the repercussions that declaration would have on her marriage.
The screen to the right of the podium went white.
“The next item on the agenda is the application by GroWell Farms for a conditional-use permit to build a turkey facility on parcel number…” The planner paused to locate the long string of numbers that had at one time been the Booth ranch.
Casey looked at Sarah and nodded. “It’s showtime.”
“I KNOW YOU’VE distanced yourself from this case, Nathan, and GroWell seems okay with that, but I’m concerned about what might happen if the media figures out the connection between you and Casey,” Gwyneth said passionately.
She and Eric had spent the morning in the conference room with representatives from GroWell. As promised, Nathan had kept his distance, even though it had nearly killed him. He shouldn’t even be talking to them now, but he’d stopped them in the hall to ask how the meeting had gone.
“As I said before, this becomes a moot point once we win,” Eric said, his tone frustrated. “Are you hoping for a scandal?”
Gwyneth shot her co-counsel a severe look. “Of course not, but I’ve seen Casey in action before. She’s not above using the media to paint an unflattering picture of our client just to win a sympathy vote.”
Nathan didn’t point out that Gwyneth had used the same tactics herself a time or two.
“None of that matters,” Eric insisted. “Historically, this particular county planning commission has voted on the side of agriculture eight out of ten times.”
“When it’s in their best interest and there’s little or no community opposition,” Gwyneth countered.
“It’s your job to make sure the planning commission approves GroWell’s application without requiring a full environmental impact report,” Nathan said. “An EIR would pretty much kill GroWell’s interest in the project, and that would probably cost us half a million in revenue. Failure is not an option. Understood?”
Gwyneth hesitated a second, then took Nathan’s arm and pulled him into her office. She motioned for Eric to follow. “I know you’re keeping your distance where this case is concerned, but this affects you, too.”
Nathan looked at Eric to see if he knew what she was talking about. Nathan wasn’t sure what he read in the other man’s eyes. Sympathy? Resignation? Regret?
She sat down at her desk and opened her laptop. “I arranged for an acquaintance of mine to attend the planning commission meeting this morning. He’s going to send me a streaming video feed.”
“I don’t remember authorizing any travel expense,” Nathan said.
She nodded. “Because I didn’t ask for any. If you’d have turned me down for economic reasons, then later we learned that our being there could have helped our case, your motivation might have become suspect. So I took it upon myself to send someone.”
Nathan checked his watch. Casey had called before leaving Red’s for the courthouse. “Sarah says today is just a see and be seen day. No public input,” she’d told him.
He sincerely hoped that was the case.
That was about all they’d had to say to each other—thanks to the fight they’d had before she left for the valley. He’d asked her about the e-mail photo of the puppy on her laptop. She’d immediately turned defensive.
“Do you see a puppy here? No. That’s because the animal in question lives at Red’s. Would I like to keep her? Yes. But knowing your extremely rigid stand on the matter, I told Dad we weren’t interested in acquiring a dog at this time. But you know my father. Red does what Red wants, and he wanted to buy me a puppy.”
“But I clearly told him ‘No dog.’”
“And he told you, ‘No turkeys.’ Neither of you seems to give a fig what the other wants, which leaves me—and a very sweet little pup—caught in the middle.”
Her complaint echoed one that had come up in conversation the day before with his sister. “Christine, you and Kirby are thinking of what’s good for you. I’m looking after Mom’s interests, and she’s caught in the middle. All of this haggling can’t be good for her.”
Christine had taken his complaint personally and hung up on him. Then half an hour later, his mother had called. “Kirby is going to be in the city tomorrow for some kind of meeting. I think the two of you should meet. Maybe you could go out to dinner since Casey isn’t home.”
Dutifully, Nathan had left a voice message with Kirby asking him to call. He was about to excuse himself to check with his secretary when Gwyneth’s cell phone rang. Her choice of ring tones—the “Ride of the Valkyries”—didn’t surprise him.
“Gwyneth Jacobi.”
She listened intently for a moment, and then typed something into her laptop. “Got it. Thanks. I owe you a drink.”
Nathan wondered if Gwyn’s volunteer detective thought he was going to get lucky tonight. Not that he cared. Did he?
He was saved from any personal interrogation by Gwyneth’s sharp inhale. “Casey’s at the podium. Where’s the volume?”
Nathan and Eric both hurried to stand behind her. The grainy image on the screen showed Casey in profile, shaking her finger at someone beyond the scope of the camera phone’s lens.
“This is a public forum and I am a member of the public who went to some effort to attend this meeting,” Casey told whomever she was addressing. “The least you could do is give me the courte
sy of listening to what I have to say.”
Offscreen a man said in reply, “I don’t have to look at you to listen.”
“By what standard of politeness? Your mother may have failed to teach you manners, but at least your fellow board members appear to look interested in what I have to say.”
Nathan groaned. He couldn’t help himself. Casey’s aunt had been a stickler for manners. One of Casey’s favorite Meg stories was the time her aunt had done something outrageous to a cab driver who, in Meg’s opinion, had acted snotty.
Gwyneth shook her head. “Someone should tell her that’s not exactly the best way to win people over to your cause,” she said. Grinning, she looked over her shoulder at Nathan. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Casey really is on our side.”
Nathan stepped back. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my office. This is your case and I’m not involved, remember?”
Ten minutes later—after two unsuccessful attempts to reach his wife, he settled for leaving a recorded message. “Give me a call when you get this. I…I’m going to the gym after work, then I’ll probably head back to the office after that.”
He started to add, “I love you,” but a knock on his door made him hang up the receiver. “Come in.”
Gwyneth. With two mugs of coffee. “A peace offering.”
He pointed to the chair opposite his desk. He didn’t want coffee. He wanted his life back, for starters, but he wasn’t sure how to get it. “Not necessary.”
“I was gloating in there. It was unbecoming and unnecessary. I don’t need Casey’s help—inadvertent or intentional—to win this case. And I certainly didn’t send someone to that meeting to ambush your wife. You believe me, don’t you?”
Did he? Did it matter?
He didn’t know, so he didn’t answer.
Gwyneth stood up and walked around his desk. She pushed his phone out of the way so she could rest her bottom where it had been sitting.
“Can we talk frankly? You know why I agreed to take the number-two seat on this case, right? Because you asked me to. You need this win, Nathan. Without it, your control of this office—and your future with this company—will be seriously at risk. I want to win this case for you, and I think you know why.”
A Baby on the Way Page 14