Avalee's Gift

by Linda Apple

  I sighed. Those days were long gone. I’d turned into Jema, a surrender eater. When the cuckoo bird chirped the time, I finished my coffee and stood. “Well, Momma. Time to slay the dragon.”

  She rose and carried our cups to the sink. “I need to get my pocketbook and go to the bathroom before we leave. Would you grab me a couple bottles of water out of the fridge? Grab yourself one, too.”

  Drinking water is good. Right? But Momma suddenly drinking water gave me weird vibes.

  We reached Sid’s office in plenty of time. His secretary asked us to have a seat before she picked up the phone to let him know we’d arrived.

  “I’m nervous as a turkey at Thanksgiving.” Momma daubed at her neck with a hanky.

  “Don’t worry. Sid’s a nice guy. Besides, our plan is right in line with his vision for the town.”

  Sid strolled into the reception room. “Good morning, Avalee, Miss Cladie.”

  “Morning Mayor.” I stuck out my hand. “Are you ready for this?”

  “Yes. We shouldn’t have a problem. Well, maybe a little pushback by Jim Fleming. But he just likes to flex his small man authority when he can.”

  Momma piped up. “How are the boys, Sid?”

  A pleased expression crossed his face. “Great. I’m going to be a grandpa.”

  “Oh, Sid. How wonderful.” Momma didn’t waste any time adding. “I’m going to be a grandma, too.”

  He cocked his eyebrow and looked at me. “Oh?”

  “Well,” I stammered. “Actually, she means Ty’s kids.”

  He lifted his chin in understanding. “Skye and Glen. Fine kids.” He pushed his shoulder toward the door to the boardroom. “Why don’t we go on in? Everyone should be here shortly. I wish I had coffee to offer you but—”

  “Did someone say coffee?” Lexi strode into the room with a drink carrier holding four cups. “I thought y’all would need some fortification.”

  Sid grinned. “Which is the fortification? You or the coffee?”

  “Both.” She handed him a cup. “That old coot, Fleming, is such a stickler. I swear he lives with a reindeer up his butt.”

  “Oh, Lord.” Momma wiped her forehead again.

  I patted her hand. “It’s all right, Momma.”

  Sid agreed. “He won’t give us any trouble Lexi can’t handle, Miss Cladie.”

  “Shoot. I’m not worried about him.” Lexi handed me a coffee. “If leather were brains, he wouldn’t have enough to saddle a June bug.”

  Momma smiled. Then frowned. “Sid Campbell? What have you done to yourself? I can’t make it out. You still have that long straggly hair, but something is different.”

  “Momma! Really?” I felt a blush heating my face.

  Lexi scrutinized him. “You aren’t wearing your glasses.”

  “Nope. I got lazered.”

  “Well, good.” Lexi bumped him with her hip. “Now we can see those baby blues even better.” She turned and winked at me.

  What was going on? That girl was out and out flirting. And Sid didn’t mind a bit.

  Shortly after we were seated in the conference room, eight members of the city council meandered in. Jim Fleming, aka, the troublemaker, brought up the rear. How appropriate.

  When they were all seated, Sid stood. “Good morning everybody. I called this informal meeting to discuss and hopefully come to an agreement on Miss Preston’s proposal, which I believe will be a considerable draw to our town. I am now turning the floor over to Avalee Preston of Preston Gardens to present her proposition. Please hear her out, and afterwards we will open the floor to questions and discussion.” Sid turned to me. “Miss Preston?”

  I cleared my throat and stood. “As you all know, my mother is the owner of Preston Gardens. This company has been in the Washington Avenue location for three generations. A few months ago, all of you were gracious in allowing her business to be grandfathered in as a rural district. Well, today I am coming to you again for a very special favor. However, this time I believe it will be good for our town as well.”

  A glance around the room confirmed I had their attention and maybe even interest. This gave my confidence a little spark.

  “We would like to begin a farmer’s market of sorts and call it the Moonlight Market, Treasures from the Earth. We propose holding it every Saturday morning beginning in late spring and ending late fall.”

  Jim Fleming, a man of considerable bulk, folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. His tortoise shell aviator glasses slid down his bulbous nose. He peered over the rims and asked, “With all due respect, Miss Preston, exactly how will a farmer’s market draw tourists? There’s nothing special about farmer’s markets. Even if we had one, why would tourist come? What need do they have of fruits and vegetables on vacation? Seems to me you and your mother will be the greatest benefactors here.”

  Lexi sighed, rolled her eyes, leaned over to Momma and murmured, “If his brains were dynamite, he couldn’t blow his nose.”

  “That’s a fair question Mr. Fleming.” I shot a look at Lex. “But this won’t be just a farmer’s market. The first Saturday of the month will be a festival and our focus will be on local art that is taken from or inspired by the earth. This could include pottery, jewelry, paintings, and such. We will also hold demonstrations on floral arranging, cooking, and crafts, landscaping tips, and fun things for children. There will be food tents, too. The other three Saturdays we will feature unique plants, trees, and shrubs that cannot be found in the big box stores or local greenhouses. These offerings will draw people from miles around. And if it is the success I think it will be, word will get out to surrounding states. It will be a destination event. We will also invite local gardeners to sell their vegetables and flowers. I also hope local restaurants will join us and give demonstrations and food samples.”

  Jim sat back in his seat and rubbed his chin. I hoped, no, I prayed to God above, the man was pacified. I turned my attention back to the group. “I would also like to set up an information booth about Moonlight for visitors with pamphlets to take home with them.” Actually, that idea had just popped in my head. It might be the nudge I needed to tip the scales in our favor.

  Ruby Greer, the quintessential of a southern genteel matron, raised her hand. “Honey, what about parking and such? I am sure tha neighbors won’t be too tickled to have cars blocking their drives.”

  “I’m sure they would not like it, Mrs. Greer. I wouldn’t either. We have five acres of land behind our house between Moonvine Road and Whispering Pines. The market will be set up there and we will rope off an area for parking along the Whispering Pines side, which is adjacent to the National Forrest, so there will be no private residences inconvenienced. Inside the folders in front of you, you will find a rendering of the parking plans, plus documentations of inspections, zoning, insurance, and permissions.”

  Fleming flipped through the folder, closed it, and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not buying it. I just don’t see this little plant circus amounting to anything. In my opinion, this is a bunch of falderal.”

  I felt heat burn my cheeks, but before I could open my mouth, Lexi slammed her palm on the table.

  “That’s it.” She stood and pointed at him. “Where have you been, Jim Fleming? Under a rock?” She put her hand to her cheek. “Oh wait, you probably have been under a rock.” Slinging her finger toward me she said, “Avalee Preston is known worldwide. Do you know what that means Fleming? She has contacts, all—over—the—world.” To emphasize her point, Lexi drew a circle in the air. “All she has to do is put the word out to her colleagues, and Moonlight will be put on the map like,” she snapped her fingers, “that.”

  “Thank you, Lexi.” I smiled at Fleming. “I hope this helps alleviate your concerns. I also forgot to mention the information before you contains revenue projections the city might expect.”

  Sid stood. “Personally, I think this is an excellent plan.” He faced me. “Thank you, Miss Preston.” Facing the council he said, “I’m reques
ting the council members to remain after the Prestons,” he tried to hide his smile, “and Miss Lowe leave. I would like us to discuss their proposal and take a vote on it. Miss Preston, I will call you after the vote.”

  “Thank you, I will look forward to your call.” I picked up my things and walked to the door with Momma and Lexi following me.

  As Lexi passed by Fleming, she drilled a glare at him. “I think I might just write about this meeting and its outcome for the community news.” When she got to the door she called back over her shoulder, “Don’t forget,” She drew a circle in the air. “Worldwide, y’all.”

  ****

  On our way home from the town council meeting, Momma pointed and said, “Avalee, honey, stop over at Pigg’s. I’m out of bottled water. I like to have some with me when I leave the house.”

  Something wasn’t right. I could feel it. Taking water with her was a new thing. But instead of questioning her, I pulled onto the parking lot. “Want to come in?”

  “No, I’ll wait.”

  “Want anything else?”

  “No, baby.” She fished out a twenty-dollar-bill from her pocketbook. “And get that thirty-six pack.”

  “Okay. Be right back.” Thirty-six? It would take her six months to drink that much. But, oh well.

  When we got home, I lugged the water to the pantry while Momma made coffee. After that meeting, bourbon would have been my choice. However, when the rich aroma filled the kitchen and drifted through the house, I decided coffee would be perfect on such a cold day. Nothing says home sweet home like brewing coffee.

  After I filled my mug, I grabbed my laptop to check emails and sat in front of the fire. Scrolling down, I saw an answer from Scott. Anticipation radiated through me. Did he like Ty’s photos? I clicked on his email and eagerly read.

  Hi there, sweetie,

  You’re killing me hon. Me and some buddies were at the Blind Tiger for a cocktail meeting. Remember those? Drinks and decisions? Anyway, we were on our second round when your pictures came through my email. I checked my phone and I couldn’t quit staring at the images. It must have obvious I had dropped out of the conversation because Taige elbowed me and said, “Hey man. Answer the question.”

  I looked up and realized I’d totally ignored everyone. I didn’t have a clue what anyone was talking about. I apologized then said, “You guys have to see these. I passed my phone around and asked them what they thought. I wanted their objective opinion. I could be a little biased and I sorta knew the story behind the shots.

  When they had all seen the photos they asked me who the people were, and I just threw questions out for discussion. “Who do you think they are, and what do you think the photographer was trying to get across?”

  Of course, my question started an animated discussion which lasted through a third round. All in all, the guys pretty much had it right. So, I think Ty accomplished what he’d hoped. The consensus was that the photographer’s goal was to contrast two groups: those who were obviously poor and those who were not. They also pointed out how those who had plenty did not notice what they had and took the opulence around them for granted. While the poor appeared to notice, admire, and desire everything around them. Especially that haunted look in the woman standing by the curtains eyeing Lexi’s dress. They also loved the unabashed joy of Junie and her father and speculated their happiness was from some sort of relief.

  I’m telling you, Ava, Ty has a gift. When I told the guys what you’d said in your email, Taige asked me to send the pictures to him. He has friends at the New Yorker, so who knows? This could be Ty’s moment. I hope so.

  Tell Momma Cladie I’m working on an outline for the book. I’ll get it to her ASAP so she can start dreaming up recipes.

  I’ll let you know when (not if) something develops for Ty. Love you to the moon and back,

  Scott

  Momma Cladie? I grinned. Oh well, I’ve always wanted a brother. Mom would appreciate Scott’s email, so I picked up my MacBook and toted it to the kitchen. No momma. Then I went to her sitting room and found her fast asleep in the recliner. A thirty ounce tumbler sat empty on the end table beside her. That was odd. My mother rarely took naps. But lately she took one almost every day. And what was with the water? I resolved to make an appointment as soon as possible and she would go, even if I had to get Felix to carry her.

  An hour had passed since our meeting with the town council when my phone rang. Sid’s name showed on the screen.

  “Hello? Sid? How did it go?”

  “You’re in business.”

  “Oh, that’s great news! Did Fleming give you any push back?”

  “He wanted to, but I think Lexi’s mention of writing an article for the paper gave him reason for pause. Wouldn’t look good for his future political hopes.”

  “I will work hard to make this a success. I promise. I’ll have to. Lexi set the bar high with her worldwide mantra.”

  “That girl is something else, for dang sure.” Sid chuckled. “Congratulations and if I can be of any help, let me know.”

  “Thanks Sid. Bye now.” As soon as I tapped disconnect, I gave a little squeal.

  Momma called from her chair. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  I strode to her room and suck my head in the door. “The mayor. We are in business.”

  She clapped her hands together. “Well, glory be. That is good news.”

  “Time to start calling in favors.” I hurried to the family room and foraged through my computer bag for the list I’d started.

  Momma ambled toward me rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Seems you call in a lot of favors. You must have really been something in New York.”

  “Let’s just say, I paid my dues. Now it is my turn.” I ran my finger down the list. “We need to get word out about the market fast. Details can come in a few weeks.”

  While I punched numbers on my phone, Momma asked, “It’s about lunch time. Are you hungry? I have some shepherd’s pie left over.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “All right, then. I’ll call you when it’s hot.”

  The first call I made was to Lex. It didn’t even get a full ring out before she picked up. “Hey, what’s the word?”

  “They voted yes, largely thanks to your thinly veiled threat of blackmail.”

  “Hey, works every time. Sometimes it actually pays to be a writer. Now what?”

  “Advertising, talking to vendors and calling in orders for everything we need. The most immediate thing is to start taking bids on a parking lot.”

  “Wow.”

  “There is a lot to do. I’ve been planning this for months. Now that we have the green light, it’s time to start pushing buttons.”

  “I’ll help, too. Can I call Molly Kate with the good news?”

  “Yep, and tell her to get ready. The guests are going to start pouring in.”

  “Will do. Love you, sweetie.”

  “Love ya back.”

  “Avalee?” Momma called from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready, hon.”

  My stomach grumbled its gratitude. The savory blast of hearty beef drew me like the Pied Piper’s song. Momma had mounded the tender beef and vegetable pie on my plate. The mashed potato and cheese topping swam in rich brown gravy. She warmed up potato rolls and set spun honey on the table. Way too much food, as usual. But, of course, I would eat every bite. Yep. Momma cast her spell on me like she did everyone else who put their feet under her table.

  She sat across from me. “Is Ty coming over tonight?”

  “No, we’re going to Oxford to visit his kids later this afternoon and take them out to eat.” The savory gravy and creamy potatoes were like a lullaby in my mouth. I closed my eyes and gave in to the moment.

  “That’s nice, hon.”

  “Want to come? I’m sure they would love to see their Big Momma. Especially Glen.”

  “No, baby. I think I’ll go through my recipe box and pull out my favorites for when Scott sends me that list. Besides, I just can’t s
eem to hit on all cylinders lately. All I want to do is lay around.” While Mom talked she broke open a roll and slathered it with butter and spun honey. “All this nonsense better stop before we open the market.”

  My golden opportunity dropped out of the clear blue right onto my lap. “Why not visit Doctor Derrick then? Just for a checkup.”

  “No need. I’m fine as frog’s hair, just done in by the holidays.” She pointed my direction with her roll. “Your momma is getting old, that’s all. So stop your worrying.”

  I wanted to remind her that in the few months I’d been home, her energy level had drastically dropped. But it wouldn’t do any good.

  After dinner, I helped her clean up then went to work making calls. After a couple hours had passed, I’d gotten a lot done and it felt good. I hadn’t lost my business mojo. The fire in the hearth had died down, and I needed to stretch. I stood, grabbed my coat and hat to fetch some wood off the stack outside. It was then I noticed Mom. She came out of the kitchen with a sandwich, slice of pie, and a glass of iced tea.

  “Momma? We just ate a little while ago.”

  “I know, but I’m hungry again. Now get on with your rat-killing, and I’ll get on with mine.” She moseyed on to her sitting room and shut the door.

  She had turned into a regular curmudgeon on me.

  ****

  While waiting for Ty to swing by and pick me up on the way to Oxford, I checked my email again hoping to hear more from Scott. No word from him, but one from Jema. Yay!

  Hey girl, or should I say ciao girl?

  So far I know ten words in Italian. It is a good thing Levi speaks the language, or we’d be in trouble. My southern accent keeps standing in the way of me ever pronouncing anything correctly here. Fortunately, most everyone I’ve come across in Italy speaks English. I keep thinking of that joke, What do you call someone who only speaks one language? North American. I sure wish I had paid more attention in my foreign language classes in high school or realized the importance of learning at least a second language while I still could. I know I can now, but it is harder for this old dog.