Faux Pas (A Road's End Mishap Book 2)

by Deborah Dee Harper

  “That man never did know his volcanoes,” George had said at Sadie Simms’ Bake House and Egg Plant one day after they’d spent the better part of two weeks cruising the surrounding area looking for the one Titus told one and all was in imminent danger of erupting.

  In an uncharacteristic gesture of temporary accord with his BFF—Best Friend and Foe—Dewey had chimed in, “Yer right, George. He wouldn’t know boiling liver from chopped lava.” Nobody ever asked Dewey what the two things had in common, or what they were, for that matter, but not for lack of wondering.

  It didn’t take the men long to reach the church. Since the break-in of last winter, Bristol had been a little more stringent about making sure the doors were locked when not in use, but this was a night of celebration and both men knew no one would have locked up quite yet. They were almost at the steps that led to the heavy front doors when they heard voices on the far side of the church between the building and the cemetery. Fortunately, George and Dewey were both chewing away on their contraband goodies and hadn’t erupted into an argument in the last few seconds. God does indeed work in mysterious ways. And it’s a good thing He does, because those two weren’t alone.

  Whoever it was didn’t know anyone was listening or were too involved in their conversation to care. Dewey heard them first. He grabbed George’s arm, put his finger to his mouth, then pointed in the direction of the voices. After listening for a second or two longer, both men hunkered down in the shrubs beside the steps and listened.

  Dewey licked his finger. Um-m-m, frosting.

  “I’m sick to death of wondering if you’re going to get the job done,” the man said. He poked his finger into the chest of the guy standing in front of him.

  “Don’t worry. I said it’ll get done, and I meant it. Now just get off my back.”

  The first man glared at his companion and took a step closer. “Are you talking back to me, you little …” He stopped, coughed, cleared his throat and said, “I’ll…”

  “You get your hands off me, and don’t get yourself in a lather. I don’t need your threats, and you don’t need me getting fed up with your threats. Understand?”

  Silence.

  “I said, understand? Because if you don’t, you can find someone else. I told you when this all started that I’d move when the time was right. I think tonight’s the night, but if it isn’t, I don’t want to hear anything from you. Besides, I haven’t decided yet whether this storm is going to work for us or against us.”

  “To heck with the storm! Just get it done. Tonight.”

  “I heard you. Now you listen to me. When this is all over, I don’t ever want to talk about this again. Got that? We agreed on my terms, and you’ll meet those terms. Believe me, you’ll meet them. But as for ever talking to you again about this you can forget it. And no more collaborations. Clear? This is a one-time only deal.”

  “Why, you ... you ... just who do you think you are?”

  “I’m the guy that’s gonna get your ugly mug out of this mess. I’m the guy you’re gonna pay and forget we ever had this deal. I’m the guy who’ll make your miserable life even more miserable if you ever ... and I mean ever breathe a word of this to anyone. Do I make myself clear? If this goes down the way we planned, I’ll have to work with you. But that’s it. No more.”

  There was a slight hesitation, then, “Perfectly.”

  “Good. We’d better get back there before anyone misses us.”

  George swallowed then said, “Did you hear what I heard?” He spat crumbs all over his friend as he whispered. They crouched behind the shrubs until they were sure the men had gone behind the church to return to the party.

  Dewey grabbed a fistful of shrubbery and pulled himself upward. “’Course I did, George. I was right here, remember?”

  “Don’t go gettin’ cranky, Dewey. Just checkin’, that’s all. What d’ya think it meant?”

  “I think it’s pretty obvious, don’t you, George?” Dewey sat down hard on the top step of the stairs leading to the church doors then put his elbows on his knees and propped his chin on his clasped hands.

  “Yeah,” George said. He sat beside Dewey and stared out at the yard. The wind was wreaking havoc with the hundreds of little flames scattered around the area; even the glass surrounding the candles couldn’t fend off the wild air currents forever. A flash of lightning slashed the sky to their right; a deep roll of thunder followed as if God were clearing His throat to warn the children of Road’s End of the wet and windy weather to follow.

  “Whatcha think we oughta do?”

  “Not much choice, is there? We gotta let the others know. ’Sides, Sadie’ll kill us if we don’t. Guess this’ll be the first mission of Gray Ops.”

  Dewey sighed. No private church basement-feeding frenzy for them tonight. “Nope, s’pose not. Let’s go tell ’em.”

  They slowly stood upright, grabbed their backs, stretched backward, groaned, and headed back to the party.

  A lone figure walked slowly down one track of Rivermanse Lane, making sure his steps were sure. He wasn’t familiar with this terrain and didn’t want to turn an ankle. He looked toward his destination: The Inn at Road’s End. It looked as though the party had wrapped up for the night. He could see a group of several older men talking and five or six women saying their good-byes before walking over to claim their husbands from the cluster a few feet away. Apparently, the men weren’t ready to leave yet, as the women all shrugged their shoulders and walked away. Soon they were out of range of the glow of the candles and disappeared into the shadowy night.

  The wind had grown stronger in the last few minutes, as had the thunder. A bolt of lightning lit up the western sky with jagged fingers that reached greedily toward the earth. He didn’t want to be out in this weather any longer than he needed to; he picked up the pace.

  Happily, the end of the party and the onset of the storm came at about the same time. With little cleanup to do, all the food having been consumed or spirited away by men worried about wasting away in the night, the women didn’t have to linger long. Much to my relief, I must add. It’d been a long, draining day, and from all indications it hadn’t yet drawn to a close. We still had a monster storm, a president to protect, and an outdoor reception, not to mention a church service, tomorrow.

  I found Mel talking to Mandy and Jonathan. Mandy still looked radiant in her wedding gown, and I made a mental note to thank all the residents of Road’s End for their untiring efforts to make this wedding unforgettable. Granted, many of those efforts were directed toward putting me into an early grave, but looking at my gorgeous daughter on this, her wedding night, was worth every painful, embarrassing, frustrating moment over the last few weeks.

  Tanner was fast asleep in his dad’s arms, his blond head resting on Jonathan’s shoulder, his little cheek mashed against the fabric of his dad’s coat, which was threatened by a thin line of drool oozing from the side of his mouth. Just as I stepped up to offer to put Tanner to bed, Sadie beat me to the punch. She elbowed her way past me as if we were at Pamplona during the racing of the bulls and held out her arms.

  “Give me that young’un, Jonathan,” she said. “I’ll put him to bed. Poor little guy’s all tuckered out.”

  “Why, Sadie, that’s very nice of you,” Mandy said as she hugged her, “but you don’t need to do that. We can get him up there.”

  “Oh no, you don’t, young lady. You’re newlyweds. No reason to go doin’ somethin’ someone else can do for ya when you got other things to tend to. Now, give him here.” She held her arms out to take Tanner. Jonathan looked around, his eyes practically screaming for help.

  “Sadie, I think that’s a wonderful idea,” I said. “Mel, why don’t you and I help Sadie tuck him in? What do you say, Sadie? Mind if I carry him upstairs?”

  “Go right ahead, preacher man,” she said. “Long as yer takin’ him up, I might as well clear up a little business. You go on. I’ll be right behind ya. Just need to ask one of those dummies over th
ere a question.” She tossed her head in the direction of the men of Road’s End who had gathered for one last powwow for the night. She sprinted in their direction, and I held up my arms and wiggled my fingers to hurry Jonathan along.

  “Here, quick,” I said. “If we’re lucky, we’ll get him upstairs and into bed before she finishes scolding whoever’s got her goat.”

  Jonathan passed a limp Tanner to me, and I cradled him against my shoulder. Such a little guy. All warm and cuddly. Did I just think ‘cuddly’? I shivered at the thought, and with a quick “Come on!” to Mel and a glance over my shoulder at Sadie giving Leo Walling what-for, we hurried to the back door.

  With Mel leading the way, I fairly trotted into the house, around the corner of the kitchen, into the dining room, and up the stairs to our bedroom. Tanner was bunking with Grandpa and Grandma for a few days, which thrilled him beyond belief.

  “You mean, I get to seep wit’ you and Gwamma?” he said when we told him he was going to sleep in a big-boy bed at the foot of ours.

  “Yep, you sure are,” I said. It’s so easy to forget how little kids can be thrilled with the tiniest of things. It’s a shame adults lose that innocent delight in the simple events of life they felt as children. “Daddy and Momma Mandy think you’re old enough now to sleep with us, and we’re so excited ’cause we’re going to see you first thing in the morning.”

  “Weally?”

  “Weally.”

  Frankly, despite the wedding and all it meant to him, I think knowing he’d sleep in our room that night was the high point of his day. After we tucked him in, said a prayer over him, and tiptoed out of the room, we walked back outside just in time to see Mandy and Jonathan saying good-bye to Pastor and Hazel Parry.

  Jonathan saw us first. “Still sleeping?”

  “Yep,” I said with grandfatherly pride. “Is everyone gone?”

  Mandy grinned and said, “Yes, but I can go get some of them if you want to party some more. Maybe Sadie and Winnie? Ruby? Martha? Or the men! You wait right here and I’ll go ...”

  “Ha ha, young lady.”

  “Speaking of Sadie,” Mel said, “where is she?”

  Jonathan pointed toward the church. “Last I saw, she was brow-beating poor Leo. Then they all traipsed over toward the church. I lost track of them after that. Probably went home, especially with this storm coming.” A gust of wind whistled past.

  “And the president?”

  Mandy pointed to a table near the herb garden. “He’s over there with Jonathan’s mom and Mack.” Sure enough, STR, Mack, and Irene were sitting around the table, laughing at something Mack had just said. If you didn’t know the people sitting together, you’d have easily mistaken them for just another happy group of family members gathered around a table to share the joy of a marriage ceremony.

  I noticed someone was missing. “Where’s the senator?”

  “Beats me,” Jonathan said, “but I can go find him if you want me to. It’d be a good way to end your evening.” I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

  “Uh ... no, that’s fine,” I said, catching a wink Jonathan aimed at Mandy and Mel.

  “Just kidding,” he said. “I hate to bad-mouth my mother’s husband, but nobody in their right mind wants to end their evening in a conversation with the senator. Believe me.”

  Always the kind one, Mel said, “Well, I’m sure he’s under some pressure.”

  “No,” Jonathan said. “More than likely, he’s off somewhere applying some pressure to some poor fool back in Washington who thought working for Senator Gilbert Austin would be a good idea.” He shook his head then looked up. “I’m sorry. He just gets my goat. Besides,” he said, nodding his head in his mother’s direction, “Mom’s always so much more relaxed when he isn’t around. Sad, isn’t it?”

  Mel squeezed my hand and leaned into me. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go talk to Irene.” She stepped over to Mandy, whispered something in her ear, and stared into her eyes for a few seconds. Then she put her hand on Mandy’s cheek and blew her a kiss with the other. “I love you, sweetheart.” She turned to Jonathan. “And I love you, too, you handsome man, you. I’ll see you bright and early in the morning. We have a reception tomorrow afternoon, remember?”

  I glanced at the sky just as a bolt of lightning split the curtain of darkness. “Hope the weather holds,” I said. “Mack told me things were going to get dicey tonight. I’m praying he’s wrong, but from the looks of things, it’s not likely. Listen, if things get bad, I’ll wake you guys up, and we’ll head down to the basement. I should probably mention that to Irene and the president, too.”

  “I’ll do it, dear,” Mel said, patting my arm. “Why don’t you say good night to Mandy and Jonathan.” She walked off, knowing I was about to do the thing I’d been dreading all day, aside from giving my daughter away to another man, of course.

  “I think I’ll just go over there,” Jonathan said, pointing to where his mother sat, “and say good night. I’ll be back in a minute, Mandy.”

  He walked away, and I took Mandy’s hand in mine. “Smart man you have there, sweetheart.”

  She looked after him, and it was obvious she loved him dearly. “Yes, he is, Dad. And I promise you he’ll finish that talk with you before we leave, okay?”

  I nodded. That wasn’t what I was going to say, but if she wanted to reassure me about his intentions, that was fine by me. Besides, I really wanted to talk to him and just knowing he would keep his word put my mind at ease. “That’s good, Mandy. I’m very fond of Jonathan already, and of course Tanner stole my heart, and your mother’s, about thirty seconds after he arrived. Has it been just two days? Seems like I’ve known that little guy forever.”

  Mandy squeezed my hand tightly. “I knew you’d love them, Dad. Both you and Mom. And I’m so sorry I caused you all this grief about the president coming and not knowing about Tanner, and this thing with Jonathan.” She shook her head and then shrugged. “It was just so much to tell you and instead of doing the right thing and just getting it over with, I stalled and stalled and ... well, you know the rest.”

  “Don’t worry about it, hon. It all worked out just fine, didn’t it? I’ll talk to Jonathan and use my mighty pastor super powers to change his mind.” I patted her hand and gave her my very best I don’t know whether to laugh or cry because my baby girl is a married woman look. “So there. Now everything’s fine and dandy in our little neck of the woods.”

  And that’s when a vicious gust of wind picked up a table and three chairs and tossed them into the air. They alternately sailed and bounced across Gloucester Street and then slammed to a halt against Sadie’s fence.

  Me and my big mouth.

  “Yow!” I yelped. “Let’s get everyone inside, okay?”

  Mack had already jumped to his feet to shelter the president. Mel and Irene did what every woman does in moments like this: they grabbed their hair. I probably would have too, except what’s left of it is cut so short I don’t have anything left to grab. I turned to Mandy to urge her to run indoors just as Jonathan reached her side. They were on their way to the back door a second later.

  The wind showed no signs of abating; the thunderstorm was upon us in all its fury. Lightning strikes came fast and furious; I could hear the crack of each strike as they sizzled and fried whatever they hit. The growling thunder didn’t have time to subside before another brilliant flash of light torched the earth and the rumbling started all over again. Tree branches flailed in all directions at the whim of the wind. Leaves, dizzy and flattened by a violent, twisting dance with the wind, flittered to the ground and smaller branches lashed the air like whips. Longer branches swayed and undulated as the currents swirled unseen, passing up and around, over and under, down and through the limbs, resembling leafy octopuses or wildly exotic dancers.

  I started to beat myself up about ignoring all the obvious signs of an impending tempest, but the wind was doing a pretty good job on its own, so I gave up. I yelled to Mack to
get the president indoors, while I started to grab tablecloths to prevent them from flying through the air and landing in the trees. Too late. Several of them were snagged by shrubs and two or three of them sailed around the yard until a tree branch reached out and snatched them. Caught in the leafy grasp of the trees, they whipped the air violently, resembling a huge and spirited Halloween-themed decoration.

  I wasn’t having much luck with the tablecloths, but miraculously, Bristol appeared and together we folded up the tables and chairs, minus the ones currently residing against Sadie’s chicken coop fence, and with Jonathan’s help, we managed to stuff every last one of them through the back door and into the kitchen. I thought about setting them inside the pantry door but remembered that one of the entrances to the basement was through the trap door, and I hated to close off any entrance to safety if the need arose.

  Which it did.

  George covered his ears, lowered his head, and cringed. “Whoa, did you hear that?” The men were in the basement of the Christ Is Lord Church making plans to rescue the president from certain death.

  Dewey nodded and said, “I’da had to been deaf not to!”

  “What?”

  “Deaf! I’da had to been deaf!”

  “Death? Where?”

  “Deaf!”

  Sadie, standing between them, had reached her limit about five seconds after she arrived, and wasn’t about to put up with any shenanigans, Gray Ops team or not. She whacked both of them on the back of the head. “George, git yer hands down, ya big dope. And Dewey, quit yer yellin’. Hard enough to hear with all that thunder and lightning out there.”

  “Ouch! Hey, Sadie, cut it out,” George said, his hands still over his ears. “Whadja do that for?”

  Sadie grabbed his right hand and yanked it away from his ear. “’Cause you two are dimwits. That’s what for.”