Her reverie was interrupted as Tim Knudsen called her name. She turned and saw him striding across the lawn. He greeted her warmly and introduced himself to Susan. It was evident he was in a people business by his polished manner. “I’ve got two Porta-Potties for you,” he announced. “I’ll bet nobody’s said that to you before.” He chuckled. “I thought you’d need them, and I’ve got a friend in the construction business who’s letting us borrow them for the weekend. The crew is here to set them up, and they’ll pick them up first thing Monday morning. Show me where you want them.”
By dusk, most of the supplies had been delivered and set up. Maggie and Susan were just stepping out to pick up dinner when a police cruiser pulled up to the front door. “Oh boy,” Maggie muttered, “maybe we need a permit, or a neighbor is complaining already.” Susan stiffened her spine as Chief Andy Thomas stepped out of the car and greeted them with a disarming smile. He told Maggie that he wanted to personally thank her for hosting the carnival to benefit the pension fund.
“I don’t think we’re going to raise all that much money,” Maggie said.
“That isn’t the point. It’s the fact that a whole lot of people care. This has lifted morale and means more to all of us than we can express,” he said. Maggie smiled and shrugged off the compliment. “We’re going to patrol Rosemont heavily between now and when everything is taken down. We don’t want anything stolen. So if you notice police cars in the area, don’t be alarmed. And several of our off-duty officers have volunteered to direct traffic and be a presence here.”
“Direct traffic? Do you seriously think that will be necessary? Will we have that many people?” Maggie exclaimed.
“Oh, I think so,” the chief said as he stepped back into the cruiser. “The whole town is talking about it. My wife, daughter, and grandkids will be here.” With that, he pulled away, leaving Maggie and Susan speculating wildly on how many would attend, did they have enough of everything, and most importantly—how much money could they raise?
Chapter 21
Good Friday dawned with a promise of showers that was fulfilled by midmorning. Light rain fell sporadically all day. The gray skies did not dampen the mood of the volunteers in and out of Rosemont.
Alex and Marc spent the morning in the library filling plastic eggs with candy and prizes. In the afternoon they donned rain gear and canvassed the lawn, charting the number that should go in each quadrant and debating how many should be easy to find and how many difficult. Eve stuck to them like glue.
Judy stopped by before opening her shop to drop off items for the silent auction. The back of her old Suburban was packed. Marc and Alex helped carry everything through the house to pile it by the back door. Maggie showed Judy the tables for the silent auction on the covered patio. “Unless we have a driving rain,” Maggie said, “these things should be fine outside.” Judy assured her that they could cope with whatever nature had in store for them and that she and Charlotte would arrive first thing in the morning to set it all up. “I’m planning to be here all day tomorrow,” she said. “This is where the action is going to be. I can always run to the store if they need me.”
Both Tonya and Tim called. Tonya would be over in the late after-noon to drop off popcorn and lemonade mix. Tim offered to be on call to pick up or do anything they needed. Rosemont was in chaos, and Eve was getting into everything. Maggie decided that her faithful companion needed to spend the weekend elsewhere. She called Westbury Animal Hospital and arranged to board her. She and Susan would deposit Eve and pick up groceries for the Easter dinner she had planned for Sam and Joan, John, Alex and Marc, Tim and his wife, and Laura and Pete. She also wanted to get fruit and pastries to serve the workers who would be at Rosemont in the morning doing the final set-up. Maggie made some additional notes on her grocery list, snapped the leash on Eve, and she and Susan headed out into the drizzly day.
First stop was Westbury Animal Hospital. Maggie told Susan she could wait in the car, no need to get out in the rain. “Nonsense, Mom,” Susan said. “I might get a glimpse of this mystery man of yours.”
“He’s not my mystery man,” Maggie sputtered. As it turned out, John was with a patient. The technician at the counter told Maggie that Dr. Allen would be taking Eve home with him for the weekend. There would be no boarding fee. Was it my imagination, Maggie thought, or was the technician giving me an appraising glance?
The grocery shopping turned into a bigger expedition than originally planned. The supermarket had most of what they wanted, but not everything. Mother and daughter shared a love of cooking and kept up a constant chatter about new recipes and recent trends in foods, which vegetables were in style right now and which were on the wane. They stopped at two specialty stops on the way home and eventually had everything they needed, and a whole lot more.
It was pouring rain when they pulled into the garage at Rosemont in midafternoon. Marc unloaded the groceries while Maggie and Susan put them away. “Is anyone outside setting up?” Maggie asked.
“No,” Marc answered. “Sam called and said that he and John will stop by after work to drop off the games. And Beth and Laura are going to bring over the bake sale stuff they’ve collected. Alex went to the office for a while and is going to stop at Tomascino’s on the way home to get pizza for everyone. And I was just about to take a nap,” he concluded.
“Good plan,” Maggie said. “This is perfect nap weather. If I wasn’t feeling so wired, I’d do the same. You go before you lose the opportunity.”
Maggie turned to Susan. “Why don’t you go rest, too? You look tired.”
“Mom,” Susan said. “I’m just like you. I couldn’t sit still right now. Why don’t we set the table for Sunday dinner? Are we using the formal dining room? It’s gorgeous. Have you used it yet?”
“Nope. This will be its maiden voyage,” Maggie replied. “Wait until you see the china and linens I’ve inherited with this place. And we’ve got all those ceramic rabbits I bought to use as a centerpiece. You’re so creative; you can make this gorgeous. If the food doesn’t turn out, no one will notice,” she teased.
With this happy task in their sights, they set to work. They decided that the rabbits would show to best advantage on a large ivory damask cloth and settled on the Portmeirion dinnerware. Dessert would be served on square Wedgwood plates with a wide gilt border. They placed the last piece of silver on the table and were standing in the doorway admiring their handiwork when Alex came through the kitchen with a stack of pizza boxes.
“Laura and Beth just pulled up in front,” Alex said. “Where do you want them to put the bake sale stuff?” He set the pizza boxes on the kitchen island and trailed off to the front door. Susan smiled at Maggie. “Looks like our break is over. Time to launch back into high gear for tomorrow.” She turned back to her mother. “This has been such a fun day. I’m totally into it,” she said, waving her hand to encompass the preparations around her. “And I’m feeling much better.” She smiled and headed off after Alex.
The rest of the evening was a blur of activity. There were so many moving pieces to what needed to happen the next day that Maggie lost track. The volunteers, however, were on top of their responsibilities, and Maggie decided to quit worrying and trust that all would be in order.
Pizza had been a grand idea. The atmosphere was relaxed and festive. The rain had stopped and the clouds in the night sky were thinning. She took a supply of trash bags outside to stash for use the next day. We’re going to have a fine day tomorrow, Maggie realized. She walked to the bottom of the lawn and turned to look back at Rosemont. The house was brightly lit and people were clustered in groups, talking, teasing, gesturing. Laughter drifted down to her. The dining room looked spectacular, all dressed up in its party finery. The house looks happy, Maggie thought. And I’m happy. She wrapped her arms around herself and deeply inhaled the crisp air, scented with lilac from nearby bushes heavy with bloom. Cloaked in peacefulness and contentment, she headed back uphill to return to the fray.
Before she could even get through the back door, Maggie was bombarded with questions. She kept one eye peeled for John, surreptitiously looking over people’s shoulders for him, as she discussed details of the following day. She knew he had extended his office hours until seven that night to make up for closing the clinic on Saturday to help with the carnival. Maggie wanted to introduce him to Susan and see how they reacted to each other. Susan had been very adult and supportive of the idea of her dating someone, but meeting the actual man might be a different story. Why in the world can’t these people just figure things out for themselves? she thought impatiently and was immediately sorry for the thought. They were all generously supporting her harebrained idea. Still, she kept on the move as much as possible. And where in the world was Susan, anyway?
By the time she finally found her, Susan was holed up in the library with none other than John Allen. They had their heads together over Susan’s laptop. John was dictating, and Susan was pounding away at the keyboard. Stacks of paper were neatly arranged on the hearth. They didn’t notice Maggie until she said, “Well, here you are. I was wondering where you’d disappeared to. Hello, John. I see you’ve met Susan.”
John winked at Maggie as Susan replied, “Yep. We’re working on sign-up sheets for the games. And we’ve got that stash of prizes over there that John brought,” she said, gesturing to a large box in the corner. “We’ve made a list of which prize goes with what game. You should see what he brought. Very cool stuff. There are art supplies, puzzles, and games. You must have spent a fortune,” she said and tossed a smile at John.
Thank God, Maggie thought. She likes him. They’re getting along famously. I couldn’t have orchestrated this any better myself. “When did you get here? Did you get some pizza?” she asked John.
“I’ve been here about half an hour,” John replied. “I brought the prizes in here, and Susan and I got busy. I’ll get something later.”
“Don’t be silly. There might not be anything left if you wait. I’ll go bring you a plate,” Maggie said. “You just carry on.” And they were hard at work before she left the room.
***
Frank Haynes tallied up the week’s income at his restaurants and was pleased with the recent upward trend in revenue. He was on track to reach pre-Recession sales levels by the end of the second quarter. He swiveled in his chair to check the weather outside his window and was glad it had cleared up. He removed his Burberry trench coat from the padded hanger on the back of his office door, laid it care-fully over his arm, and headed to his car.
He frowned at the rain-spattered exterior of his usually shiny black Mercedes. He’d get it washed first thing in the morning. The interior was immaculate and the leather seat welcomed him like an embrace. God, it’s good to be successful, he thought. He liked the trappings of wealth. The only thing missing was Rosemont. Once he had that, he’d be set.
As was his custom, he drove by Rosemont before heading home. That idiot woman had cooked up that cockamamie carnival. What a do-gooder she was. How much could she possibly raise? Five hundred dollars? On a good day, he thought. Well ... let her have her little party. Maybe it’d be a big flop and she’d get her feelings hurt. Or better yet, someone would get hurt and sue her. That would surely send her sorry-ass back to California. He chuckled and relaxed into his seat.
As he rounded a bend in the road, he was presented with a view of Rosemont fully lit and with a steady stream of cars coming and going. The lawn was bustling with activity. He swerved off the road and strained his neck for a better view. This was unexpected, to be sure. She might make a success of this thing after all. He’d have to figure out how to turn this to his advantage. A mirthless smile spread across his lips, and he punched the speed dial button for Forever Friends.
Within moments, he had the cell phone number of that woman from California who had adopted the dog several weeks ago. He waited impatiently as the phone rang and feared that he would go to voicemail when she finally answered with a breathless “Maggie Martin.”
“Mrs. Martin. Frank Haynes here. How are you this fine evening?”
“Fine, thank you. A bit busy—we’re setting up for the Easter carnival here at Rosemont tomorrow. Could I return your call on Monday?”
“That’s why I’m calling, Mrs. Martin. I’ve been trying to find the time to call you all week,” he lied. “I want to donate door prizes and a larger item.” He was winging it here. He always had gift certificates for free items at his restaurants—they almost never actually got used by the recipients—so passing them out garnered him a lot of goodwill at minimum cost. He’d have to spend some money on something big. He considered all of the activity on the lawn. If this carnival was a big success, he’d get good publicity, and he’d be able to distance himself from the rest of the council. Put himself more in the camp of that first-class bitch Tonya Holmes. And he’d be currying favor with this Martin chick. This was getting to be a better idea all the time.
“That would be terrific. We’ll gratefully accept anything you want to give. It’s such a worthy cause.”
Haynes cut her off before she could continue with all of that do-gooder nonsense. “I couldn’t agree more.” He checked his watch—he still had time to get to the big-box electronics store before it closed. He’d give out a bunch of coupons to his restaurants and one really nice, pricey show-stopping gift. An iPad, if they had them in stock. “I’ll be by in the morning to drop them off—about nine thirty. You open at ten?”
“Yes. And thank you so much. We’ll see you tomorrow. We’re having a continental breakfast here for the workers, so come early and join us. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Frank,” she replied warmly.
Something about the tone of her voice when she spoke his name touched the sliver of decency in Frank Haynes. He felt like he did when he held a stray in his arms—like he was connected, like he belonged. “I’m getting soft over a woman? That woman?” He cursed. He spun his car back onto the road and headed off to procure his prizes.
Chapter 22
Maggie was startled awake the next morning by an increasingly loud knocking on her bedroom door. She heard the door open and Susan call, “Mom?” She launched herself out of bed as she yelled, “Come in!” Good Lord, she thought, it’s fully light out. What time was it? She could hear sounds from the lawn and knew that preparations were in full swing outside.
“I can’t believe I overslept! Today of all days. Eve usually gets me up at the crack of dawn. I didn’t think about setting my alarm. I forgot that she wasn’t going to be here this morning.”
“Don’t rush. We’re fine. I decided to let you sleep. You looked exhausted last night. Here’s your coffee and some fruit and a muffin. You can have your breakfast and pull yourself together and then come down. It’s only seven thirty. I’ll go back downstairs. I know where everything is supposed to go. There are plenty of people to help.”
Maggie regarded her calm, competent daughter. She was wearing skinny jeans, a gray hoodie over a white T-shirt, and had her long shiny hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. The look was
effortless and stunning. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do just that. Once I get downstairs, I don’t think I’ll be able to get back up here to fix my face. I want to look presentable.”
“Mom, seriously, you always look good. Don’t worry about that. But then I guess you’ll want to look nice for Dr. Allen,” she teased.
Maggie decided not to engage on the issue of Dr. John Allen and asked Susan if she wanted to come back upstairs to get ready.
“Nope,” she replied. “This is as good as it’s going to get today.” With that, Susan smiled at her mother and shut the door on her way out.
Maggie whipped around her bedroom like the White Tornado from the old Ajax commercials. A compulsive bed maker, she threw it together in a heartbeat, showered, dressed, and got made-up before her coffee could get cold. When she hit the bottom of the stairs, it was like she was stepping into a circus setting up in a new town
. People were moving fast, with an air of decisiveness.
The mood on the lawn was jovial, with the exception of the silent auction area. Charlotte and Judy were in a not-so-friendly debate over whether to set reserve prices for the donated items.
“We’re here to raise money, not give stuff away,” Judy grumbled. “For Pete’s sake, Charlotte, you of all people know how cheap some of these folks can be.”
“Yes, but we want to sell this stuff, not haul any of it back with us,” Charlotte defended herself.
“What do you think, Maggie?” they both asked as she approached.
Oh boy, she thought. I don’t want to take sides and get on the bad side of either one of these ladies. “I’m new here, so I’m not really sure. But I’ve always seen at least a small reserve set when I’ve attended silent auctions,” she said tactfully.
Tim Knudsen joined them to advise that he had a cash box with him and that he and Dottie Blankford from the Midland Bank would be handling all of the money for the carnival. Dottie had a credit card reader with her so people could charge things. “That should help your silent auction,” he said. “And you ladies can sign me up for the minimum bid price on everything. You won’t have to take anything home. My wife will probably bid on it all anyway. Just take it easy on those minimum bid prices,” he teased. “I don’t want to be eating cat food for the rest of the year as a result.”
“Okay, Charlotte, you see? We can set minimum bids now,” Judy announced, turning her attention back to Charlotte. “Thank you, Tim,” she said almost as an aside.
Tim knew when to make a quick exit. He nodded to Maggie, said “Ladies,” and was off down the lawn. Maggie intended to follow his lead but hesitated a bit too long and got roped into a now testy debate over the minimum bids.
Coming to Rosemont Page 14