The Book Charmer

by Karen Hawkins

  From where she sat, Sarah could see the name of each committee member on a cover. Everyone reached for their folder.

  “The top page is a summary of the town’s financial situation,” Grace said. “Behind that is a list of tasks regarding a new, coordinated effort to reach out to some businesses. The tasks on that list need to be completed before our meeting next week.”

  “Whew.” Nate ran his finger down his list. “All of this needs to be done before next week?”

  “All of it,” Grace repeated firmly.

  “We’ll do it,” Zoe said, casting a challenging gaze around the table before looking back at Grace. “What do you plan to do with the funds you take from the festival account?”

  “The majority will go into high-quality printed materials ex-pounding the many benefits of moving a business to Dove Pond. After that, we’ll host some coffee hours in town hall and, hopefully, schedule tours of available business properties.”

  “Printed materials, pah!” Erma scowled. “You want to beg businesses to come here.”

  “Not beg. Sell. I want to sell them on this town, the low cost of rentals, the high education level, and”—Grace’s gaze moved to Sarah—“the people. That’s a pretty impressive package of benefits.”

  “It’s a special place,” Sarah said, although at the present moment she was feeling far from hopeful.

  “Well, I’m not going to do it.” Erma pushed her folder away. “Not without the festival. We should honor tradition, and the festival is tradition. Having such a tiny little event with nothing but hot dogs and a parade would rile people and make them lose faith in the town more than they already have.”

  “That’s true,” Kat said.

  Ava and Nate nodded.

  Ed put his cell phone away. “Maggie’s glad we’re still having the festival. I didn’t tell her about the cuts, though. She’s going to be furious.”

  “Look,” Grace said. “We have to do what’s good for the town first, and what’s good for the festival second.”

  There were grumbles and mumbles, but no one outwardly disagreed with her.

  Grace continued, “Let’s talk about the town’s financial situation. You need to understand what’s happened.”

  Sarah opened her folder. The top sheet held a pie chart featuring the town’s annual costs and expenses. The red far outmeasured the green.

  Grace went to the whiteboard that covered one wall and picked up a marker. “Some of you may have seen the budget summary the mayor hands out during department budget request time.”

  Sarah tapped the budget summary. “It doesn’t look anything like this.”

  “That’s because it only has expected income compared to annual expenditures. It doesn’t include outstanding long-term debt.”

  “Hold on.” Zoe’s brows lowered. “He cherry-picked it?”

  Nate made a disgusted noise. “Mayor Moore is a piece of work. He fudged the real figures.”

  “Look, I’m no fan of the mayor’s,” Grace said. “But things were bad at least a decade before he got into office. That said, his inability to face facts allowed the situation to worsen. If you look at that first chart, you’ll see what I mean. Here’s what’s happened.” She drew a big circle on the board and launched into a detailed explanation of the town’s financial woes.

  Sarah listened carefully. Basically, there were old, strung-out loans made necessary by everything from flood damage fifty years ago to the two bridges that led in and out of town, to recent street improvements that had gone over budget. In addition, there were squandered surpluses in healthy years and a too-conservative investment plan, all weighed down by the more recent effects of a reduced tax base.

  Sarah, never a whiz with numbers, kept up until Grace began talking about debt-to-income ratios. That had most of the committee members looking lost except for Zoe, who muttered under her breath about “high-risk foolishness” while taking copious notes.

  Grace finally capped her marker. “That’s it. Every loan. Every bond issuance. Every mistake.”

  Sarah glanced around the table.

  Erma stared at the pie chart as if she feared it might leap off the board and devour them all.

  Ed, Ava, and Kat appeared caught between shock and outrage.

  Nate tugged on his shirt collar over and over, as if he was too hot, while Zoe had retreated even more deeply into the report, her pen zipping down rows of numbers as she re-added the columns.

  Sarah was the only one left with anything that felt remotely like hope. Dove Pond was in trouble, something she’d accepted years ago. And while the news was worse than even she’d expected, the answer to their problems stood by the whiteboard.

  Grace dropped her marker back into the tray. “Any questions?”

  Everyone shook their heads.

  Sarah closed her folder. “Thank you for explaining everything.”

  “What a mess.” Kat rubbed one temple as if it ached. “We’ve got to do something, and fast.”

  “I’ll help in any way possible,” Ed offered, though he didn’t look hopeful.

  “If there is anything that will help,” Erma said sourly.

  Ava closed her folder and pushed it away as if she wanted nothing to do with it. “What now?”

  “Well, there’s one thing I can do.” Zoe flipped over the page she’d been writing on and started a list. “I’ll research funding options. I have some contacts in other towns. I’ll call them up and see what’s to be done. There may be some state loans the town can apply for.”

  “I was hoping you would do that,” Grace agreed. “We can meet tomorrow and talk about that some more.”

  “It’s a date. Ten?” At Grace’s nod, Zoe wrote the time on the top of her notebook and then tossed her pen back on the table. “I’ll see what I can dig up before then.”

  “Thank you.” Grace returned to her seat. “Which brings us back to the festival. As you can see, as much fun as the festival is—”

  “It’s tradition!” Erma snapped.

  Grace inclined her head. “And as big of a tradition as the festival has been in the past, we have to use some of the funds for a program designed to attract more businesses to Dove Pond to secure its future.”

  Sarah scanned the budget sheet, looking for some other pool of funding, but she saw nothing.

  Grace looked around the table. “All those in favor of moving half of the festival budget to a new business development initiative, say aye.”

  “Half?” Erma looked as if she might cry.

  Ed didn’t look any happier. “Why so much? Can’t you make do with, say, a fourth?”

  Grace shook her head. “We’ll have to purchase potential client lists from local chambers of commerce, and those are pricey. Plus, printing costs are always high, and then there’s the cost of bringing delegations to town and— It’s all expensive. We’ll need at least half of the festival budget to make this work, and even then, we’re going to be stretching it.”

  “She’s right,” Zoe said. “I hate it, but I second Grace’s motion.”

  “I’m voting no,” Erma said sharply. “We can’t cut the festival that much. We just can’t.”

  “I vote nay, too,” Ed said.

  Grace looked at Ava.

  She sighed. “Aye.”

  Nate shook his head. “Nay.”

  Kat bit her lip. After a moment, she nodded. “Aye.”

  Everyone looked at Sarah. She knew she had to support Grace, but oh, how she hated to see their beloved festival reduced in such a way. “There’s no other way?”

  “Not that I can see.”

  Sarah looked at Zoe, who shook her head. There was no help for it, then. “Aye,” Sarah said.

  “Damn.” Erma wrote down the vote tally, looking as if she were writing an obituary. When she finished, she threw down her pen. “People are going to be mad.”

  “Very,” Sarah agreed.

  “We’ll just have to explain things,” Grace said.

  Sarah frowned. �
��Grace, you said there were two parts to this meeting. What’s the second part?”

  Ed looked worried. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  Grace closed her folder. “This one is easy. I want to change the name of the social club.”

  Erma’s mouth dropped open. “Is nothing sacred to you?”

  “It’s impractical. And with this new direction, we’re no longer just planning social events. We’re developing a plan to make our town more profitable, so we deserve an upgrade.”

  Ava eyed Grace with a fascinated look. “What are you thinking?”

  “The Dove Pond Improvement Committee,” Grace replied without hesitation.

  “It’s professional and describes our new purpose well,” Zoe said. “I make the motion.”

  “I second,” Ava said.

  “All in favor?” Grace looked around the table.

  Erma was the only one who didn’t raise her hand.

  “Passed.” Grace began piling her papers into a neat stack. “Call me if you have any questions with the items on your task lists. I’ll see you all back here next Monday at three. Until then, meeting dismissed.” Grace stood and headed for the door.

  “Wait,” Nate called.

  She stopped. “Yes?”

  “It may take us longer than a week to get all of this done.” He tapped his folder.

  “No kidding,” Erma said, looking at her list. “It’ll take two weeks, at least. Maybe more.”

  “We need to move quickly,” Grace said. “But fine. How’s next Friday? That’ll give you a couple of extra days.”

  Nate leaned back in his chair, and although he looked unconvinced, he said, “That’ll help.”

  Grace nodded and continued to the door.

  Everyone started talking. Nate leaned over to ask Zoe to explain something in the budget he didn’t understand. Ed was already on the phone with his wife as Kat and Erma argued about the value of a business outreach. Looking concerned, Ava sat watching them all.

  Sarah stood and hurried to the door. “Grace!”

  Grace paused, one hand on the knob, her gaze cool. “Yes?”

  There was nothing welcoming about that “yes.” Sarah forced a smile. “I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re here to help.”

  “You all didn’t really give me a chance to refuse, did you?”

  “We couldn’t afford to. We need you. I didn’t realize how much until now, but—” She took a deep breath. “We do.”

  Grace’s expression didn’t thaw.

  “Look. I know you’re mad.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “Yes. But not if I understood how important it was. Dove Pond is—”

  “Look, Sarah. I’m going to do what I can. I’ll be here for the next eleven months, but that’s it. Whatever I can do in that time, I’ll do. But after that, Dove Pond is your concern and not mine.”

  Sarah searched Grace’s face for one sign—just one—that she cared about the outcome of their town, but she saw nothing. It was disheartening. Forever, the journal had said. What if I’ve made her so mad that she’s just that much more determined to leave? Sarah’s heart sank and she shifted from one foot to the other. “I guess I’ll see you at five, then. For the ride home.”

  “Fine.” Grace started to go, but then she stopped. “And for the record, I don’t think we should carpool again. I’ve got enough things to coordinate as it is. I don’t need another.”

  “Sure. I was going to make cranberry scones for our breakfast tomorrow. I’ll just leave them at your house in the morning so you can get them before you leave and—”

  “No! Sarah—” Grace looked at her, her mouth pressed into a flat line, her eyes sparkling with fury. “Don’t.”

  Sarah recognized the anger and felt the rejection. She tried to think of something to say but couldn’t. So she just nodded.

  Grace wheeled and left, her heels snapping briskly on the library’s wooden floor.

  Behind Sarah, the committee buzzed like hornets stirred with a stick, and with a heavy heart, she returned to the table.

  “It won’t work,” Erma said loudly.

  “You don’t know that!” Kat said. “We have to do something.”

  “But a ‘business outreach’? I don’t even know what that is! None of us do.”

  Ava collected her folder and stood. “I’m with Kat on this one. We have to do something and at least Grace has a plan.”

  “A bad one,” Ed muttered.

  “People are going to be pissed, too.” Erma tapped the folder in front of her. “They won’t care about any of this, I know they won’t.”

  “They won’t understand it,” Ed added.

  Erma frowned. “I won’t be able to show my face at church again.”

  Nate looked at his folder as if it were a snake. “I can’t believe the town is in such bad shape. I mean, I knew our revenue was down, but I had no idea about the loans. How did we not know about those?”

  “They’re old.” Zoe shrugged. “And it’s like Grace said—there’s never been a town council or a board of directors or anyone keeping an eye on things. Just Mayor Moore, and he’s been ignoring them and kicking them down the road for the next generation to pay.”

  “That needs to change,” Erma said sharply.

  Everyone nodded.

  “At least now we know how things stand.” Ava tucked her folder under her arm and slipped her pen into the front pocket of her overalls. “Knowledge is power, right?”

  “I guess.” Ed leaned back in his seat and rubbed his ear. “Geez, what a meeting. I feel as if I’ve been beaten with a stick.” He looked around at the group. “Did you see your task sheets? They’re color coded and there are check boxes beside each item.”

  A reverential look rested on Zoe’s face. “Pure brilliance.”

  Kat closed her folder. “Color schemed or not, it’s going to be a lot of work.”

  “How does the mayor keep a smile on his face?” Erma demanded.

  “He’s a fisherman,” Nate said. “They live on hope.”

  Kat rolled her eyes and stood. “I just hope we can find a way to salvage Dove Pond.”

  Sarah looked at Zoe. “What happens if we fail?”

  Zoe stood and collected her things. “I’d have to check, because our bank doesn’t handle that type of thing. We handle solely private and business accounts and have no public-entity dealings at all. But I’d think the town might have to declare a state of emergency and ask the state for help. That would mean some short-term loans, which will help in keeping the garbage collected and such, but it would add to the town’s long-term financial burden. After that, there will be cuts, services suspended, the elementary school could be folded into another in the county—” She grimaced. “It would be a mess.”

  “But now we have a plan of attack.” Despite feeling wounded by Grace’s anger, Sarah refused to give up hope. She just couldn’t. “Come on. We can do this.”

  “We can at least try,” Ava agreed. She looked at Kat. “Want some coffee?”

  “Hell, yes,” Kat said fervently.

  “Wait for me,” Nate said, joining them as they walked toward the door. “My head is spinning from all those numbers.”

  As they left, Zoe slung her purse over her shoulder. “Erma, you’re right about one thing: people are not going to like this.”

  “They’re going to raise hell is what they’re going to do,” Erma said. “And I don’t blame them.”

  “We’ll have to explain things to them,” Sarah said.

  “If we can,” Zoe said. “I don’t think Grace understands what that festival means to this town, but once word of this meeting gets out, she’ll find out.”

  “I hope people will try to see this in a positive way. I mean, there’s really no other choice.”

  “We can hope.” Zoe slid on a pair of tortoiseshell cat-eye sunglasses. “I’ve got to go. See you kids around.”

  Ed and Erma took their folders and followed Zoe out, and soon Sarah was a
lone.

  She went to the whiteboard, picked up an eraser, and wiped away the diagram. Grace was right. The town needed to expand, to increase, to attract new businesses and more people. But no matter how efficient her ideas were, Grace would never be an effective salesperson for Dove Pond until she understood it and loved it the way Sarah did.

  Sarah dropped the eraser into place and went to collect her folder. She’d gotten Grace involved with the committee once again. That had been a success. But now, some way, somehow, she had to find a way for Grace to connect with their town and the people who lived here.

  CHAPTER 11

  Grace

  The following Thursday, Grace was just locking the door of town hall when a deep rumble of thunder rippled through the air and rain began to pour. It sluiced through town in great sheets, spraying a fine mist onto the porch and pearling on her expensive suit. “Great.” Muttering to herself, Grace fished her umbrella from her satchel, opened it, ducked under, and hurried down the sidewalk toward her car.

  She’d only gone about ten steps when a big pickup truck rolled by. The fat wheels hit a deep puddle at the edge of the road and with a whoosh sent a wall of water raging toward Grace.

  Grace only had time to tip her umbrella in the direction of the wave before it hit her, soaking her skirt and filling her shoes, and leaving her sputtering in outrage. She stood there, staring down at her sopping-wet clothes, icy red rage misting over her.

  She didn’t know how long she stood there, her umbrella still held in a defensive position that left her head uncovered while the rain poured down on her hair and shoulders, but slowly her vision cleared. She raised her umbrella and wiped the water from her eyes with a wet hand, suddenly realizing that Sarah stood on the sidewalk opposite.

  The librarian wore a bright yellow raincoat with matching boots, and carried her usual tote bag, the umbrella over her head printed with a huge, happy ladybug.

  Grace, cold and embarrassed, didn’t move. Water continued to seep through her clothing and hair and ran down her face and shoulders, joining the rain. She was as wet as a drowned rat.