Two Bites Too Many

by Debra H. Goldstein

  This time, Anne responded before Sarah could. “That’s awfully generous, but another one of our sponsors, Southwind, whose restaurant will be open by then, already is hosting a volunteer reception that night. Besides, I expect we’ll be getting volunteers signing up to help as late as YipYeow weekend.”

  “I didn’t realize Southwind was hosting an event that night.” Thomas ran the hand he’d offered the audience through his hair. “But that’s okay. Marcus, where are you?”

  As Thomas peered around the room, Sarah saw Marcus’s hand go up. She hoped this didn’t erupt into a nasty confrontation.

  “Marcus,” Thomas said. “Your new restaurant is a pub concept, isn’t it?”

  When Marcus acknowledged he was correct, Thomas continued. “That’s perfect. Southwind can host a more casual reception while we make Catapalooza Night at the Howellian a true black-tie-optional fund-raising event with a silent and live auction. We can use both receptions as carrots to entice people to sign up to help sooner than later. I don’t know what Marcus is going to charge, but the shelter can advertise the Howellian evening at fifty dollars for members of the volunteer committees and one guest, but seventy-five dollars per person in advance for non-volunteers and a hundred at the door.”

  Marcus was now on his feet. “The Southwind reception will be free to all volunteers.”

  “That’s wonderful, Marcus. You’ll have the local event anyone can come to, and my hotel will help the shelter by reaching an additional donor base. We can market Catapalooza also to animal patrons who live in Birmingham.” Continuing to hold onto his uncle, Thomas gestured like a showman while taking a partial mock bow. “Of course, all proceeds of Catapalooza, after expenses, will go directly to the Wheaton Animal Shelter.”

  “It’s a very nice idea,” Sarah said, “but I think it goes back to what Eloise said earlier this evening. Our volunteer pool is limited. I don’t see how we possibly can man two days of the festival and handle an event in Birmingham, too.”

  “Oh, the volunteers won’t have to do anything for this reception, other than coming and being honored. My team will take care of everything, including decorations, food, and a few auction items. I’ll even donate two paintings from our gallery to give high rollers something to bid on. Turnout should be good because so many people from Wheaton haven’t had a chance to experience the hotel, plus Birmingham has a strong base of animal lovers who can be counted on to take part in a shelter-related fund-raiser.”

  Before any further objections could be raised, Thomas announced Catapalooza was a done deal for the Saturday of the event. He urged everyone to hurry into the dining room to sign up for a committee and grab a treat before they were gone.

  Most of the people followed his directive, but some, like Sarah, stayed behind in the living room. She looked around for Marcus, but he wasn’t in either the dining room or living room. Able to see the front door from where she stood, she observed Anne and Jane slip out without bothering to sign a volunteer list. Apparently, their mission was accomplished. How they took over her meeting irked her, but not as much as the fact she relinquished control without making enough of an effort to get it back.

  “Don’t be mad because things didn’t quite go the way you planned.”

  Sarah jumped. She hadn’t realized Eloise was next to her. “Thomas and Anne have both had a lot of practice handling rooms like this.”

  “That’s why I appreciated you trying to support my position.”

  “It was nothing. I knew how Lance envisioned this festival. He may have been a political animal, but his heart was in the right place when it came to Wheaton and its people.” Her voice cracked. She quickly turned her face away from Sarah.

  It was the first time Sarah had heard Eloise use her boss’s first name. She reached out to give the older woman a hug but stopped when Eloise pivoted back toward her, her executive assistant face back in place. It was Eloise who squeezed Sarah’s arm.

  “Before I go, I want you to know, when he talked about your plan for raising funds for the animal shelter, he told me you were the real thing, too. That’s why the mayor and he were glad, despite having to twist your arm a bit, when you accepted the chairmanship of YipYeow Day.”

  “Thank you. Knowing that means a lot.” Sarah broke off in mid-thought as Thomas, munching on one of Marcus’s cat cookies, joined them. She frowned, unable to dwell on how ironic it was he was here while her sister was stuck working at his hotel in Birmingham. Emily wouldn’t be thrilled to learn she was hosting a black-tie-optional party against what was probably the first event at her own restaurant.

  “I was surprised to see you here tonight, Thomas.”

  “You heard how I feel about Wheaton. I didn’t want to miss the organizational meeting.”

  “It was kind of you to offer to host a reception, but do you really think it’s wise to have two competing events for the same organization on the same evening?”

  “It’s my pleasure to host this because the shelter is something I truly believe in. And don’t worry. Having the two functions the same evening isn’t going to be a problem. Between you and me, we’re going to draw two very different crowds. Catapalooza will have more of a spending crowd coming with a fund-raising mentality while Marcus will host the true volunteer celebrators.”

  “I gathered from what you said, by your team, you were talking about Emily and her staff. Perhaps you should check with her whether they can handle another Saturday-night event before we schedule this reception?” Observing him grasp his cookie so tightly crumbs dropped on her floor, she involuntarily took a step closer to Eloise.

  “Sarah, Emily is employed by me. I think you have a misconception of how things work at the hotel.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late. I better hit the road. With attending the funeral, followed by the hotel hosting the meal for those mourning Lance, it’s going to be a long day.”

  “Probably not as long as Emily and Grace’s today and tomorrow.”

  He put his hat on and tapped its brim with two fingers from his now-unclenched hand. “Touché. Tell you what. I’ll let you know the details of the volunteer appreciation evening after I talk to Emily. Maybe you’ll join me for dinner at the hotel again after this event is over?”

  “We’ll see.” Sarah stood frozen after he walked away. Watching him leave, she seriously questioned if she still wanted to take up cooking for him.

  Eloise interrupted her internalizing anger. “Maddening, isn’t he? His motivation is good, but he’s used to getting it done exactly as he wants.”

  “You sound like you’re talking from the voice of experience.”

  “I am. Remember, I’ve been around him and his kind a lot longer than you. He’s a true entrepreneur. They always have an angle—a piece of the action they hope benefits them. You’ve got to be on your toes because if you get mad, you won’t get even when you must. And, if that’s the case, you also won’t protect those you care about if it ever becomes necessary.”

  Sarah shuddered. She couldn’t help noticing the deep lines caused by Eloise’s taut facial muscles. “You make everything sound so logical and simple. I don’t know why I can’t keep my emotions out of anything I do.”

  Eloise relaxed. “That’s what makes you who you are, as well as the perfect person to lead this fund-raiser. I better be going or you’ll still have me here for breakfast, and I understand you’re not much for whipping up things in the kitchen.”

  They both laughed.

  “Don’t forget to call on me. I may seem demure, but I’m a pretty good organizer and taskmaster. Also, even if Bailey is handling the treasury, you ought to have a finance committee to watch over his shoulder.”

  Sarah was startled by Eloise’s suggestion YipYeow Day should keep an eye on the acting bank president’s handling of the event’s proceeds. She examined her face for a telltale sign of distrust versus simply thinking a finance committee was a good business practice, but Eloise’s expression was again impervious. “Are you t
rying to warn me about something?”

  “If there was something to tell you, I would. I’m simply suggesting what I would do in this situation. This is a big undertaking. Too much for one person to watch every aspect of it. Lance always believed in a system of checks and balances.”

  This time, Sarah didn’t hesitate. She gave the older woman a hug. “It’s getting dark. Are you parked in the driveway or on Main Street?”

  “Neither. I walked.”

  Sarah pointed to where Harlan stood by the open front door waving good-bye to Mr. Rogers. “Why don’t I get Harlan to drive you home?”

  “That won’t be necessary. I like an evening walk, and Main Street is perfectly safe. If there’s one of Marcus’s to-die-for cookies left, I’ll snatch it and be on my way.”

  Sarah, still chuckling at Eloise’s blunt comments, picked up a kitchen chair to return it to the kitchen.

  “Here, let me help you with that.” Bailey took the chair from her. “Where does it go?”

  “In the kitchen. Let me grab another one.”

  With his help, she quickly had all the chairs back where they went. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. I want to talk to you about how we’ll handle the money for YipYeow Day. As I offered, I’ll open an account with the shelter’s name on it tomorrow with the bank’s first thousand dollars. We can set up a box to receive donations at our branch, and I’ll work with Phyllis for how we’ll handle registrations, day-of-the-event adoption fees, and any other pass-through or matching money, like Harlan’s.”

  “Sounds good. Considering all the different aspects of the weekend, I’ll be glad to assign a volunteer finance committee to work with you.”

  “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary. I’ll draft Amanda Taylor, from the bank, to help. She’s taking on new responsibilities and will be eager to work with us on this.” He precluded Sarah from arguing with him by noting he couldn’t permit a non–bank employee to see internal bank records associated with the new account or to even receive the statement from him if they weren’t on the account.

  “With Catapalooza, things will be a little trickier, but I’ll get with Thomas on that. You don’t have to worry about any of the financial details. I’ll prepare a balance sheet and profit and loss statement reflecting everything for Phyllis and you to review. If it’s okay with the two of you, because our lead time is so short, I’ll just do one final accounting instead of providing periodic reports?”

  What he said made sense. The time was so short, she couldn’t argue for a formal finance committee; instead, to appease Eloise’s objection, she’d make sure the volunteer coordinator always had two people manning wherever money might change hands, like the registration desk. “I don’t think anyone will object to that. I know I won’t. Having the financials off my back will leave me time for more fund-raising and logistical concerns. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. I enjoy Wheaton, and this is a good way for me to use my skills to help with a worthwhile project. Need to run, but I’ll be in touch.”

  After walking Bailey to the door, she stayed there with Harlan in the hope the last stragglers would get the hint it was time to leave. Her presence worked. She was just about to close the door on the wafting voices of her final guests drifting down her driveway when screeching tires followed by a scream pierced the night.

  Stepping outside, Sarah saw bright lights flicked on as a car sped down Main Street. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she realized the few people still in her driveway were running toward a woman who stood, facing the street, in the shadows near where Sarah’s fence had been vandalized. Sarah glanced at Harlan and they, too, ran. The screaming woman was Eloise.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Petrified at what she would find, Sarah ran to where a shaking Eloise stood facing Main Street. A group of stragglers from the meeting were trying to comfort Eloise. Sarah pushed her way through them. Eloise didn’t respond when Sarah said her name. Putting a hand on Eloise’s shoulder, Sarah more loudly repeated her name. Still not getting any response, Sarah placed herself in front of Eloise’s face. Only then did Sarah realize Eloise’s eyes were wide open and fixed on something in front of Mr. Rogers’s house. Sarah followed her gaze, but others, who’d already crossed the street, blocked her view.

  After assuring herself Eloise was safe and in good hands, Sarah ventured across Main Street. She stepped carefully. The squashed remains of a flashlight and a cane were strewn across the asphalt. Frightened by the splintered cane’s remnants, Sarah hustled through the semicircle of bystanders.

  Her neighbor, Mr. Rogers, sat on the curb, the knee of his pants ripped. She surmised his hands were also cut or scraped because of the dark stains left wherever he touched the matted hair of the scrawny dog in his lap, who stretched to lick his face.

  Sarah was relieved to see the boyish Dr. Smith seated on the curb, checking Mr. Rogers out. Finished, he rose. While he took a moment to pat the dog, Alvin joined Dr. Smith on the curb. Alvin pulled a notebook from the shirt pocket of his uniform as Dr. Smith held his hands up to hush the crowd of onlookers.

  “Mr. Rogers is fine. He’s got a few scrapes that I’ll stay and clean up, but no need for anyone to worry. Did anyone see what happened?”

  There were murmurs about a car speeding away, but the mumbled consensus seemed to be that by the time anyone reached the end of the driveway, Mr. Rogers was sprawled across the curb and sidewalk, the dog nudging him.

  “Did anyone see the car or anything else?” Alvin asked.

  No one volunteered any further information.

  “If you’ll wait just a moment, I’d like to get your names, please.” He bent closer to where Mr. Rogers still sat. “Mr. Rogers, do you know what happened to you?”

  “Of course. I didn’t hit my head.”

  Everyone laughed. This was the Mr. Rogers they all knew.

  “When I left Sarah’s, I bumped into Eloise and we talked for a few minutes. We said good night and I flicked my flashlight on and was crossing the street when I glimpsed Fluffy here dash from the back of my house toward the front bushes. I stopped midway across the street and shone my flashlight toward the bushes. I was going to sneak up and try coaxing her out of hiding when suddenly I heard the crunch of a car’s tires coming toward me. I sprinted for the sidewalk but tripped, dropping my light and cane. Luckily, I fell forward, breaking my fall with my hands and knee. The car screeched away and Fluffy’s nose nudged my side.”

  “Did you see the car or who was driving it?”

  “No. I fell forward. By the time I turned, it was gone.”

  “Well, it doesn’t sound like there’s anything to keep you folks here. If you’ll all line up, please, I’ll get your names. If anyone thinks of anything in the next few days, call the station and ask for Officer Robinson. Thank you for your patience. In the meantime, Dr. Smith will take Mr. Rogers up to his house and clean his scrapes.”

  “Why don’t you bring Mr. Rogers back to my place? I’ve probably got everything you need, and it might be a good idea to take a quick look at Eloise.” Sarah pointed to where Eloise and the other group of onlookers were on the other side of the street. “It was her screaming that alerted us something was wrong.”

  Mr. Rogers gazed at the dog in his arms, rather than looking where Sarah pointed. “Fluffy?”

  “Bring her along, Mr. Rogers. We’ll see if we can get her cleaned up, too.”

  Dr. Smith helped Mr. Rogers to his feet. Together, with Sarah, they started their parade up Sarah’s driveway, picking up Eloise on their way.

  Back at the house, Sarah hurried to round up alcohol, Neosporin, latex gloves, and bandages, taking only a moment to suggest to Marcus he see if anyone wanted anything to drink.

  Passing her bedroom, she thought about letting RahRah out but decided the interaction between RahRah and Fluffy was too much of an unknown. The last thing she wanted was to add more confusion and tension to the evening.

  By the time she returned with the medical
supplies, Marcus had served everyone who wanted one a drink. Sarah was glad to see color had returned to Eloise’s face. She wondered if her slightly flushed cheeks were attributable to the scotch on the rocks or simply calming down. Either way, she thought Eloise looked a hundred percent better.

  * * *

  Dr. Smith pulled his gloves off, expertly rolling the used gauze and bandage wrappers from his cleanup job into one. “Eloise, you were still on the sidewalk?”

  “Yes. When George stopped midway across the street and called out something about Fluffy, I stood there a minute to watch what he was doing.”

  “Did you see the car that almost hit him?”

  Eloise shook her head. “Like I told Alvin, when he arrived after you were already across the street with George, I was watching George. Even if I saw the car in broad daylight tomorrow, I wouldn’t be able to recognize it. Cars never have been my thing.”

  A small yip from Fluffy drew everyone’s attention back to George. “George, what are you going to do with that dog?”

  “Take her home, give her a bath, and put both of us to bed. To paraphrase Gone with the Wind, I’ll think about the vet and the shelter tomorrow. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I thank you all for your help, but I’ve had enough of this fun.”

  Already half out of his chair with Fluffy in tow, Mr. Rogers was stopped by Dr. Smith grabbing his arm. “My car is outside. Let me run you home. You’ve crossed the street one too many times for tonight.”

  Before Mr. Rogers could squinch his face into a full-out pout, Eloise interrupted. “Are you going in the direction of the strip center, Dr. Smith?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you mind giving me a ride, too? I think I’ve had enough street crossing for tonight, too.”

  “My pleasure. Let’s go, everyone.” With thanks for the drinks and the quick hospital setup, the three departed, leaving only Harlan and Marcus, who Sarah asked to please stay a little longer.