That's Amore (Weddings by Bella Book #4): A Novel

by Janice Thompson

  “And we’re here for you.” Twila patted my hand. “So what can we do for you? Put up walls?”

  Cecil glanced down from his ladder, eyes wide.

  “Fix meals?” Bonnie Sue offered.

  “I’m great with casseroles,” Jolene added. “I’ve got a tater tot casserole that’s out of this world.” She paused and her nose wrinkled. “I suppose, by way of disclaimer, I should mention that the pastor’s wife had an allergic reaction to the cream of mushroom soup that I put in it, but she’s long since recovered, praise the Lord.”

  “I’m not allergic to mushrooms,” I said. “But I really don’t think you need to go to all that trouble.”

  Jolene waved her hand. “Wouldn’t be a lick of trouble.”

  “Just let us know,” Twila added. “I’ll kill the fatted calf and bring it on over.”

  “Thank you.” I chuckled. “But what I really had in mind for the three of you is a bit different. I wondered if I could put you ladies in charge of marketing and PR for the new wedding facility?”

  “Ooh, we’ll be a fine marketing team!” Bonnie Sue’s eyes widened. “I’ll tell everyone I know to get married right here in this lovely . . .” She glanced around the broken-down room. “This, um, lovely place.”

  “It will be lovely, I promise. Just as soon as D.J. and his men finish up. And Mama’s going to help decorate.”

  “Your mama?” Jolene fanned herself.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Well, honey . . .” Jolene paused as if thinking through her next words. “Your mama is brilliantly talented. Her home is the loveliest I’ve seen on Galveston Island. Truly. But around these here parts, things are a little . . . simpler. Not so froufrou’d up, if you know what I mean.”

  Twila nodded. “What she’s trying to say is this: you need someone local to do your decorating.”

  “Now, I’m not trying to brag, but folks round these parts always say that my home makes them feel as cozy as a bug in a rug.” Bonnie Sue’s eyes glistened with obvious excitement. “I’d be honored if you chose me.”

  I’d been to Bonnie Sue’s home exactly once, and once was enough for me. She had the “bug” part right. The place was so rustic and broken down, I wondered if perhaps some of Splendora’s finest wildlife might be taking refuge in the rafters. The décor left me wondering if I’d stepped back in time. Hello, 1970s, the disco dancers are calling. They want their ball back.

  “I think my niece Blossom has done a lovely job of making her home feel country and yet chic,” Twila said. “Maybe she could help you?”

  “Blossom?” The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place the face.

  “You know, Jasmine and Lily’s older sister? She’s the one who decorated their new home. She’s a natural.”

  Bonnie Sue shrugged. “Whatever you think is best, Bella, but my offer still stands.”

  “I think Blossom will be flattered if you ask for her input,” Twila said. “Very flattered.”

  “The Rigases’ new home is the perfect mix of country and city,” I said. “That’s the look I’m going for. Sort of Texas log cabin meets modern luxury, if that makes any sense.”

  “Makes perfect sense.” Twila leaned my way, her next words clearly meant for my ears alone. “And never you mind about hurting Bonnie Sue’s feelings, not asking her to decorate. You’re safer this way, trust me.”

  “I heard that, Twila.” Bonnie Sue narrowed her gaze. “But I won’t take it personally. I try to let things roll off me, like water off a duck’s back.”

  “Speaking of ducks, that duck décor in your kitchen was outdated in the nineties, Bonnie Sue. Don’t you think it’s time to move into the twenty-first century?”

  This caused a ripple of laughter from Cecil on the scaffolding above. He let out an unexpected snort, which caused Twila to laugh aloud. Bonnie Sue, on the other hand, didn’t take it so well.

  “Well, I never!” She huffed out of the room.

  I started to go after her, but Twila stopped me. “Don’t mind her, Bella. She’d complain if the Lord came down and handed her a hundred-dollar bill. She’s just in a snit because she didn’t get her way. Leave her be. She needs a reality check. That home of hers hasn’t been redecorated since God was a small boy. Maybe this’ll stir her to action.”

  “Maybe, but still . . .” I felt bad about the direction of the conversation.

  “Don’t fret. She’s got the same world to get glad in. Remember, this is Splendora, where things always work out. People always mend fences here.”

  “Well, that’s good.” I’d never known any of these ladies to hold a grudge, anyway.

  “I’m telling you, Bella, you’re going to love it here. The people are so friendly. Not a sour apple in the whole bunch.” Twila’s attention turned to the window as a car pulled up in the parking lot. “Uh-oh.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Oh dear.” Twila fanned herself. “Maybe I spoke too soon.”

  I watched through the window as a rotund fellow with graying hair got out of a black sedan. He wore a slightly outdated business suit, one that put me in mind of something my father might’ve worn in the nineties. The man stood rock-still, staring at the wedding facility. I’d never seen this fellow before but got the sense that we weren’t going to be friends. Maybe it had something to do with the determined look in his steely eyes. Or maybe it had more to do with the powerful, broad-shouldered stance.

  The intimidating man looked just like a character from a television show—one of those police dramas that D.J. loved so much.

  “Who is that?” I asked as he took a few steps toward the building.

  “That, um, is Mayor Deets.” Twila continued to fan herself, now looking a bit pale.

  “Mayor Deets? I’ve never had the pleasure—”

  “Oh, it’s no pleasure, trust me.” Jolene took hold of my arm and attempted to nudge me into the next room.

  Just then, Bonnie Sue came rushing our way. “D-did you s-see who just g-got here?” she huffed, clearly out of breath.

  “Yes,” Jolene said. “How could we miss him?”

  Twila shoved her church bulletin back in her purse. “It’s time to band together, ladies. Keep your eye on the prize. Don’t look back.”

  “What do you mean, Twila?” I asked.

  “Um, Bella?” Twila glanced my way, her eyes widening. “We did forget to tell you one teensy-tiny thing.”

  “What’s that?” I watched as the man headed toward the building.

  Twila clutched my arm. “Mayor Deets might—stress might—have a little problem with your renovation project.”

  “Problem?” I asked. “What sort of problem?”

  “Well now, I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal,” she said. “But even if it is, I wouldn’t worry. I mean, if the good Lord saw fit to protect little David from the mighty Goliath, I’m sure he will be happy to give you the same consideration. I hope.”

  “W-what?” That made no sense at all.

  “I sure hope you’ve got a slingshot handy, Bella.” Bonnie Sue ducked behind me as the front door swung open and the mayor stepped through. “’Cause, honey . . . you’re gonna need it!”

  8

  The Snakes Crawl at Night

  What we don’t need in country music is divisiveness, public criticism of each other, and some arbitrary judgment of what belongs and what doesn’t.

  Charley Pride

  Mayor Deets strode into the room like a peacock strutting its feathers. Not that I’d ever actually seen a peacock strutting its feathers, but I’d certainly heard Aunt Rosa use the term enough to understand its meaning.

  Pompous might be the appropriate word to describe the odd fellow, but I didn’t know him well enough to cast stones. Still, as he headed my way with a tight expression on his face, I felt my courage wane. Maybe I needed a slingshot after all. The nervous chatter from the ladies standing behind me did little to bolster my enthusiasm.

  The man drew near, and for the first tim
e I was struck by his stature, or lack thereof. Despite his overly confident stride and puffed-up expression, the poor guy wasn’t very tall. Maybe five feet three at best. That might even be a stretch.

  I had to give it to him, though—he commanded the room, tall or not. I had the distinct feeling this was not a man to be trifled with.

  “You Bella Neeley?” He spoke the words more as an accusation than a greeting, but the voice, like the man’s height, didn’t match the squared shoulders. He sounded a little . . . squeaky. High-pitched. Not exactly what I’d expected. Maybe my peacock analogy wasn’t so far off after all. I could almost picture the guy doing voice-overs for animated movies.

  “I said, are you Bella Neeley?” he repeated.

  Snapping to attention, I responded, “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  “I’m Mayor Deets.” For a moment I thought he would extend his hand for a friendly Splendora how-do-you-do, but he did not.

  Well, one of us should make an effort. I put my hand out to see if he would take the bait. “It’s nice to meet you, Mayor D—”

  “I’ve come to personally deliver a message from the city council. I do hope you will pay close attention.”

  “Oh?” I pulled back my hand and offered a smile, which I hoped he would take as yet another sign of friendship. “What’s that, Mayor?”

  He looked around, his gaze narrowing. “Perhaps I’m too late.”

  “Too late?” I echoed.

  “Yes, I see that your workers have already started to demolish this beautiful old building. Hmm.”

  “Well, not completely demolish, of course, but we are very excited about the renovation plans, for sure.” I’d just started to share more when he interrupted me.

  “You might want to reconsider that excitement. This is a historical landmark that has been a part of the Splendora scenery for over sixty years. Many a wonderful event has transpired in this room. It’s full of history.”

  “Well, yes, but it was rotting and falling down around us.” Twila stepped out from behind me. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the mayor. “If anyone knows that, you do. Remember the night of your inauguration party when Skeeter Jones fell through the front porch steps? We tried to tell you then that this old relic was beyond help, but would you listen? Anything short of a complete renovation will be just that—short.”

  Okay, so she might’ve overemphasized “short.” And judging from the way he stretched his five-feet-three frame, the mayor had picked up on her real meaning. Still, he refused to back down. If anything, his expression tightened further as he shifted his gaze from Twila to me.

  “I’m not saying you can’t renovate, Mrs. Neeley. You just have to do it within certain boundaries set by the historical society. You will find those stipulations in Code Three on page sixteen of the Splendora bylaws, which were just updated approximately two weeks ago. I’m assuming you have a copy?”

  “A copy of the city’s bylaws? No, I don’t. I’m from Galveston, not Splendora. How would I—”

  “You will find them online at our city council’s website. They’re categorized under ‘Ordinances and Bylaws.’ Our webmaster, my nephew Clayton, is in the process of updating the site, but everything should be up and running shortly, so bear with us a few days.”

  Clayton Deets? Why did that name sound so familiar? Ah yes, the twins had mentioned him. Wasn’t he the editor at the Gazette?

  “Humph.” Jolene snorted. “Last time I tried to use that ridiculous website, it kept sending me to a questionable site for women’s undergarments.”

  “You’re making that up, Jolene.” The mayor crossed his arms and gave her a skeptical look.

  “Am I?” She shrugged. “That’s my story and I’m stickin’ with it, Mayor.” The way she stressed the word “mayor” wasn’t terribly flattering.

  Twila snickered. “You know how those government websites are. You can’t trust ’em.”

  “That’s because they’re run by bureaucrats,” Jolene said. “Too much red tape.”

  “What does tape have to do with the internet, Jolene?” Bonnie Sue shook her head. “I think I’m confused.”

  She wasn’t the only one. I’d almost opted out of this entire conversation several sentences back. The mayor had lost me back at the point where he said we had to follow the city’s bylaws in order to renovate a building that we owned. D.J. would flip when he heard this. Odd that no one had mentioned it before.

  “Wait a minute.” I put my hand up, which Mayor Deets appeared to take as some sort of a physical threat, based on his widened eyes and giant step backward. “I just want to make sure I’m understanding this correctly. You’re saying that we have to follow your plan for fixing up our building?”

  “It’s not my plan. It’s the historical society’s plan.” He mopped the beads of sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. “And it’s all spelled out in the bylaws. Historical landmarks such as this facility have to meet certain standards heretofore set up by the council. If you refuse to abide by our ruling, you will have to cease and desist all work.”

  “But this building belongs to us. Why do we have to design it to meet someone else’s specifications when it’s ours? It’s not like we’re painting it purple and throwing glitter on it.”

  “Ooh, glitter.” Twila clasped her hands together. “I love glitter.”

  “As I said, the city of Splendora has a vested interest in this building because it is a landmark.” The mayor shoved the damp handkerchief into his pocket. “I don’t know how it is on Galveston Island, Mrs. Neeley, but here in Splendora we’re all about the preservation of our historic buildings. We don’t need outsiders coming in and turning our fair city into something it was never meant to be.”

  “Are you saying it was never meant to be a place where dreams come true?” I asked. “Where brides and grooms walk the altar toward marital bliss?”

  He didn’t seem to take the words “marital bliss” very well. Weird.

  “Or are you saying that it’s not meant to be a place where an outsider like me can meet up with new friends and neighbors? Because I’d say this whole conversation isn’t very neighborly, Mr. Deets.”

  “Mayor Deets.”

  “Mayor Deets.” My voice was now trembling in proportion to the rest of my body. Ooh, this man had really gotten to me.

  I could hear the hum of electric sanders in the next room, mingled with the voices of the workmen. I watched as the mayor stood very still, his eyes narrowed. If the petite fellow meant to intimidate me with his silence, it was working. The whole thing felt like a gunfight at the O.K. Corral. Any minute now he’d pull out his gun and I’d reach for mine.

  Not that I owned a gun, but still. Maybe I could use Tres’s plastic pirate sword. That might work.

  “You will comply and so will that husband of yours.” The pitch of Mayor Deets’s voice seemed to elevate more with each word. If he said much more, we’d have to pull him down from the overhead beams. I didn’t get the idea that he planned to say much more, though. Instead, he glared a hole through me.

  I stared back, unsure of what to do next. I found myself mesmerized by his audacity. Hatred blazed in those steely gray eyes . . . but why? What had I ever done to him?

  Just when I hoped he might leave without saying another word, the mayor spoke again. “One final thing, just for the record. Even if you do manage to meet the city’s requirements for the building, which I highly doubt, you need to be made aware of the fact that this building can only house 150 people maximum.”

  “W-what?” We’d counted on a lot more than that, up to 275. Why 150?

  “Who came up with that number, I’d like to know?” Twila put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been to events here for years and we’ve had more people than that. Lots more.”

  “It’s a new requirement. You’ll have to see your city council members for more details. It’s not my doing.”

  “Sure it’s not.” Bonnie Sue rolled her eyes.

  Okay, now this fella
had gone too far. I might not be able to talk any sense into him, but I knew someone who could. Putting on my sweetest voice, I attempted to reason with him. “If you don’t mind, Mayor Deets, I’d like to have you visit with my husband. Surely once you talk to him you can—”

  “I know your husband well.” The mayor pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his brow again. “I’ve known him since he was a kid riding his bike across my front lawn. I wouldn’t imagine he’s got anything to say that I’d be interested in hearing.”

  Hey now. Don’t you go dissing my husband.

  “No need to meet with anyone named Neeley.” The mayor turned toward the door, looking back just long enough to add his final threat. “Just follow the guidelines. That’s all.”

  He took off in a hurry, and Twila, Bonnie Sue, Jolene, and I were left to make sense of what had just happened. I’d never seen the ladies this shaken before, so it totally threw me.

  “That man!” Twila shook her head. “What a piece of work. He’s all broth and no beans.”

  “Oh, he’s loaded with beans, all right,” Jolene said. “Full of gas. All puffed up. But pride goeth before a fall, that’s what I always say. And. He’s. Going. Down.”

  “Pooh.” With a wave of her hand, Twila appeared to dismiss that idea. “Don’t pay him any mind. He thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow. You know how he is.”

  I didn’t know how he was, having never met the man before. Still, all of these ladies seemed to agree that I had nothing to worry about.

  Twila chuckled, but I detected a nervous edge to her laughter. “I would engage him in a battle of wits, but I feel sure he would show up unarmed. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Didn’t seem unarmed to me.” I sighed. “All of that stuff about ordinances and bylaws? Sounds like he’s got the law on his side.”

  “Law, schmaw.” Jolene rolled her eyes. “He’s got council members in his pocket. Nothing more and nothing less. They put their pretty little heads together and came up with exactly the right wording to stop this project from moving forward. I hate to be so blunt, but that’s the long and short of it. There were no ordinances that would’ve applied to this particular building just two short weeks ago. He did this.”