That Man of Mine

by Maria Geraci

  “With a name like Fatback Bubba, I imagine so,” Doreen mused.

  “It is kind of an awesome name, isn’t it?” Mimi agreed.

  “If we technically don’t have the money, then how are we going to pay them?” Bettina asked.

  Mimi hesitated to tell them about Doug’s offer. For one thing, he’d hadn’t actually promised her the money. Didn’t he need the entire city council’s approval for that? Plus, she didn’t want to get him in any trouble. Especially since he’d only been trying to help her.

  Bettina continued to stare at her the way Buttercup sometimes stared at Toby. It was the classic I’m a cat and I’m so much smarter than you, dog look.

  It irked Mimi that the festival committee (and most especially her) had been put in this position by Bettina’s husband, Bruce. Yes, he’d given her Crystal’s contact information, but he’d also dug the festival into a financial hole that would be difficult, if not impossible to climb out of.

  “They want twenty-five percent down when I sign the contract and the rest forty-eight hours before the festival. I know our funds are pretty well tapped out, but I’m investigating some creative financing,” Mimi said vaguely.

  “Creative financing? That sounds…shady,” Bettina said.

  “Oh, yes, very shady,” Sherry said.

  At first, Wendy didn’t say anything. Then Bettina and Sherry turned to look at her.

  “Yes! I agree,” Wendy added. By the confused look on her face it appeared that she had no idea what it was she just “agreed” with.

  “I think Mimi has a good idea here,” Viola said, “but we definitely want to make sure we have the money to pull this off before we commit to hiring a band. What’s wrong with some creative financing? If Mimi can pull it off then I say we give it a shot. I’ve been on the festival committee for almost a decade and this is the worst financial situation we’ve ever been in.”

  The other women began clearing their throats and shuffling in their chairs. Thank God for Viola. It was hard to argue with the truth.

  “Let me see what I can find out,” Mimi said. “I promise I’ll have something solid by the time we meet next week.”

  “And what about advertising?” Sherry snapped, coming back to life. “What’s the budget look like on that?”

  “Not good, I’m afraid,” Mimi said. “Between the police detail for security and all the rentals there’s not much left for advertising. I was thinking…I know we’ve always charged the same amount for the booths, but we might need to increase the rate. Plus… and I know this isn’t going to be popular, but I also think we need to charge for the concert.”

  “But that’s always been a perk of the festival,” Doreen said. “We make our money with the food and drink trucks.”

  A percentage of all the food and drink sold went straight into the festival coffers, but if they didn’t have decent entertainment, then people were going to leave early (the way they did last year) and it wouldn’t matter how much they charged for the booths. If the current financial trend continued this could be Whispering Bay’s last Spring Into Summer festival, and as mayor and head of the festival, it would all be Mimi’s fault. This was not the legacy she planned to leave.

  “It’s true, the food and drink are how we make our money, but we need to make sure we clear enough to pay for the band and leave the festival enough money for next year so they won’t be stuck in the same situation we are. And I’m just not sure we’ll make enough on our concessions to do that.”

  “But how are we going to charge people?” Viola asked. “The quad is open to everyone.”

  “I thought that maybe after the last community act, Hamlet, is it? We could clear the area and then rope it off. From what I understand it will take the band at least an hour to set up their equipment on the stage. Meanwhile, we can charge for admission into the roped off area. Everyone else will just have to hear the band from far away.”

  “That could work,” Doreen said. “But we’d have to have a crew ready on the spot to get all that going.”

  “Which means more money,” Sherry said.

  “Not if we depend on our volunteers to do that,” Mimi suggested.

  Bettina shook her head. “I don’t know. This just isn’t the way we normally do things. I think if we change things up too much then we’re asking for trouble.”

  “Agreed,” said Sherry.

  “Yes! I agree as well,” Wendy said. Her upper lip was covered with sweat.

  “I think Mimi’s ideas are all very exciting,” Viola said, “But I’d like to see more details before I make a decision.”

  They all turned to look at Doreen. If she sided with Bettina and her gang, then Mimi and Viola would be outnumbered. Mimi hid her hands beneath the table and crossed all her fingers. Around the office, Doreen seemed polite but distant. Not an enemy, but definitely not a friend, either. Mimi could only hope she wouldn’t let herself by bullied by Bettina.

  Doreen hesitated only briefly before saying, “I think Viola is right. I like the way Mimi thinks. Let’s get more details before we shoot this down.”

  Bettina looked momentarily jolted. It was obvious she’d expected Doreen to agree with her. “Oh, all right. I guess technically, we are a democracy.” She directed a steely glare at Mimi. “Can you please work out this little plan of yours in writing by next week? Then we’ll discuss it and take a vote.”

  “I’d love to,” Mimi said sweetly.

  Mimi scooped up her paperwork and stuffed it back into her tote. She had one week to get everything together in order to convince the committee to see things her way. Viola, she could sway. Doreen, she wasn’t sure about, but she got the feeling Doreen would be fair. As for Bettina and her cronies? Mimi wasn’t fooling herself. Those three would be a tough sell. Which meant she had a lot of work to do. She’d have to get on it as soon as she got home. Then she remembered she’d promised her mother they’d have a family dinner tonight. Claire was picking Cameron up after soccer practice and Mimi was meeting them directly at Momma and Daddy’s.

  Bettina was still in the parking lot when Mimi went out to her car. Tofu was on her chain, sniffing around the grassy area by Mimi’s minivan. “That went well, don’t you think?” Bettina asked.

  “Sure. It went great.”

  “So, Mimi, I take it congratulations are in order?”

  “For what?”

  “I heard you and Zeke were back together! I knew it would just be a matter of time, of course. You aren’t that stupid.” At the look on Mimi’s face, Bettina began to backtrack. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were, it’s just, well, there’s you,” she put up one hand palm side up to symbolize Mimi, “and then there’s Zeke.” She put up the other hand (Zeke, Mimi supposed) and raised it high above the other.

  She knew she shouldn’t let Bettina get to her. Years of working alongside her in the PTA had taught Mimi that Bettina was only happy when she was making someone else unhappy. But she had more pride than to stand here in The Bistro parking lot and take this shmoltz.

  “Are you implying that I’m not up to Zeke’s standards?”

  “Oh, honey! Not at all. Of course not. But let’s face it. He is an extraordinarily good looking man, and I’ve just been so worried about you, what with all those rumors about Cindy floating around.”

  The backs of Mimi’s eyeballs began to burn.

  “So imagine my relief when I heard that you’d called 911—was it a raccoon scare? Any hoo, that was so clever of you. Getting him to come out to the house in the middle of the night. A man has needs. We all know that. One thing leads to another and—”

  “Zeke and I are not back together.”

  “Oh.” Bettina edged in closer. “I thought—”

  “And he’s not having an affair with Cindy. Or anyone else for that matter. Maybe I’m the one having the affair. Did you ever think of that?”

  “You?” Bettina stared, dumbfounded. Finally. After all these years Mimi had managed to shut her up. Then Bettina started l
aughing. “Oh, Mimi! I always forget what a…strange sense of humor you have!” She yanked Tofu back to her side and bent over to pick her up. “Tofu and I have to go. See you next week!” She scurried off to her BMW and waved before getting into the car.

  “Good lord,” Mimi muttered. Bettina had some nerve. Was she totally clueless? Or did she know how petty she sounded? She had to know. No one could be that dense. Could they?

  Mimi pulled out her keys. She walked up to her car door and was ready to unlock it when she felt something warm and mushy beneath her feet. She glanced down at her shoes. Great. Tofu had left her a present. And Mimi had walked right into it.

  *~*~*

  Of all the places in the parking lot and nearby grassy areas that Tofu could have used to do her business, she’d chosen that tiny little spot that Mimi was sure to step into. Coincidence? Hardly. It was like…Bettina and Tofu shared one evil mind between them.

  Mimi parked the minivan behind Claire’s car in her parents’ driveway. Momma always served dinner at exactly six p.m. with no deviation, and since Mimi didn’t want to get into it with her mother tonight, instead of going home to change shoes, she’d settled for a pair of flip flops she kept in the back seat of her car. She opened the front door to her parents’ house and followed the smell of fried chicken all the way to the kitchen.

  Daddy hovered over the stove, stirring a pot of his famous gravy. He laid down his spoon and went to hug her. “Whatever happens tonight, please remember, I had nothing to do with this,” he whispered in her ear.

  Mimi stiffened. What was Momma up to now? Alex Powers might be over six feet tall, but he was no match for his wife. At least, not in the pants department. “Why do I get the feeling I should get back in my car and drive away?”

  The sound of familiar voices drifted in from the dining room. Mimi went to check it out. The table was set with the everyday china, but it was upstaged by Momma’s special-occasion-only light blue linen tablecloth. Claire and Cameron were already seated at the table, which was set for six. Somewhere in the back of Mimi’s brain, a little warning bell went off.

  Momma noticed her eyeing the extra setting. “Guess who’s coming to dinner?” she asked gleefully.

  “Gosh, I almost hate to answer that.”

  “And all this time we thought Luke was the smart one,” Daddy joked, placing the gravy boat at the corner of the table. He winked at Mimi, so she didn’t take it personally.

  Besides the fried chicken, there was mashed potatoes and corn and the green bean casserole that Momma only made for Thanksgiving. A nice meal to be sure. But certainly not one to merit the blue tablecloth.

  “We’re having a celebration!” Momma said.

  “Awesome,” Mimi replied. “What are we celebrating?”

  “Why, you being mayor of course!” Now it was Momma’s turn to wink at her. “And you know, that other thing, too.” A second bell went off, this one a little bit louder.

  Momma’s gaze took in Mimi’s form fitting peach silk blouse and her tan skirt. She frowned when she got to the flip flops. “Is that what you wore to work today?”

  “My shoes met with an accident.”

  Before Momma could respond, there was a knock on the front door. “I’ll get that,” she said quickly. The bells in Mimi’s head now clanged louder than a five-o-clock alarm. Fried chicken, gravy and green bean casserole. Of course. They were all Zeke’s favorite comfort foods.

  Sure enough, Momma came back accompanied by Zeke. She proudly held up a bouquet of flowers to show to Mimi. “Look what Zeke brought me!” She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “You are just the most thoughtful son-in-law in the entire world!”

  Mimi could have sworn Zeke’s face went red. He deflected any embarrassment he might have felt by handing Daddy a bottle of wine. “For you, Alex.”

  Daddy took the wine and clapped Zeke on the back, man-style. “Thanks, son.” If Mimi didn’t know any better it was like they suddenly liked him better than her.

  “Hey, Dad!” Cameron said happily.

  “Hey, dude.” The two of them bumped fists, then Zeke bent down to kiss the top of Claire’s head.

  “Hi, Daddy,” Claire said quietly. She hadn’t noticed before but Claire’s blue eyes looked red rimmed. Had she been crying? If it wouldn’t draw too much attention, Mimi would pull Claire aside. But it would, so she’d just have to wait till they got home tonight.

  “You want to know what we’re celebrating?” Momma said, “Besides this being your second month anniversary as mayor, we’re also celebrating our reunion as a family!”

  Mimi and Zeke eyed one other uncomfortably. It was the first time since Saturday night that’d she’d seen him and a myriad of emotions roiled through her. She had to admit, he looked nice. He wore dark pleated trousers and a freshly starched long sleeved blue oxford shirt that she didn’t recognize. She used to tease him that if it wasn’t for her he’d never go shopping to buy anything and that one day he’d end up in nothing but rags. Obviously, that wasn’t the case. It seemed that Zeke Grant could get along just fine without her.

  “Momma, can I see you in the kitchen for a minute?”

  “But the chicken will get cold.”

  “It will only take a second,” Mimi persisted.

  “Oh, very well.”

  Mimi waited till Momma closed the kitchen door. “Please tell me this celebration isn’t about some rumor you heard about Zeke and I…um, getting together this past weekend.”

  “Well, of course it is! And I should be angry at you, you know. Instead of hearing it from my own daughter, I had to hear it from Shelby at the beauty salon.”

  “Momma, Zeke and I are not back together,” Mimi said.

  “Why not? You had…relations, didn’t you?”

  Oh God. This was not something she wanted to discuss with her mother of all people. But maybe she should nip this in the bud before Momma got any more ideas up her skirt. “We had sex. It’s what married people do sometimes. Even when they’re not together.”

  “Not together?” Her mother looked bewildered. “I don’t understand you, Mary Margaret.”

  “Well, that’s the problem. You never have, Momma.” The second Mimi said it, she wished she hadn’t because now Momma looked hurt. And there was hot fried chicken in the next room and it was obvious she’d done a lot of work to make tonight special. “I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my plate right now.”

  “Of course,” Momma said stiffly. She opened the kitchen door and waved Mimi through. “Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

  Momma took her place at the table and patted the seat next to her. “Now, Zeke, you sit right here and tell me all about what’s new with you.”

  Despite the lingering sense of tension in the air, dinner wasn’t as bad as it should have been. Daddy and Cameron talked about soccer and school, and Momma kept up a pleasant conversation with Zeke about his job and Allie’s upcoming wedding.

  “So, it’s going to be a smallish affair, then?” Momma asked.

  Since Mimi was handling the wedding details, she decided to answer. “About seventy-five people, so yes, kind of on the intimate side.”

  “Well, I hope we’re invited,” Momma said with strained cheerfulness. No one said anything for a second. She laid down her fork and stared at Mimi. “We are invited, aren’t we? After all, we’re family.”

  “Well, of course you’re invited,” Mimi said. She made a mental note to recheck Allie’s guest list.

  Momma picked up her fork and began eating again. “And you’ll be giving Allie away?” she asked Zeke.

  Mimi’s foot began to jiggle under the table. Damn foot. She willed it to stop.

  “Yes, I will,” Zeke said. He briefly glanced at Mimi, then looked away again.

  “It’s too bad the two of you don’t have any parents left,” Momma continued. “It’s just so sad! Losing your mother at such an early age, and then your father…well, it’s all very sad.”

  Daddy cleared his throat. “You a
lready said that, honey. Anyone want more wine?”

  Mimi gratefully raised her glass and Daddy refilled it. He refilled his own glass, as well.

  Claire shuffled around in her chair. She’d hardly eaten anything all night. “Are you all right?” she asked her daughter.

  “Sure, I’m great,” Claire said. Then she lowered her voice. “Can I leave after dinner?”

  “Leave to go where?” Zeke asked all the way from the other end of the table. How he heard that with Momma still talking into his ear was beyond Mimi. The man must have super hero hearing power.

  “I have homework,” Claire said.

  “Have you ever thought of hiring one of those private investigators?” Momma said to Zeke. “To find out what happened to your father?”

  Mimi took a big chug of her wine.

  “No.” Zeke kept his voice neutral, but Mimi could hear a thousand pounds of tension in that one simple word.

  Momma shrugged. “Oh, well, I suppose after all this time it would be difficult to track him down. Kind of like one of those cold cases you see on T.V.”

  “Grandpa,” Cameron said, “next time you’re at the house I need to show you Toby’s new trick. I taught him how to play basketball.”

  “Really?” Daddy said. “Now that’s impressive.”

  “He just nudges the ball back with his snotty nose whenever Cameron throws it at him,” Claire said.

  “Not true. He can almost dribble!”

  Zeke smiled. “I’d like to see that.”

  “Well, if you were living back at home where you should be, then you’d have it seen it by now,” Momma said in a sweet voice.

  The table went momentarily silent.

  “So!” Daddy said cheerfully, as if they weren’t in the middle of one of the most awkward moments in Powers Grant family history, “Claire, tell us about college. Have you heard from Florida State yet?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have, Grandpa.” She carefully laid down her napkin. “I didn’t get in.”