Getting Lucky

by Carolyn Brown

  "We are here to discuss putting plans in motion for a holiday theme somewhat like the one we have on the Fourth of July. We need to make our decisions now so I can contact the vendors who are eager to come back with their fall merchandise," she said.

  Julie stood on the fringe of the crowd of maybe forty people. Some had brought their lawn chairs, but she and Annie stood to one side of the gazebo. She was there to support Mamie, although after her stunt concerning the rodeo she'd had second thoughts about it. Mamie had admitted on the way home that she had indeed known that Griffin would be at the rodeo but in her opinion Julie needed to see more of him, not less. And that she'd wondered about Annie when she saw her picture. Her opinion was that Julie should be his friend since he was Annie's biological uncle, and they should work together for the girls' sake. Julie had set her straight when she told her that Annie was a Donavan and would never fit into that Luckadeau bunch.

  Mamie had told her to look at Annie's hair. She was a Luckadeau no matter what name was on her birth certificate.

  "This is an open forum. Does anyone have anything to say?" Mamie asked.

  Julie had plenty to say now that she'd slept on the idea, but it had nothing to do with a hoorah for the winter holidays. Most of it had to do with the sleepless night she'd had and the grumpy mood she'd awakened in that morning. Griffin had haunted her dreams. It was definitely him and not his brother. Griffin had hair in her dreams. Graham never did. The few times she dreamed about Graham he'd been leaving the hotel room, closing the door behind him. When she dreamed about Griffin, she awoke in a sweat, aching for a man's arms around her.

  "I've got two bits to put into the pot," Clarice left her chair and marched up to the gazebo.

  Julie looked at the older woman and guessed by the way she was walking and the tilt of her chin that she must be the head she-coon of Saint Jo. Maybe of all Montague County. Hopefully, she'd be for the idea and not against it.

  Mamie stepped aside and let her have the soap box.

  Clarice took control instantly with a dirty look toward Mamie. "I'm against this silly notion. We've had the Fourth of July festival for as long as I can remember and that's a long time. It brings in people and money but it also brings in riffraff and bad things. I'd be for canceling it in a heartbeat. I damn sure won't vote for any such tomfoolery around the holidays. We've already got more dope in Montague County than we need and that's the kind that comes to these things. Y'all are crazy as hell if you think it'll bring money into the town. We'll lose things out of our stores and our homes with all that foreign trash coming in here. We'll lose money because the jail will be full of shoplifters and drunks, not to mention drug dealers. It'd be a perfect place for them to snatch away the kids or to sell them dope. No, I vote that this damn crazy idea be abolished." She clapped her hands together in a dramatic gesture and snapped her mouth shut.

  "Well, that's negative," Julie muttered.

  Clarice squinted at her. "What did you say? You got something to say about me you just march up here and deliver it. Don't be mumblin' under your breath."

  Julie stepped right up into the gazebo with Clarice. The woman wasn't nearly so intimidating when she was standing beside her. She had dyed hair the color of a black stove pipe, wore a long-sleeved black polyester pantsuit in the middle of the summer, and her nails had recently been done in a bright red enamel to match toenails peeking out from her black sandals. At least all of her nails but the thumbs—they were shiny gold.

  "Now what did you say?" Clarice glared at her.

  Julie already had a chip on her shoulder labeled Luckadeau. She didn't give a royal damn if the one on the other shoulder bore Clarice's name. The woman had no right to look at Mamie like that or to talk down to Julie, either.

  "I am the new kindergarten teacher in Saint Jo. I came to this place because it's small and a nice place to raise my daughter, Annie. But anyone can see that the town is about to dry up and blow away. Without some planning it's going to be listed on the ghost town registry for the state of Texas. It needs money put back into it. Shops need to be reopened around this square, empty buildings filled up again. It can still be a small town and have small-town charm, but it doesn't have to be a trashy small town. Let's get behind Mamie and support this idea. Folks might see what I did if they come around for a parade or a festival. They'll see potential for growth and could come back and invest in opening a store or putting in a café."

  "I disagree," a masculine voice said from the back.

  Julie would recognize that voice anywhere. She looked out over the tops of people's heads and saw Griffin holding Lizzy's hand. Annie was tugging against Mamie's hand trying to get to her friend. Couldn't she go anywhere that Griffin didn't show up? Next thing she knew he'd be sitting at the end of her garden when she went out to hoe the weeds. If he was, he'd better get ready for the business end of the hoe to be applied to his hard head. Her crazy heart threw in an extra beat but then her temper set it to beating right on time. How dare he show up at their meeting and disagree with Mamie?

  "Then by all means step right up here and tell us why," Julie said.

  He made his way to the gazebo, filling the small space left with his large frame. He looked out over the crowd for a second before he began. Although no one else knew, he was trying to control his thumping heart. One look at the woman and all he wanted to do was take her home to his bed. He hadn't been so intrigued by a woman in his whole life. Not even his ex-wife, Dian, was in every waking thought and haunted his dreams at night, too.

  Finally, he spoke. "Saint Jo won't ever be a ghost town. Don't let this new citified schoolteacher tell you anything like that. She came from a bigger town and if she don't like the way we do things, she can go back to it. Our little town can only support one festival a year. We have to hire extra help to pick up trash and we have to bring in the porta-potties for that day. It'll just be an extra expense to have another festival," Griffin said.

  Julie popped her hands on her hips and debated with him, "In Jefferson, the town was about to dry up and blow away, somewhat like this one. But the merchants rallied around and now it's one of the best little bed-and-breakfast and tourist towns over near the Louisiana border."

  "You like it so well, then go back there and help them keep it that way," Griffin looked down at her. That was his biggest mistake of the day. He should have kept his eyes on any old rancher in the crowd and never looked at her. One look into those daring green eyes had him ready to pay for the whole festival himself if she wanted it. But he'd taken his stand and no woman was going to lead Griffin Luckadeau around by the nose ever again.

  Julie shot him her meanest look. He was making it personal and trying to knock her out of the saddle every time she put a foot in the stirrup. She inhaled deeply. The policeman standing back there with a toothpick in his mouth would take her to jail if she picked up the nearest empty lawn chair and bent the aluminum frame over his head, but that's what she wanted to do.

  "I've stated my opinion. I rest my case. I'm supporting Mamie. Those naysayers who think it's a bad idea should go on home. The rest of you stay and we'll put our ideas together for the festival. It won't hurt to try it one year. If it puts everyone in the red, then cancel it another year," she said.

  "I'd be willin' to give it my vote for one time," Everett Mason said from the front row.

  "Everett, you old fool. You came here to side with me," Clarice said.

  "And I do. I think it's tomfoolery, but let these foolish youngun's try it their way. Time it's over and they're having to dig in their pockets to pay for this crazy idea, they'll be running back to us with their tails between their legs," he said.

  Clarice glared first at Julie, then at Mamie who was keeping an eye on Lizzy and Annie. "You'd think Griff's word would be more important than these two. Mamie just wants to get people in her store. This schoolteacher ain't got the sense the good lord give a piss ant. Griff was born and raised here. He knows how things has been done and how we need to keep th
em the same."

  Julie had had no intentions of getting into the middle of a city argument. How in the hell had she gotten so entangled in it that she'd already made the big-shot woman in town angry?

  "Do we vote or what?" Clarice asked.

  "No, we don't vote," a lady said from the middle of the crowd. "Clarice, this ain't London and you ain't the queen of England. You might have had the title for queen of Montague County, Texas, back when we was young and full of piss and vinegar, but we're old. It's time to let these young folks have a go at the business."

  Clarice's face was a picture of rage. "You shut up, Alvera."

  Alvera made her way to the gazebo from the outer fringes of the group.

  Julie didn't know whether to run for her life or stay and take a chance of getting scratched when the claws came out, because a cat fight was definitely on its way. Either way she could have kissed the woman making her way toward the gazebo. Their bantering had made her forget about Griffin. Alvera wore jeans that were an inch too short and too baggy in the hind end. Her T-shirt was faded and her gray hair cut in a short cut that required very little upkeep. She was almost six feet tall and her face was a study in angles and wrinkles. Clarice had to be on mind-altering drugs to stand there and argue with a force like that.

  Alvera bumped Clarice with a bony butt when she reached the gazebo. "It's my turn. This is an open forum with no agenda so I get my say-so just like you do."

  Clarice set her mouth in a firm line. Her jaw muscles gritted with suppressed anger but she stepped aside and gave her spot to Alvera.

  "No one cares about your opinion," she whispered.

  "And everyone gives a shit about yours?" Alvera whispered back.

  She raised her voice so everyone could hear. "I'm glad to see the young folks and the new ones comin' in here have an interest in our community. They've got some good ideas and they're the ones who're goin' to be seein' to it that Saint Jo doesn't rot and fall down around everyone's ears before too many years. Give 'em some rein. Support 'em. We need to stand behind these kids as they try to fill our boots. How in the hell are they going to succeed if we knock 'em down every time they come up with an idea? And that's my opinion."

  "You are an old idiot," Clarice said out the side of her mouth.

  "And you are an old idiot with dyed hair," Alvera shot back as she left the gazebo.

  "Mamie?" Griffin said from the other side of the gazebo where he'd retreated when Alvera started up the two steps into the gazebo. He was grateful for the few feet of space and the few minutes of time away from Julie. Just being in close proximity to her was making him sweat.

  "There's no vote to it. Either the city agrees and the police force says they'll back us, or we don't do it," she said.

  "Let's all think on it for a week. The next real meeting of the city council is a week from Tuesday. We'll all attend and have a show of hands then," Griffin suggested.

  It was a good idea but the fact that Griffin came up with it instead of Julie sure didn't settle well.

  Mamie spoke up from the rear of the group. "I agree. Be thinkin' about the issue and if you are for it, bring your ideas to the meeting. If you aren't, bring your reasons why."

  Clarice folded her arms over her chest. "Seems like a bunch of hogwash to me. Me and Everett and the rest of the folks was runnin' this place before y'all kids was dry behind the ears. We know what's best. You'd do well to listen to us."

  "She makes as much sense as a bull calf fartin' in the wind," Alvera piped up from her lawn chair.

  "Alvera, you'd argue with a stop sign," Clarice yelled.

  Alvera smiled. "I would if I thought I was right and the damn thing was wrong."

  Griffin spoke up. "Okay, let's all stew on it a week."

  "Thank God some kids has sense," Clarice said.

  "That's the first thing you've said all evening that has any truth to it." Alvera wasn't finished arguing.

  "Refreshments are ready in my store," Mamie yelled.

  Several people made their way across the lawn and into her place. By the time Julie and Annie arrived, the store was packed. Everyone had a cup of punch and a cookie or else they were waiting in line to get one. Julie held Annie's hand tightly and got in line behind Griffin and Lizzy.

  "Why are you for such a thing?" Griffin asked. Frankly, he'd gone to the town meeting undecided whether he'd want another festival or not. It was Julie being for it that had caused him to speak up against it. Maybe if they were on opposite sides he'd see her for the conniving witch she had to be.

  "Why are you against it?" she shot right back. Frankly, she didn't give a damn whether Saint Jo had one festival, two festivals, or not a blessed one. But Mamie thought it was a good idea and Mamie was her friend, so she would support her. Well, there was the fact that Griffin was against it, too. Maybe if they were on opposite sides she'd see him for the egotistical, domineering Texan he was and stop fantasizing about him being a wonderful man.

  He leaned against a display case. "Because Clarice is right. It's going to bring in the riffraff. Are you even remotely aware of the drug problems around here? Didn't you do a bit of homework before you moved to this area? Don't tell me you had the preconceived notion that Saint Jo was Mayberry."

  "Every town has its problems. I didn't move here with my head in the sand, but there's also no reason why Saint Jo couldn't grow," she said.

  He shook his head and moved over to talk to Everett, a round man in bibbed overalls and a faded blue shirt. Julie would never have pegged him as one of the town's more prominent citizens.

  Mamie made her way through the crowd of people in her small store. "You'd never guess Alvera and Everett are wealthy ranchers, would you?"

  "I figured Clarice owned the town. Thank God for Alvera and Everett. At least they're not as negative as Clarice," Julie whispered.

  Evidently all that black hair dye had not harmed Clarice's hearing one bit. She raised her head and shot Julie a look across the room meant to turn her into nothing more than a slightly greasy spot on Mamie's floor. Without blinking she pushed a couple of men aside and came to stand nose to nose with Julie. "Miss Donavan, I do not like you. I shall talk to Catherine Amos this week and you will not be back to teach in Saint Jo next year, so your opinion matters less than a frog's ass in my town. Don't get too comfortable and don't be thinkin' to take any of Griff's money just because his brother went to bed with you and you have a Luckadeau child. I've heard all about you and your kind is the riffraff we don't need in Saint Jo."

  Alvera spoke up from near the refreshment table. "Clarice, that's enough of your mudslinging. You want to taste a little mud, I can give you a mouth full. Eat your cookie and think about something that won't raise your blood pressure."

  Julie wanted to hide under a table or else hurry up or get the hell out of Dodge—or Saint Jo as the case was. As red as her face was after that comment from Clarice, she wasn't totally sure she wouldn't set the place on fire. That hateful woman had just outed her and Annie both with her smart mouth. What everyone had wondered about was now out there in living Technicolor on the big screen—Graham Luckadeau had an illegitimate daughter.

  "What have I gotten myself into?" Julie whispered.

  People stole sideways glances at her and then at Annie and Lizzy sitting side by side on a bench beside the cash register.

  So much for keeping Annie's parentage a secret. She might as well stand up on the display case and give them intimate details of that night she spent with Graham Luckadeau.

  Alvera made her way through the crowd to Julie's side. "Don't listen to that old bag. She thinks she runs the whole damn county and that governors and presidents are in her pocket. Hell, honey, they wouldn't know her from an old Dallas bag lady. She's all hat and no cattle."

  "Thank you," Julie said.

  "So that's Graham's daughter, is it? Nice that she's back around her family. You're a fine asset to our community. And don't worry about Catherine Amos. She's my sister. You ain't goin' nowhere.
"

  Chapter 6

  A HOT WIND BLEW THE TREE LEAVES, THE HEAT ALMOST cooking Julie's fair skin. They waited on the porch, Julie making a list with her pencil and paper, and Annie spinning around the yard like a ballerina. She'd applied a liberal dose of sunblock on all her bare skin and then went to work on Annie before tucking the tube into her tote bag. According to Mamie, who'd been to these regattas before, she needed a quilt to toss out on the grass around the lake, sun block, extra clothing for Annie, and an appetite. Mamie was bringing a cooler full of beer, soda pop, water, and sandwich makings for lunch.

  Annie's dog ears flopped with every jump. "I love living here Momma. It's so much fun."

  "Even when you have to help me make squash relish?" Julie asked.