by J. D. Shaw
“What’s that?” Clara asked as they approached the doors which were thrown open revealing the oak-paneled walls that had oversized lithographs of famous novel covers framed like art prints hanging haphazardly. Harriet Nettles was a great librarian, but her interior decorating skills left much to be desired.
“It’s this social networking program on the computer.” Vivienne could hear the murmur of many voices from the conference room and it sounded rather crowded.
“Me use one of those infernal devices?” Clara laughed. “Kathy came in for lunch and told me all about it.”
As they stepped into the room, Vivienne surveyed the scene with disbelief. There were ten rows, split in the middle with five chairs on each side. The first eight rows were full and several more patrons slipped in behind them and claimed more space. “We better find a place quick and save a chair for Kathy.”
Clara guided her to the second to last row on the left and removed the white sweater from her shoulders. She placed it over the aisle chair and then sat down next to it. “Done and done.”
Vivienne sat next to Clara and began to scan the crowd of faces for people she knew. She recognized Tony DiSanto who owned The Leaning Tower of Pizza shop two doors down from her bakery. He was talking to Evelyn Hart, who ran the Lakeside Gift Emporium, his hands a flurry of gestures that seemed quite emphatic.
Two uniformed police officers stood watch at each end near the front of the room where several folding tables had been placed. Vivienne had hoped one of them would be Joshua so she could say hello again in person, but it wasn’t meant to be.
A swath of burgundy cloth had been draped over the tables, giving the entire scene a look of official business. At the center, a tabletop podium of light oak was adorned with a golden placard that had the image of the town flag ringed with the words ‘Cayuga Cove Historic Commission’ around the edge. Atop the podium, a small wooden gavel rested waiting for a hand to bang it to call the meeting to order.
There were small name cards arranged in front of the four chairs that flanked the podium, along with small microphones. Vivienne squinted to read the names, but was too far away to make them out. She knew that Mona Clarke would be seated at the center podium, ready to lay out her plans to the town. Would she use her charm like this morning at the bakery? Or would she take a more aggressive approach like she had with Joshua when he wrote her the ticket?
“So does this count as a second date?” Joshua tapped Vivienne on the shoulder from the row behind her.
She craned her neck around in surprise. He was dressed in civilian clothing again, this time a blue flannel button down shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans and tan cowboy boots. “I was just thinking about you.” She gushed and felt her cheeks burn slightly.
Clara turned slightly to face him with a smile. “What brings you here, Deputy Arkins?”
“Social Butterfly had a notice about a big meeting tonight concerning the future of the town.” He answered in his matter-of-fact voice that refused to give up the location of his accent. “It sounded like something important.”
“Isn’t that the computer thing-a-ma-jig you were talking about earlier?” Clara asked Vivienne.
“Yes.” Vivienne answered. “I haven’t had a chance to use it much.”
“That’s a relief.” Joshua added with a smile. “I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”
Vivienne felt her jaw drop slightly in shock. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“I sent you a note about going to this meeting together but I never heard back.” Joshua feigned a sad face. “I thought maybe getting ignored online would hurt less?”
“I was waiting for your friend request to be accepted.” Vivienne was quick to the defense.
“I did this morning.” Joshua waggled his eyebrows at her.
The heat from her cheeks seemed to radiate to the rest of her body. She had been so busy with baking and getting the store ready she hadn’t checked her computer at home at all. Heck, she hadn’t even been home since she left early in the morning. “I’ve been busy down at the shop.” She stammered.
He reached over and placed his hand back on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I know how busy you’ve been and I was just teasing.”
She loved the feel of his hand on her body. It was warm and she wished he would leave it there for the entire meeting. “Tomorrow is the big day. I hope you can make it for the ribbon cutting at ten.”
He pulled his hand away and scratched the goatee on his chin. “I’m pretty sure that I’m free, unless someone in town decides to act up and break a law.”
“Like Mona Clarke?” Vivienne regretted the comment the moment it passed her lips.
Joshua’s eyes narrowed a bit and he took a deep breath. “Don’t remind me.”
She hated bringing the subject up, especially when Mona was going to be speaking to the room in a few short minutes. “I thought you handled the whole deal like a real professional.” She tried to smooth the awkward moment over. “Frankly, I don’t know what the big fuss was about.”
He nodded politely and leaned back against his chair. “Thank you.”
“And this doesn’t count as a second date, by the way.” She gave a nervous laugh.
His demeanor softened for a moment. “I’m glad to hear that.”
She turned back around as the Historic Commission officers filed into the room and marched up the middle aisle with purpose. As Kathy had explained at the diner a few days ago, the board was composed of five women. First to appear was Victoria Clemens, a tall brunette who had never actually worked a day in her life. She had married well to Stephen Clemens, whose family operated the Harvest Glen Winery on the West side of the lake. She wore a high-end designer outfit that made her look like a model strutting down the fashion runway.
Suzette Powell followed next in line, a petite woman with a dark brown pageboy haircut who looked nervous at the amount of people in the room. Having the misfortune to follow behind Victoria, her modest outfit looked rather frumpy and she kept biting her nails only to catch herself and drop her arms rigidly at her sides. She ran a small catering company out of her home named The Formal Affair. More than a few people had gossiped about the unfortunate coincidence with the name, as her husband Brad Powell was a notorious ladies man who had his share of affairs over the years.
Third in the line that proceeded down the aisle, Mary Ellen Bryce was composed and confident. As the assistant principal at Cayuga Cove Elementary, she frequently clashed with parents when their children violated any of the school’s policies. She was a strong supporter of conformity and many parents in the town still seethed over the pricey school uniforms they were required to buy each school year thanks to her expertise at intimidating the school board and its weak superintendant.
Cassandra Pembroke held tightly to a large yellow notepad as she marched up the aisle. She was a rather plain looking Mother of four grown children who seemed content to keep company in her large home with several pampered cats. She seemed out of place amongst the other officers on the board, but Vivienne knew that back in her glory days she had been quite a social climber with stunning looks to match.
She had married and later divorced a chief financial officer for one of the big banks in Manhattan during the boom of the eighties. Although she had secured a generous amount of alimony, the tempestuous separation had taken its toll on her looks and eventually she just stopped trying to re-capture her youth. Yet, she was the one to call whenever you needed an important contact for anything, and most certainly Mona Clarke wanted to keep in her good graces for needed favors down the road. After all, she had provided several big names for Mayor Clarke’s election campaign that opened their checkbooks for generous donations that practically all but assured his election the previous year.
Last, but certainly not least, Mona Clarke kept several paces behind the others and frequently stopped to nod hello and shake hands with some of the members of the audience who wished to do so. Like her husband, she had learned the fine art
of the firm handshake and sincere look. Even when someone had shouted ‘Queen Mona’ in the crowd, she ignored it and continued to the podium with her usual grace. Taking her place behind the podium, she tapped the gavel five times and brought order to the room. “Order please.”
The general murmur of conversation died off as people hushed each other. Kathy glided into the room just as Harriet Nettles closed the doors. She slipped into her chair and shoved her purse down by Vivienne’s feet. “Sorry I’m late. Something came up that I couldn’t put off.”
Vivienne moved her legs awkwardly to the side as Kathy’s oversized handbag took nearly all the floor space below her. “You’re just in time.” She whispered back as the members sat down at the table to face the audience.
“I call this meeting of the Cayuga Cove Historical Commission to order.” Mona spoke firmly as the microphone amplified her voice over the speakers in the ceiling.
The other board members looked a bit flustered at what to do next. Some fidgeted with pens and paper. Others poured glasses of ice water and looked out at the crowd nervously.
Mona took charge immediately. “I’d like to start this first meeting by thanking all the members of the community who have taken time out of their busy schedules to attend tonight. We look forward to hearing your valuable input this evening.”
“We need to defend our businesses.” Someone shouted from the crowd to which Mona banged the gavel three times in response.
“Please, I must ask that all comments and concerns be raised at the appropriate time.” Mona scanned the room with her eyes, defying another outburst. Satisfied with the quiet, she set the gavel down and continued. “As I said, I appreciate everyone’s time and I’m sure that you’re all going to agree that our plan will benefit the entire town.”
Clara gave Vivienne a slight poke with her elbow. “Do you think Julius Caesar started his last speech that way?” She whispered.
Vivienne smiled and gave her a wink. “Et tu Brute?”
Over the next half hour, Mona proceeded to explain her plan for the refurbishing of Main Street. She utilized a computer and projected several artist renderings of what the building style would look like onto a large screen behind the board members. “As you can see, our design will give all the businesses on Main Street a cohesive look that will entice shoppers to explore and discover. Our inspiration for the design started with Market Street in Corning, New York.” She displayed a series of images as she spoke. “Which when combined with elements from downtown Salem, Massachusetts and the coastal charm of Ogunquit, Maine, will add up to a unique locale irresistible to tourists.”
Vivienne had to admit, the drawings certainly did make Cayuga Cove look like one of the picturesque seaside towns that dotted the New England coastline. The colors and styles were uniform and pleasing to the eye, as were the decorative wooden signs for each of the businesses. The artist had even produced four images of the street decorated for each of the seasons and several oh’s and ah’s came from the assembled audience.
Just as she had done in the bakery with Vivienne, Mona went on to explain how the cosmetic changes would entice tour bus companies to make the town a stop on their lucrative wine trail runs and how the increase in business would bring much needed tax money into the local economy. “By investing in the future, you are helping not only to create a beautiful town to call home,” she paused for dramatic effect, “You are going to create a stable tax base that will help keep costs to taxpayers at a manageable level.”
Her remarks were met with a smattering of applause. “It’s a win-win deal for everyone.”
There were quite a few disgruntled moans afterwards and a low murmur began to stir.
“I move we open the floor for discussion.” Mary Ellen Bryce spoke up sensing the energy of the assembled crowd. As assistant principal it was second nature to use her voice to command attention. Vivienne half expected her to flip the lights on and off as was the norm at so many school assemblies.
“I second the motion.” Suzette Powell spoke into the microphone a little too closely which caused some feedback. She cupped her hands around it which only made more noise.
Victoria pulled Suzette’s hands away and the feedback disappeared, much to the relief of the room.
“Discussion is approved.” Mona tapped the gavel. “There is a microphone set up on the far right of the room, please line up and speak clearly.”
Several patrons jumped to their feet and created a line along the right wall. “Excuse me ladies.” Kathy grabbed her purse and hustled over to the end of the line.
First to speak was Raymond Meeker. He cleared his throat and tapped the microphone with his right hand. “Testing?”
“The microphone is working.” Mary Ellen replied, her voice taking a more harsh tone than before. She squinted at the long line of questioners. “Given the length of the line, I suggest we limit each person to one question.”
“I agree.” Mona gave her approval. “Please proceed.”
“My name is Raymond Meeker of Meeker Jewelers.” He spoke just a little too slow, as if placing an order at a fast food drive-thru speaker. “My concern is the funding for this project.”
“What is your exact concern?” Mona asked.
“The state is flat broke right now.” Raymond wrapped his thumbs around the red suspenders he wore over his starched white dress shirt. “Are we supposed to foot the entire bill for this on our own?”
Mona put on her best smile. “Think of it as a short term personal loan to the town.” She took a sip of her ice water and swallowed hard. “You see, once we get all these improvements made, your investment is going to pay off double, maybe triple when all those tour busses pull into town and mob the local stores. If the state-funding is approved down the road, each business will be reimbursed equally.”
“Do you want to put that in writing?” Raymond asked her.
“I’m not a psychic, Mister Meeker.” Mona shook her head. “I can’t guarantee an exact return any more than I could predict the next lotto numbers.”
“Then why not wait on this until the state can provide funding?” He asked.
“He might have a good point.” Cassandra Pembroke spoke up much to the surprise of everyone. “If not full funding, perhaps we can work out a deal for matching funding?”
“That could take years.” Victoria Clemens interrupted with a wave of her bejeweled right hand. “As someone who knows the wine trail inside and out, I can tell you the longer we wait, the less chance we will ever get put on the map.”
“As someone who knows banking from the inside out, I think we need to put more effort into funding this project through grants and government loans.” Cassandra snapped back.
“Your ex husband knows banking inside and out.” Victoria cast an icy glare at Cassandra. “I hardly think that qualifies you as a financial manager of this project.”
“Any more than being married to a winery owner qualifies you as a vintner.” Cassandra rebuffed the challenge.
“I told you putting her on the board would create problems.” Victoria tried to whisper to Mona, but the microphone picked it up and amplified regardless.
Mona put her hands up in protest. “Ladies, please. This is a hot bed issue to say the least, but we are not here to make personal attacks on who is qualified to do what.” She gave a stern look to each end of the table. “Next question please?”
“I’m Tony DiSanto, from The Leaning Tower of Pizza.” He was dressed in a pair of flour-stained black workpants and a simple white button up shirt that had faded red tomato sauce stains on the sleeves. “So just how much is this going to cost each business owner? Is everyone going to be charged the same amount for the refurbishment?”
Mary Ellen pulled out an electronic tablet device and tapped the screen with her slender fingers. “If we go with the plan presented as of tonight, divided by the number of shops on Main Street, each business would spend approximately three-thousand and fifty dollars and some change.”
An elegantly dressed woman with a bun of salt and pepper hair atop her head approached the microphone next. “I’m Evelyn Hart from Lakeside Gift Emporium.” She spoke softly. “That’s quite an investment from each business. I can’t speak for everyone here, but I’m not afraid to tell this board it hasn’t exactly been a banner year for my store.” She raised a piece of paper up and adjusted the gold wire frame glasses on her nose. “My profits are actually down forty percent from last year.”
“We’re not asking you to refurbish the inside of your shops.” Victoria Clemens fielded the question. “We are only talking about a small cosmetic change to the exterior of each business and a uniform sign to tie it all together.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” An anonymous male voice shouted back from the audience. “You don’t have a business on Main Street.”
Victoria peered into the crowd to try to find the source of the challenge but failed. She brushed her long brown hair back with her hands. “As a matter of fact, Harvest Glen Winery is going to open a small tasting room and gift shop on Main Street next spring. So I do have a stake in this, thank you.”
Several more members continued to barrage the board with questions about footing the bill and how much everything was going to cost. Mona and her officers did their best to provide answers but the crowd wasn’t too convinced by their efforts.
At one point, the discussion turned to the issue of tenant parking on the street and the board was raked over the coals by several apartment dwellers who resented the proposed plan to make them park in lots two streets over to provide ease of customer access.
“One last question and we must close discussion and move on.” Mona’s voice was strained from her impassioned pleas and saleswoman techniques.
Kathy stood before the microphone. “Kathy Hemmings, owner of Trade Winds Clothier.”
“Hello Miss Hemmings.” Mona’s voice was cold. “It’s so nice to have such an active participant in the audience.” She gestured to the audience. “I hear we have you to thank for such a vigorous turnout tonight.”
