by Debby Mayne
“We heard you talking,” Naomi said. “And you’re right. We do have something up our sleeves. We want Pamela to know she’s not the only one with good ideas.” She looked directly at Bethany with a Cheshire-cat grin. “So we invited her and Andy.”
Pete leaned back, still smiling, and folded his arms. “What kind of ideas are you talking about?”
Naomi turned to Miss Gertie. “Do you want to tell them, or should I?”
A stricken look flashed across Miss Gertie’s face. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“Too late now, Mom. Spill.” Pete’s smile faded.
“Don’t get all worked up, Gertie. These are smart kids. They’ll know what’s going on as soon as we open our mouths.”
Miss Gertie made a harrumphing sound and stomped out of the dining room, leaving Bethany and Pete to stare at Naomi. “Okay, so what’s going on?” Bethany asked.
Naomi lifted her hand and tapped her finger to her chin. “You know how Pamela is always trying to concoct a way to bring more people to Bloomfield, and once they’re here, she does everything she can think of to make them stay?”
“She’s always done that,” Pete said.
“It’s obviously not working all that well, because we still haven’t reached our population goal of ten thousand.” Naomi rolled her eyes. “Even though I think it’s about the silliest thing I’ve ever heard of, I’ve decided to go along with her and help her out. You know how—”
Bethany planted her fist on her hip and glared at her mother. “Stop going off track. What’s your latest plan?” She had a bad feeling about this, but she also knew there was nothing she could do once her mother set her mind to something—especially if she had a partner in crime.
“A reward program.”
“Reward?” Pete unfolded his arms and looked at Naomi with suspicion. “As in paying people?”
“Something like that, yeah.” Naomi glanced around, discomfort written all over her face. “We need to give people incentive to make Bloomfield their home.”
“Isn’t the reward of living here enough?” Bethany asked.
Naomi shook her head. “Obviously not, or we’d be overflowing with new house permits.” She chuckled. “Actually, Gertie and I thought up the most ridiculous thing we could to get Pamela off our backs.”
“If it’s so ridiculous, what makes you think she’ll buy into it?”
Naomi cackled. “Oh, trust me, she won’t. Pamela’s a smart woman.”
“Then why bother?”
“She will either embrace it to keep us busy or she’ll tell us how stupid our idea is and then back off and let things happen naturally.” She cast a glance at Gertie who nodded. “I don’t really care which way it goes ’cause I don’t have anything better to do.”
“But—” The doorbell rang before Bethany could finish. “I’ll get that.”
The second she opened the door, Pamela Jasper burst into chatter, waving her hands around, showing off her latest manicure—this one featuring pearlized snowflakes against an azure background. “Sorry we’re late, but Andy didn’t want to leave his precious bird alone.” Even though Pamela rolled her eyes, Bethany could tell the woman didn’t mind.
Andy hung back, a sheepish expression on his face and a birdcage dangling from his hand. “Is it okay . . . I mean, do you mind that I brought Murray?”
“I’m okay with it if everyone else is,” Miss Gertie said, looking at Bethany.
Bethany glanced down at the gigantic parrot staring at her. “Of course, I don’t mind. That is, he’ll be in the cage the whole time, right?”
Andy chuckled. “As long as I don’t turn my back on him, yeah, he’ll stay in his cage.”
Pamela made a face. “That bird is an escape artist. I don’t get why you don’t just put a lock on it.”
“You know how it upsets him.” Andy’s frown let Bethany know this was a long source of contention.
“He’ll get over it.” Pamela forged ahead. “I don’t want to just show up and eat. What can I do to help?”
Naomi let out an incredulous huff. “You’re already late, Pamela. There’s not much left to do.”
“You don’t have to get testy with me.” Pamela’s eyes bulged as she and Naomi did one of their stare-downs. “I’m being nice.”
“Mom,” Bethany said as she touched her mother’s arm. “Please don’t . . .”
Naomi yanked her arm away. “I just tell it like it is.”
“C’mon, Ms. Jasper. You can give me a hand with the ice.”
As Pamela followed Pete into the kitchen, Bethany heard Pamela chattering nonstop. “Ice is a one-person job, Pete. I don’t have to give you a hand. One of us can get it, but not both.”
Pete glanced over his shoulder at Bethany and grinned. “Okay, just let me know if you want to do it, so I can do something else.”
“I don’t want to do it, but I will.”
The sound of Andy mumbling behind Bethany caught her attention. She spun around and saw that he was still standing there holding the cage. “Would you like to put Murray down?”
“That would be nice. Where will I be sitting? Murray likes to be close to me, or he might squawk us right out of the dining room.”
Bethany had heard the volume of noise Murray could make, so she knew exactly what Andy was talking about. “I’m not sure. Let me go ask Miss Gertie.”
Fifteen minutes later, everyone was seated, and Murray was perched in the cage directly between Andy and Pete. Pamela insisted on saying the blessing. She was halfway finished when Murray decided it was time to remind everyone of his presence. “Amen . . . squawk . . . Let’s eat!”
Pete had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing. He opened one eye and caught Andy scowling at his bird.
Pamela cleared her throat and continued. “Lord, bless this food we are about to eat, and remind us of how fortunate we are to be surrounded by such good friends—”
“Good food, good friends, let’s eat . . . squawk . . . Amen!”
This time, Pete couldn’t hold back the laughter. Pamela finally expelled a breath of exasperation and said, “Amen.” When Pete opened his eyes, he noticed amusement on everyone’s faces, except Pamela’s.
Chapter 3
Throughout dinner, Murray made up for Andy’s reticence by letting his voice be heard. He had opinions about everything from beautifying Bloomfield, “Beautiful flowers . . . squawk . . . win the trophy!” to increasing the population, “Ten thousand or bust . . . squawk . . . ten thousand or bust!”
“Cut it out, Murray!” Pamela snapped.
Andy leaned away and gave her one of his you’re-kidding looks. “What’re you talkin’ about, Pamela? You taught him to say that.”
Pamela lifted her chin. “He needs to learn there’s a time and a place . . .”
“He’s a bird.” Andy shook his head and laughed. “What do you expect?”
“Nice birdie . . . squawk!”
Everyone laughed, until Pamela gave each person one of her no-nonsense scowls. Pete had to use his napkin to cover the smile he couldn’t erase, and he saw Bethany struggled with the same thing.
“Oh, for Pete’s sa—” Naomi grinned at Pete. “I mean, for heaven’s sake, I think Murray is a cute bird. A little too much of a ham, but even you have to admit, Pamela, he’s pretty funny.”
The low growl that came from Pamela’s throat showed just how amusing she thought he was. Pete glanced over at his mom and saw she’d started fidgeting again.
By dessert, Pamela’s annoyance toward Murray grew to epic proportions; her fingernails fluttered double-time, and her voice grew shriller by the second. Pete continued to hide his amusement as Naomi took every opportunity to pop a retort back at Pamela’s comments. Those two women were so much alike they appeared not to like each other, but he knew better. They’d been friends ev
er since Pamela took over presidency of the garden club, a job Naomi once held but didn’t want any more, even though she wasn’t willing to give up all control.
“Can’t you make him be quiet?” Pamela finally said. “We’re trying to hold a conversation here, and his squawking is making it nearly impossible.”
“Bad birdie . . . squawk!” Murray buried his head beneath his wing. Pamela turned to Naomi. “Okay, so tell me what you and Gertie cooked up.”
“We were thinking . . . at least I was thinking and Gertie agreed with me . . . that maybe we can have some sort of reward program to bring people to Bloomfield.”
“Reward?” Pamela tilted her head. “I don’t think—”
Naomi lifted her hand. “You want people to move here, right? We can give them some sort of incentive.”
“Like what?”
Pete’s mother spoke up this time. “For starters, we can give prizes to existing residents for bringing people to one of our events.”
Naomi nodded. “And once people sign a lease or a contract to move, we can give them a welcome-to-Bloomfield gift.”
“That sounds—”
“Ridiculous?” Andy offered.
Pamela scowled at Andy, pursed her lips, and gave the concept some thought. “When would you want to do this?”
“Soon.” Naomi looked at Gertie who nodded her agreement. “In fact, the sooner the better.”
Pamela’s forehead crinkled. “We already have the Annual Bloomfield Rummage Sale coming up. Maybe afterward . . . or . . .” Her eyes lit up. “We can have a festival and do both!” She waved her hands around in excitement, almost smacking Andy in the face. “It’ll be a regular party, and that’ll certainly make people want to move here. Everyone loves a party!”
“Party hearty . . . squawk!”
“Stop that, you silly bird!” Pamela glared at Murray. “You need to learn when to keep your beak shut.”
Pete noticed Naomi’s lips twitching, and he didn’t miss her exchanged glance with his mom. Fortunately, they didn’t say what he suspected they were thinking—that Pamela’s squawk was just as annoying as Murray’s.
“Did you ever go through that junk Belva collected?” Naomi asked Bethany, clearly to change the subject and take the attention away from Pamela.
Pete cringed. This didn’t seem like the time or place to bring up that topic, but Bethany stood up to her. “You know good and well I can’t just get rid of her stuff. She wanted Ashley to have some of it.”
“Then you might want to donate some of your knickknacks to our . . .” Naomi looked around at everyone and smiled. “Our cause. Your house isn’t big enough for junk from the houses of two pack rats.” Naomi leaned back, glanced at Pamela who nodded, and turned back to face Bethany. “You can do double good by letting us sell some of it at the rummage sale.”
Bethany frowned. “Maybe I can go through it when Ashley comes home on break. I just don’t want to give away anything she might want later. That wouldn’t be right.”
Naomi’s eyebrows came together as her face puckered. “What’s not right is the fire hazard you’ve created. When was the last time you dusted the baseboards? You can’t even see ’em because there’s so much clutter in that little house of yours—”
Pamela nodded her agreement. “You really need to listen to your mother, Bethany. It’s not healthy to have such a mess in your house.”
Pete had heard enough. “That’s enough, ladies. I think she knows how you feel.”
“We just wanted to make sure—”
He scooted his chair back and stood to further drive his point home. “Anyone want anything from the kitchen while I’m up?”
His mother jumped up. “I’ll go with you and get more tea.”
He started to tell her he’d get it, but she gave him a look that let him know she wanted to talk. Once they were out of hearing distance, she shook her head. “Those two women can be so overbearing on their own, but when they agree on something . . .” She sighed. “Poor Bethany.”
“Yes, poor Bethany, but you knew how they could be before you invited them.” He paused. “Now I’m concerned about how Naomi backed Bethany into a corner.”
“Naomi has always done that.” His mom’s gaze slowly met his. “I suspect that’s why all her kids moved away, and why I tried so hard to let you live your life as you saw fit. Maybe I went too far in the other direction.”
“What are you talking about?” Pete closed the distance between them and placed his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “You’ve always been the perfect mom.”
“But you haven’t given me any grandkids yet, and I’m afraid it’s too late.” She cleared her throat. “My only hope now is that you’ll meet someone who already has children.”
He removed his hand, took a step back, and leaned away. “Oh, so that’s what this is all about.”
“What what’s all about?”
“This whole dinner tonight. It’s a setup.”
“You should know better than that. I think it’s pretty obvious we were trying to give Pamela some ridiculous idea about how to bring more people to Bloomfield . . . not thinking she’d actually buy into it.”
Pete held her gaze. “So you don’t have any notion of getting Bethany and me together? Be honest with me.”
She blinked and glanced down. “I can’t honestly say I wasn’t hoping something would happen . . . you know.”
“Look, Mom, I’ve known Bethany all my life.” He paused. “We’re good friends, and I want it to stay that way.”
“But—”
He lifted a finger to silence her. “Let’s just hope Bethany hasn’t caught on, or she might never want to see me again.”
A stricken look crossed his mother’s face. “That would be awful.”
He didn’t want her to feel too bad. “If that’s the case, I’m sure she’ll get over it. Bethany and I are good enough friends that I think we can get through this little setup without too many scars.”
“Let’s hope so.” She took a step toward the dining room, stopped, and glanced around the kitchen. “I better not go out there empty-handed, or they’ll think we were talking about them.”
Pete laughed. “We wouldn’t want them to know the truth, would we?”
The look she gave him made him laugh even harder. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of tea. “I’ll see if anyone wants a refill.”
The instant Pete and his mom returned to the dining room, Bethany sensed something different between them. Not only did Pete avoid her gaze, his mom’s overly polite demeanor toward him seemed awkward.
Andy’s gaze darted back and forth between her and Pete, so she suspected he was aware of something as well. Even Murray remained quiet—at least for a few minutes—until the conversation got back on a more natural track. Then he started squawking again.
Pamela finally pushed back and picked up her plate from the table. “Let’s clean up now. I don’t know how much more of Murray’s interruptions I can take.”
Bethany wondered how Pamela and Andy ever had time to themselves with Murray around. They’d been dating for at least a dozen years. Both of them were widowed—Andy as a young man when his wife was killed shortly after they were married and Pamela when her much older husband died of a heart attack. Bethany had heard the story many times about how Andy came to her rescue during her grief, and how he’d never left.
That reminded her of how Pete had been there for her after Charlie had passed, but her situation was a tad different. She and Pete had always been good friends, so any thought of romance would be awkward. That still didn’t erase the tingle she felt whenever he looked at her a certain way. She glanced over at him and gasped before rubbing the goose bumps that prickled her arm. He was doing it again!
“Stop acting like a love-struck schoolgirl and help us clear the table,” Na
omi whispered as she continued moving toward the kitchen without giving Bethany a chance to argue.
Bethany picked up the butter dish and bread basket from the table and headed for the kitchen. Pete passed her and whispered; “Don’t hold me responsible for anything happening here tonight.”
“Trust me, I won’t, as long as you promise the same.”
It only took them fifteen minutes to clear the table, load the dishwasher, and settle in the living room. Pamela glared at the bird by Andy’s side. Bethany suspected there might be some thoughts of birdie torture going through Pamela’s mind, but she’d never act on it. Pamela might be bossy, but kindness ran through her veins, and she’d never physically hurt any of God’s creatures.
“Okay, now let’s talk about your plans.” Pamela looked back and forth between Naomi and Miss Gertie with shoulders squared and body rigid.
Miss Gertie glanced at Naomi, who nodded, before turning back to Pamela. “We’ve already told you what we were thinking.” She paused. “But I actually like your idea better.”
“What do you think?” Pamela shot a quick glance at Naomi.
Naomi nodded. “I like it too. Folks in Bloomfield are mighty competitive, so we figured we should tap into their nature to get what we want. But like you said, everyone loves a party.” She turned to Gertie and winked. “The bigger the party and the more we have going on the better.”
Pamela grinned. “This is a very intriguing idea, giving prizes to folks for inviting people to Bloomfield. I think it’ll work if you take the lead on this. We should probably come up with a theme and a name for the festival.” She leaned forward. “So how will this contest work, and where will we get the prizes?”
Bethany listened in amazement as Naomi and Miss Gertie listed some of their preposterous ideas, each one building on the last. Caught up in the excitement, Naomi added, “As soon as you get one family to sign a lease or put a down payment on a house, you get a small prize and move on to the next level.”
Pamela tilted her head and smiled. “So they won’t be competing with each other as much as trying to move to the next level?”
