by Janet Eaves
“Oops. Guess I was tailgating.” She smiled at the young man, not at Martin. He smiled back a bit shyly. “I’m Midnight Shelby.” She held out her hand and the young man shook it, his face coloring a little.
“Daniel McClain. Nice to meet you, Miz Shelby. I guess you know this is my dad.”
“So very nice to meet you, Daniel. I didn’t know for sure, but I had guessed it. Are you very much like your dad, or do you just look like him?”
He looked at Martin and then back to Midnight. “Kinda alike, I guess. But different too.”
“That’s a good thing.” She smiled at him again. What a nice young man.
“Yep. That’s what most everybody says.” His return grin was a showstopper. Here was a boy who would be even more handsome than his dad in a few years. “Well, sorry, but I gotta work. Some of us from school are doing this coat check thing. And helping serve the food, and clean up after and stuff.”
Martin, obviously a proud father, smiled and, looking relaxed for a change, put his hands in his front pants pockets, leaning against a nearby table. “Miz McClain, this is our cousin Joey.” The other boy nodded, looking embarrassed.
“So, you boys learning a lot?” asked Martin.
Daniel made a face. “Yeah. Like I never want to be a waiter.”
“We don’t have real restaurants in Legend. So it doesn’t matter,” said Joey.
“We don’t have much of any place to work in Legend,” Daniel replied, shrugging. “Everybody knows the town is dying.”
“Hey! Where’d you hear that?” his father hissed, standing straight up now.
“Geez, Dad. You, for one. I like Legend, but nothing new ever comes here. Stuff shuts down, people leave. Unless that factory comes to town…but I don’t want to work in a factory unless I’m the IT department.” Daniel’s frown showed determination. Midnight remembered the first time she had seen him, trying to avoid a haircut. The boy obviously had a stubborn streak, and she knew he’d come by it honestly.
“I’m not working in a factory either,” said Joey. “I’m gonna work on cars like my dad does. I might even go to college and become a diesel mechanic. That’s pretty good money.”
“Not around here,” Daniel muttered.
“Oh. Yeah.”
“Unless something changes, we won’t live in Legend after high school. I bet none of the other cousins will, either. Or any of our friends.” He looked at Martin with a challenge in his eye. “Why would they, Dad?”
“Because it’s home,” said Martin.
Daniel shrugged, still frowning. “It’s not home if you can’t afford to live here anymore.”
“You know, Daniel, you shouldn’t count Legend done just yet,” said Midnight softly.
“Yeah?” the boys asked in unison. Martin looked at her.
She smiled. “Yes indeed. Legend has potential.” She put a hand on each boy’s shoulder. “The two of you are part of that potential, if you choose to be. Just remember that.”
Daniel looked beyond her and sighed. “Hey, we’re getting the evil eye from Mayor Crenshaw. Better get back to work. I’d like to talk to you sometime about what you mean, Miz Shelby.” There were several people in line to use the coat check service. Midnight hadn’t realized they’d been talking so long.
“Well, it’s been a delight to meet you both. You and your friends could stop by my shop. I have some work that needs doing there. Assuming you want to make money, and it’s okay with your dad.”
“Cool!” said Daniel, taking two coats from a gentleman and giving two coupons in exchange. “Oh! Dad, can I spend the night with Joey?
“There’s a surprise question.” Martin smiled. “Sure. Tell his mom and dad I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”
“No problem. ‘Night, son. ‘Night, Joey.”
Martin took Midnight’s hand and led her away. She tried hard to ignore the shock that went up her arm at his touch, and knew it had nothing to do with static electricity. Was the undercurrent of attraction one-sided? Perhaps Martin didn’t feel it at all. He certainly didn’t appear to.
After weaving through the crowd, Martin stopped and pointed to name cards. “This is our table. Have a seat.” He pulled out a chair for her.
Midnight looked around at the crowd. “Hm. People aren’t really sitting down yet, are they? I’d like to meet some more Legendarians. Any other McClains here?”
“Hell yes, there are other McClains! We’re everywhere in this county. Look at the name cards right here. It’s a damned table of McClains. I guess you’ll be charming the whole family.”
“Do you think I could? What a strange, yet nearly endearing comment.”
“Take it however you want, Miz Shelby.” He met her eyes and almost smiled. She couldn’t read him. Was he irritated with her, or flirting?
A small, lovely woman and tall, distinguished man, both with graying hair, walked up arm in arm, beaming at her. Midnight was grateful for the distraction.
“Well, hello here! I’m Charles.” He tipped an imaginary hat. “Charles McClain. This young man giving you any trouble, miss? I’ll turn him over my knee if he deserves it. I’ve had to on more than one occasion when his dad and mom weren’t handy and it needed done.”
Midnight laughed and put out her hand which was immediately lost in the gentleman’s large one. “I’m Midnight Shelby. Thank you for the offer, and I’ll remember it if it becomes necessary.”
He laughed too, a full and hearty sound. Squeezing Midnight’s hand for a second, he then released it and put his arm around the woman at his side. “Midnight Shelby, I’d like you to meet the love of my life, Dorothy Robbins McClain. Wife, mother, pharmacist, best cook in the county, and all around terrific gal.” He kissed the top of Dorothy’s wavy hair as Dorothy shook Midnight’s hand.
“Midnight! We’re so glad to meet you. Betsy has told us wonderful things. I hear your new shop is going to be just lovely. I keep meaning to pop in, but I know you’ve been busy interviewing people, signing them up for consignments. Right?”
Midnight shifted uneasily. “Interviewing, yes, but no one has signed up yet. Betsy suggested maybe it’s because I’m new in town.”
Dorothy waved a hand. “Oh, probably! Legend is home for me. I love it. But sometimes the closed-mindedness of our townsfolk makes me irate.” She touched Midnight’s sleeve. “You have to understand, honey, that a lot of people here seldom cross the state line. That’s not a sin, but sometimes we forget there’s an outside world, or different ways of doing things.”
“Come on, Aunt Dorothy! You make us sound like a bunch of hicks.”
She pierced Martin with a look. “You said it, Martin. I did not. What happens, though, is that we tend to become so insular. You know, ‘This is how we do things in Legend. This is how we’ve always done things.’”
“And?” Martin growled.
“And if we let that mentality continue, dear nephew, our darling little town will wither like a tomato left too long on the vine.”
Charles cleared his throat. “First it rots, honey. Then it withers.”
“Well, close enough. It’s an analogy, after all, Charles. I’m not giving a horticulture lecture. My point is that we need new ideas, fresh energy.” She winked at Midnight. “I can see you’ve got a lot on the ball, missy. And I hear things—not just from Betsy, either—but I hear people saying good things about you.” She leaned a little closer. “Don’t give up, Midnight. I think you and…” She glanced at Martin. “I think you and Legend need each other.” Dorothy winked. “Now! Where’s the rest of our clan?”
“Mom and Dad have a body. Chloe should be here, though.”
“Body?” Midnight glanced from Martin to his aunt.
“Oh, Martin, don’t you even talk to this girl?” Charles shook a long finger at the younger McClain. “Miz Shelby, has Martin failed to draw the family tree for you? Figures, I guess.” He drew an exaggerated sigh. “Martin is our nephew, son of my brother Danie
l and his long-suffering wife Sharon. Daniel and Sharon run the Legend Funeral Home.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Yeah. Takes all kinds, huh? Well, somebody’s gotta do it, and when I go, that brother of mine had better give me a deep discount.” He grinned. “Get it? Deep discount.”
“Geez, Uncle Charles, can we please not do undertaker humor tonight?” Martin pleaded, then waved an arm up high. “There’s Chloe.”
Charles whispered into Midnight’s ear. “Martin’s sister. More info for the tree.” Midnight tried to picture the branches of a tree so she could keep the relationships straight.
Chloe walked over to the group, looking like a Vogue cover in a silky red maxi dress and heels.
“Hey there.” She hugged Dorothy, then Charles. “Bro.” She punched Martin lightly in the shoulder, then tipped her head toward Midnight. “You going to introduce me to the lady?”
Midnight immediately liked the woman’s style. She had short spiky blond-and-dark brown streaked hair and dark brown eyes like Martin’s. She wore a diamond stud high in one ear, and bell-shaped dangling earrings in both lobes. They made music when Chloe moved her head. But even better, Chloe’s style included giving her brother grief even when he hadn’t earned it yet. Because of course he eventually would.
“Yeah. Like you don’t already know her name.” Martin stuck his hands in the front pockets of his pants and looked around for someone else to talk to.
“Martin. I’m pretty sure our parents tried their best to teach you some manners. It’s not too late to start acting as if you learned.” Chloe smiled and batted her long blackened eyelashes up at Martin.
“Midnight Shelby, this is my spoiled sister, Chloe McClain. She has a mean streak a mile wide.”
Chloe punched him again, but not gently this time. Midnight saw him wince.
The two women shook hands. “I think your idea for the store is great! I’ve been busy, getting some canvasses done for a collector, but if you’re interested, I’ll do the consignment deal. Might not bring in much business, but you never know. Oh—” She slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand. “You probably don’t know. I paint pictures.”
Dorothy announced, “Chloe is well known for her talent, Midnight. She’s done shows all over the state. Do you still have that map, Chloe? The one that shows where your paintings are now?”
“Yes, but I imagine it’s out of date.” Chloe turned to Midnight. “When I can, I find out where a painting will be displayed. It’s kind of neat to think my stuff is hanging in living rooms in over 40 states.”
“Living rooms or art museums,” said Dorothy proudly.
“Or outhouses,” Martin muttered, earning another punch in the arm. “Hey! I’m kidding! She’s pretty good, considering,” he admitted.
“Considering I have a butthead for a brother?” Chloe turned to Midnight. “Anyway. I’ll bring you two or three things and you see if you’d like to handle them for me, okay?”
“I’d love that!” Finally, an artist willing to commit to The Emporium.
A voice came over the tinny sound system. “Good evening. Would everybody please find your seats, and we’ll get started.” The harried looking man at the podium tapped a drinking glass with a spoon to add emphasis. “Find your seats please, people. Thank you.”
The din of voices shifted as people moved around the large room to their tables. Midnight and the McClains were just sitting down when two young women with long dark hair and dark eyes rushed up.
“Hey. Got talking to Jim and Lilly Hood. They’re so cool,” said the first woman.
“So much in love,” the second one added.
Both sighed in unison.
Dorothy smiled. “Your times will come, my dears.”
“No doubt!” Another tall man with dark eyes joined the group. This one had an easy smile and grey just at his temples. He shook her hand. “Midnight Shelby. So glad to finally meet you. I’m Martin and Chloe’s father, Daniel. I know, I know, it’s confusing that he named his son after me. Not my idea, I can assure you! I go by ‘Dan’ and my grandson uses the longer version. Confusing.” He shook his head. “And this is my wife, Sharon. Sharon, honey, this is Martin’s new friend.” He winked at Martin.
Sharon was a tall, auburn-haired beauty. “Dan, don’t start pushing. Midnight just moved to town. Martin is only a business associate.” She smiled. “We wouldn’t want Martin to think we’ve given up on him ever getting married again, maybe giving us another grandchild, now would we?”
“Mother! Geez!”
Dan held Sharon’s chair. “Sorry we were late, everybody. Got a call.”
There was a general muttering of concern.
“Who?” asked Dorothy.
“Miss Eleanor.”
“Oh dear. She’d been sick such a long time. Now she’s finally at peace.” Dorothy looked at the two young women next to her. “But her poor family.”
“True,” said Dan. “Her kids come in tomorrow afternoon to make arrangements. Couple of them are out of state, you know. I expect it’ll be a big send-off.”
Dan sat down, causing a little more chair-scooting.
Martin scowled. “Why are the chairs all jammed up?”
“We have nine at a table for eight, Martin.” Charles winked at him. “It’s okay with me. I don’t often get to sit so close to so many beautiful women. Kinda cozy. What do you say, Dan?”
He nodded, smiling. “Works for me. Martin looks uncomfortable though.” Both the older men looked at him.
When the jostling was done, Midnight was wedged between Chloe and Martin.
“These are my daughters, Maureen and Janelle,” said Charles, gesturing at the two young women who had arrived together. “We also have two sons. David who works in Knoxville, and Joe, who lives and works in Legend but wouldn’t be caught dead at the Christmas Ball.”
“Now Charles! You make him sound like a Scrooge.”
“Oh—sorry. Not a Scrooge. Just a snob. He’s happier taking a car engine apart, or throwing a football around with his son, or eating his wife’s home cooking. Joe’s not much for the social scene.”
“Yeah. The whirl of society in Legend can be exhausting.” Maureen—or Janelle—laughed at her own joke, as did her sister.
Midnight chuckled with them. What a wonderful family! She was falling in love with the McClains. Martin’s arm was warm next to hers and, try as she might, it was impossible to keep their legs from touching under the table. As Charles had said, it was cozy. Evidently Betsy’s last-minute insistence that Martin invite Midnight to this event hadn’t taken into account the fact that the family table was already full. But she agreed with Charles and Daniel. It was okay this way. And she didn’t mind if it made Martin a little uncomfortable. She didn’t mind at all.
A minister walked to the podium, cleared his throat, and asked a blessing on the food. Then the volunteer servers got busy.
The meal was delicious. Midnight recognized some of Suzie Schul’s best dishes, and was able to wave to Suzie once across the room. The B&B owner was in her element, serving food, making people feel comfortable and happy.
The harried looking man from earlier tapped on the microphone, producing a particularly unpleasant sound. “Okay. Everybody? Thank you for coming to the Christmas Ball. You know most of your ticket money goes to Shop with a Cop. Some of the food, and all of the labor tonight is donated.”
A large round of spontaneous applause. “Tickets sold real well this year, which is a good thing. We have more kids to sponsor than ever.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, thanks to all of you for your generosity. Hopefully by this time next year, things’ll be different for Legend.” The applause for this was even louder. “I know you’re all wondering. We’re not sure about the new factory, but it looks promising. They want to bring their plant to Legend.”
“Attaboy, Jack!”
Midnight wasn’t sure who had yelled it out. She looked around at her dinner companions, who appeared to be less
than enthused.
“Have you met Mayor Crenshaw?” Chloe whispered to Midnight in front of Martin’s chest.
“No. Is that him?”
“Yep.” Chloe nodded somberly.
“He’s doing the best he can, Chlo,” said Martin softly.
“Selling out to big business is the best he can do?” Chloe’s whisper was harsh.
“You think you can do better, run for mayor,” Martin said.
“Maybe I will.” Chloe crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the mayor.
“You won’t. You’re all talk, Chloe.” Martin shrugged.
“You don’t like the factory idea either. Admit it. You of all people!”
Someone started playing old standard Christmas songs on a CD player, and several couples went to the dance floor.
“My dear?” asked Charles, and he and Dorothy excused themselves. Dan and Sharon did the same.
“Dance?” Martin asked softly.
“Um. Sure. Why not?” Midnight slid the large red paper napkin off her lap and put it on the table. Martin pulled out her chair. It has to be better than sitting in the middle of a sibling argument.
“Sorry about Chloe,” he said as soon as they were a few feet away from the table. “She’s got a big mouth.”
“Hm.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just hm.”
“Of course I’m not thrilled about a factory coming in. I hate the idea. But Pete—the mayor—thinks it’s a great opportunity for Legend.” Having reached the small dance floor, Martin turned and faced her. Looking almost timid, he put a hand on her waist and took her other hand in his.
Midnight slid her free hand up his arm to his shoulder. Being held by him, even so tentatively, was more intimacy than she’d experienced in months. It wouldn’t do to let herself get too comfortable though.
“So, you don’t like factories?”
