Weaving the Strands

by Barbara Hinske

  Maggie hesitated and turned to gaze out the window, considering her response. She desperately needed to confide in someone. “Truthfully, I’m feeling lost. I’m in over my head. Not only am I new to this town, I’m new to politics. As a forensic accountant, I understand the financial problems facing the town, but crafting workable solutions and getting the council to act on them is another matter. I came into office on a wave of public support, but that’s dwindling fast. My approval rating is dropping like a rock. I don’t care if I get re-elected; I just want to help the people of this town. I really care about them. They’re warm and genuine. I don’t want to fail them.”

  “Is this Alex Scanlon helping you?”

  “Yes and no. He’s a former prosecutor, and I appointed him as Westbury’s special counsel to assist in Wheeler’s prosecution. He’s bogged down in all of that and, frankly, hasn’t fully recovered from the accident. Although he wouldn’t admit it, I think he resents that I ended up with the mayor’s seat; even though, at this point in time, I’d gladly give it to him.” She turned to face Upton. “I’m at my wit’s end, Professor. That’s why I called you. Of all the people I’ve met in my career, you’re the only one with the expertise to bail us out.”

  Professor Upton looked like he was about to object when Maggie waved to a well-dressed man in his late thirties, standing at the hostess stand, scanning the tables in the restaurant. Alex spotted Maggie and nodded.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he apologized as Professor Upton stood and Maggie made the introductions. “I headed to Stuart’s on autopilot and was parking my car when I realized I was at the wrong place.”

  “I wanted this meeting to be out of the limelight,” Maggie replied. “Professor Upton and I became acquainted when we worked together years ago. He’s currently a professor of municipal finance in Chicago.”

  As Alex sat, Maggie signaled the server to bring over an extra glass of water and some menus.

  “I understand that the fraud investigation is ongoing,” she said to Alex once the server had left. “But in the meantime, we need to get our town’s finances straightened out and the pension fund on firm footing. That’s why I’ve brought in Professor Upton.”

  “I believe that we’re putting together a very solid case against ex-mayor Wheeler,” Alex declared. “I’m convinced he didn’t act alone. Frankly, he isn’t smart enough. We just haven’t developed evidence against anyone else yet.”

  “I understand that, Alex. As I said, I need assistance with the day-to-day handling of the town’s finances.”

  “Maggie, I’ve got my hands full with the investigation.”

  “I’m not asking you to jump in. Just supply the professor with what you know.”

  Professor Upton broke in, “Don’t you have a treasurer and an accounting department? Don’t you have an auditor? The finances for a town this size shouldn’t be too difficult.”

  “That’s part of the problem,” Maggie said. “We’re still not sure how widespread the corruption is and who’s part of it. And we keep uncovering new issues. Just this morning I learned that a senior center known as Fairview Terraces may be in jeopardy because the town defaulted on the ground lease of the property we sublease to them. If that property gets foreclosed upon, more than three hundred senior citizens who’ve paid their rent on time and who’ve developed a community there will be thrown out on their ears. We can’t allow that.”

  Maggie leveled her gaze at Professor Upton. “I do know one thing. I’m not going to let that happen.”

  “First I’ve heard of this,” Alex snapped.

  “It just came up.” Maggie sighed. “Bottom line, Professor, things are getting worse, and the only people I can trust within town government, not counting myself, are Alex and Councilwoman Holmes. We don’t have the necessary expertise. We need your help.”

  “It surely isn’t as bad as all that is it?” the professor replied.

  “Maggie isn’t exaggerating anything, sir,” Alex took over. “I’ve been so focused on getting the bad guys that I’ve turned a blind eye to all the other issues that Maggie’s had to face in keeping the town going. We’ve both been working around the clock for months. My partner is about ready to throw me out if I don’t spend more time at home,” he concluded with a rueful smile. “And I know a certain veterinarian who is feeling neglected.” He raised an eyebrow at Maggie.

  Maggie knew the time had come to make her pitch. “This would be an opportunity to put some of your academic ideas to the test in the real world,” she entreated Upton. “And you wouldn’t be dealing with tiresome faculty committees. I remember from my days as a college president’s wife that you professors get frustrated with the slowness of everything. You wouldn’t be subjected to that here. We need to make changes now.”

  Professor Upton draped one arm over the back of his chair and studied the anxious faces across the table. “Anything else that you’d like to add to tempt me?” he asked.

  “There is one more thing, Professor,” Maggie replied. “We have no money in the budget to pay you, so your stipend would be one dollar. And the eternal gratitude of an entire community.”

  A smile emerged beneath the professor’s neatly cropped gray mustache. “In that case,” he said, “you’d better start calling me Don, which is what all my colleagues call me. Let’s order lunch and get started.”

  Chapter 3

  Glenn Vaughn leaned back into the leather booth at Pete’s Bistro and idly ran his fingers up and down through the condensation on his glass of iced tea. He stretched his long legs under the table, content to wait patiently for his female companions as he had done scores of times during his seventy-seven years. Gloria Harper was in the ladies room and his granddaughter would be along shortly.

  It was odd, he reflected, that Gloria, his late wife’s best friend, and Cindy had never met. Gloria and Nancy, before she died, had both faithfully volunteered at the daycare center for special needs children located in the church next to Fairview Terraces. They spent most weekday mornings together rocking babies and sharing their lives’ current tidbits and detailed histories, forming the kind of deep friendship that women are so good at.

  Nancy had made friends with almost everyone in Fairview Terraces. What was it she always told people considering moving into the seniors’ apartment complex? That it was like being back in a college dorm with all the fun people but none of the boring classes.

  Glenn shifted in his seat. Despite living at Fairview Terraces for more than ten years, he hadn’t made any firm friendships. Most of his connections, including Gloria, had come through Nancy. He’d had a very busy career as a civil engineer, and when he retired, Nancy’s companionship had been enough for him.

  These days he didn’t even see his granddaughter Cindy much. A physician’s assistant whose work always seemed to spill over into her personal life, she routinely ran herself ragged, which all too often rendered her unavailable for family time. Glenn was half afraid that she would cancel on this luncheon at the last minute. Gloria would be so disappointed, although he knew she would be too well mannered to show it.

  From Fairview Terraces all the way to the restaurant, Gloria chatted excitedly about presenting Cindy with the baby blanket she had finished knitting for the young woman’s soon-to-be-born first child. Nancy had started the blanket for her great-grandbaby, but she knew she probably wouldn’t be able to complete it. When her death had suspended the project mid-row, Gloria had taken up the project just as she promised Nancy she would.

  Glenn turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Sorry to leave you waiting. When I came out of the ladies room, I saw my friend Laura Fitzpatrick, and we got chatting about her baby. I’m surprised at all of the young mothers I know. I think I’ll get some yarn and start knitting another blanket in anticipation of the next baby gift I’ll need,” Gloria said.

  She settled herself across from him and regarded him thoughtfully. “How are you doing these days, Glenn?”

  �
�I’m adjusting,” he responded with a sigh. “I always expected that I’d be the first to go, since I was so much older than Nancy. I’ve gotten over being mad about that—well, most days I’m over it—and I’m trying to fill my time with the things I told myself I’d do when I retired.”

  Gloria nodded. She’d been a widow for over fifty years. Being left with nine young children to raise, she never had to worry about how to fill her time. Now that they were all finally grown and gone, she had grown accustomed to being on her own. When asked why she had never remarried, she always quipped that no man in his right mind would ever want to date a woman with nine children.

  “Nancy told me you were a scratch golfer back in the day.”

  “She exaggerated a bit,” Glenn said. “I was all right. My game was consistent. I play a couple of times a week now—that fills up the best part of two days. I’ve always liked to build things, and I’ve got a model ship going on the dining room table. I’m a voracious reader, and I’ve started to dabble in—” He broke off suddenly as his cell phone chirped and scrambled to wrangle it out of his pocket.

  “Sorry. It’s Cindy,” he said, with unmistakable tension in his voice. As he listened intently, a relieved smile lightened his expression. “She’s pulling into the parking lot now. She’ll be right in.”

  Gloria positioned the fancy gift bag she had purchased the day before at Celebrations, her favorite shop on the square, so that her gift sat proudly at the end of the table. She and Glenn turned toward the rear entrance from the parking lot as Glenn’s radiant—and very pregnant—granddaughter burst through the back door and hurried to their table.

  “So sorry I’m late. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long. I’m Cindy Larsen,” she said, holding out her hand to Gloria. “Gramma always said so many nice things about you. I know that you were wonderful friends. I’m delighted to finally meet you.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, young lady,” Gloria replied, squeezing Cindy’s arm. “Nancy thought the world of you, and I know she was over the moon about your pregnancy. How are you feeling? When is the baby due?”

  “I’m feeling great; this has been a super-easy pregnancy. I’m due in six weeks. Still, I have to admit I’m getting tired of being pregnant—I’m ready to have this baby,” she said as she slid into the booth next to her beaming grandfather and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

  “What’s all this?” she asked, eyeing the gift bag in front of her.

  “Always curious about presents, aren’t you?” Glenn chided. “You were the grandchild who snooped for Christmas gifts. Let’s order, and then we’ll get to that,” he said, signaling to their waiter.

  “Okay,” she replied good-naturedly as she picked up a menu.

  With their orders placed, Gloria glanced at Glenn. He cleared his throat and turned to Cindy, but the words didn’t seem to come. Seeing his distress, Gloria quickly interceded.

  “As I said, Nancy was overjoyed about the fact that you were expecting. She was an expert knitter and had already created the better part of this lovely blanket for your baby when she passed. It would have been such a shame for it to remain undone, so I picked it up and finished it off for you,” she said as she slid the gift bag toward Cindy. “Besides, I promised Nancy I would. I’m not the knitter that she was, but it turned out nicely.”

  Cindy regarded Gloria with damp eyes and withdrew the blanket wrapped in a cloud of tissue. With shaking hands, she held the delicate white-lace pattern woven with yellow and green ribbons high above her head. She stared at it in admiration, and then hugged it to herself as she turned to Gloria.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she choked. “This is incredibly beautiful, and immeasurably kind of you to do this for me. And for Gram. I’m sure she’s up there and is grateful. So am I.”

  Although clearly gratified by this reaction, Gloria modestly waved away the compliment. She glanced at Glenn and realized that he, too, was on the verge of tears. “I’m delighted that you’re so pleased,” she said quickly in an effort to get them back onto an even emotional keel. “And don’t be afraid to use it; Nancy and I didn’t go to all of this effort for it to sit in a drawer, you know.”

  Their entrées arrived and they spent the next hour and fifteen minutes in easy conversation centered on Cindy’s hopes for her baby and her plans to juggle her family and her career. Gloria bit her tongue several times. She knew that women today wanted to do things their own way and didn’t want advice—no matter how well founded—from an old crone like her. Still, she had taken a shine to this earnest young woman. When Cindy looked at her watch and gasped, realizing that she was running late to meet her husband, Gloria took her hand in both of hers.

  “I know that you’re perfectly prepared to care for your baby, but sometimes things don’t go according to the books. If you’ll permit me one piece of advice, go with your instincts. They won’t let you down. You’ll know your child better than anyone else. And if I can ever help you think anything through, you know where to find me. There probably isn’t much I haven’t seen, raising nine kids.”

  “Oh, Gloria,” Cindy said, awkwardly leaning over the table to give her a hug, “I was hoping you’d offer. And I can never express how grateful I am to you for finishing Gram’s blanket.

  “Gramps,” she said as she gave Glenn a kiss on the cheek, “you are the best. Thank you for this. Will you stop by after church on Sunday? Tom needs help putting the crib together—correctly at least.”

  Glenn nodded and she swept back out the door.

  “She’s an absolute delight,” Gloria said as they settled back into the booth. “She’ll make a fine mother.”

  Gloria studied Glenn intently. This outing had done him a world of good. His color was better and his eyes sparkled.

  “Let’s see what Laura’s Pie of the Day is today, shall we?” he asked. He was stuffed from lunch, but was enjoying himself so much that he wasn’t ready to leave.

  “I’ve never met a pie I didn’t like. That’s a capital idea!” Gloria replied.

  Over two slices of peach pie, Glenn and Gloria delved into topics from art to zoology. They were discussing Glenn’s interest in poetry and Gloria’s lack of knowledge on the subject when the waiters began resetting the restaurant for the dinner crowd.

  “Good grief, it’s almost four o’clock,” Glenn exclaimed. “And I remember that you wanted to be home by two,” he added sheepishly. “I’m so sorry that I’ve kept you so long.”

  “Not at all,” Gloria hastily reassured him. “I had no idea we’ve so much in common. I can’t remember a better afternoon. And I want to hear more of your views on poetry; I’m intrigued. I think I’ll pick up a volume from the library.”

  “I’ll do you one better,” Glenn replied. “I’ll drop a couple of my favorite anthologies at your front door. Maybe we can go to lunch together again to discuss them.”

  Gloria smiled. “That’s a grand idea.”

  With the promise of an encore in hand, they reluctantly left the restaurant.

  Chapter 4

  Maggie glanced up from the spreadsheets strewn across her desk at Town Hall and checked the time. Three o’clock. She’d been up to her elbows in figures all day and still wasn’t any closer to making sense of them. At least she’d be seeing John tonight. The thought brought a smile to her lips and she leaned back in her chair, taking off her reading glasses and tossing them on her desk.

  Meeting John Allen, DVM, was possibly the best thing that had ever happened to her. The long-divorced local veterinarian had been so kind and gentle with both her and Eve, the stray terrier mix that adopted Maggie on her first morning at Rosemont. How could she not start falling for him?

  She’d left California with the firm conviction that relationships weren’t for her. By the time Paul died in the cardiac ICU, their relationship had soured. What she learned after his death made her wonder if she’d ever really known the man she’d been married to for more than twenty-five years. Not only had Paul embezzled
more than two million dollars from Windsor College, he had maintained a mistress in grand style in the posh Arizona suburb of Scottsdale. Then in a final bizarre twist, Maggie had inherited Rosemont from Paul. Even now, almost a year after moving into the manor, she still couldn’t believe that he had concealed its existence from her for a decade after it had been left to him.

  Maggie stood and stretched. She walked to the window and leaned against the sill. How nice it would be to go away with John for a long weekend. They needed to spend time together. Maybe a mini-vacation would get him out of the doldrums, a side effect of his recent and long-overdue knee replacement surgery.

  Maggie knew that John hated being away from his veterinary practice, especially since his patients—both human and not—relied on his wisdom and gentle manner. He hated even more being dependent on others to chauffeur him around. A better doctor than a patient, he’d set his recovery back by ignoring doctor’s orders and pushing himself too hard. The fact that he wouldn’t be able to resume driving for another six weeks had rendered him inconsolably irritable.

  Maggie smiled. She’d pick him up at physical therapy and take him out for a nice dinner. Maybe they’d even stop for his favorite dessert—butter pecan ice cream—on the way back to his house. She’d been late the last three times she’d collected him from therapy. She’d surprise him tonight and be waiting when he stepped out the door. She needed to treat him like the priority he was.

  Maggie’s phone began to ring and she quickly returned to her desk, answering on the third ring with a cheerful “Maggie Martin.”

  “You certainly sound chipper, Ms. Mayor. But then you’re not a pensioner whose checks may bounce.”

  Maggie sank into her chair. This call was going to take time. She knew from experience that it probably wouldn’t end well.

  ***

  By the time she managed to get off the phone, she was shocked to see that it was already dark outside. Her conversation with the retired town worker who was concerned about his pension had taken far longer than she would have liked. He’d been furious with her answers, and who could blame him? No one wanted to find out that their retirement nest egg was half of what had been expected. She listened to his complaints and sympathized with his frustrations. Maybe he was right; maybe she should turn the job over to someone else better qualified to deal with the financial mess. She certainly hadn’t come up with any solutions.