Best Laid Plans
Page 1
Copyright © 2013 by Martha Rogers
All rights reserved.
E-book ISBN: 978-1-4336-7929-2
Version 1.0
Published by B&H Publishing Group
Nashville, Tennessee
No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the B&H Publishing Group.
You can’t soar with eagles if you play with turkeys.
“A man’s heart plans his way,
but the Lord determines his steps.”
Proverbs 16:9 hcsb
Chapter 1
He can’t do this to us! Who does Woody think he is?” Caroline Short waved the daily Bloomfield Gazette in the air. “He could have at least warned us.” She marched up to the hostess stand.
Every patron in the Pink Geranium Tearoom turned to stare. “Warned us about what, Mom?” Selena laid a stack of menus to the side and grabbed the paper from Caroline’s hands.
Conversation buzzed about the room with a few patrons continuing to stare at Caroline, who now stood with her hands planted on her hips. She turned to face the noonday crowd.
Caroline’s gaze roamed about the room and scrutinized each diner. All conversation ceased under her gaze. A few gripped their pink or white napkins, others laid down forks and waited for her to speak. Even the pink geranium plants hanging at each window appeared poised in anticipation of her information. “Mayor Woodrow Hansen is planning to move Founder’s Cottage between the courthouse and City Hall for expansion. That house was the first one in town when my great-grandfather Miller built it back when Bloomfield was founded. My grandfather donated it to the town for a landmark. Now the mayor wants to tear it down and move it for progress.”
Murmurs around the dining tables erupted into loud objections as customers shook their heads in disbelief.
Selena thrust the paper back at Caroline. “There has to be a mistake. They can’t move a landmark on a whim.”
Winnie Simpson, Caroline’s best friend, marched to the front and grabbed the paper from Caroline. “When did this happen?” She read a few lines and then swirled like a top to point a finger at George Pearson, seated by a window. “You’re on the town council. Did you know about this?”
George’s face flushed as red as his tie. “Not really. Woody mentioned he had some ideas for expanding the hall, but he didn’t say anything definite. I’m just as surprised as you are.”
Winnie strode over and shook her finger in his face. “And why don’t I believe you, Georgey?”
George looked like he might explode at Winnie’s use of his childhood nickname. Caroline hurried over to the table to prevent further damage from Winnie and a stroke in George. Good thing she hadn’t completed it with the “Porgie” portion of it. Although the man still carried a lot of extra weight, he wasn’t fat like he’d been as a boy.
Caroline grasped Winnie’s hand and pulled it down. “George, tell me exactly what you know, and do any of the other council members know about this?”
“I really don’t know anything, Caroline, I’m sorry. If I’d known this was the route he was taking, I’d have warned you and tried to stop him.”
Winnie snorted. “Oh, sure. Like you and he aren’t in cahoots with just about everything else going on around this town.”
Caroline squeezed Winnie’s arm. “That’s enough. You’re making it worse.”
“Ouch! That hurt, and I don’t see how it could be much worse than having your family home torn down.”
Selena stepped over to her mother’s side. “Nobody’s going to tear down anything. Let’s calm down and think through this logically. I thought the house had been made a historical landmark, so it’s protected by law and can’t be touched.”
Again, George turned a deep shade of red. “Um, no, the designation was never submitted, so it’s just a town landmark—not a national one.”
Selena’s gasp joined that of several nearby diners. Her eyes opened wide, and her mouth gaped open. She turned toward her mother. “What is he talking about? That was supposed to have been taken care of last year.”
Winnie snorted again. “If you ask me, Mayor Woody has been less than honest with us, and I wouldn’t put it past George here to have been in on it.” Once more, she turned an accusing sneer in the councilman’s direction.
Caroline blinked her eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Everything had been in order and all the forms filled out and ready for submission. She narrowed her eyes at George. “What have you two been up to behind my back? Was Victoria Masters in on this?”
“No, no, I promise you that there was no collusion. Woody must have forgotten to send the request in or to the right people or something.”
“I just bet he did, especially after my calling and reminding him three times in the past six months.” Caroline glanced at the newspaper again where she read that the mayor said the city council would look over the proposal and plan he’d drawn up. He hoped they could begin work on the expansion and other improvements by mid-July. That gave her just a little over a month to come up with an alternate plan to block the expansion.
George had no response to her statement and resumed eating his lunch. Winnie, however, wasn’t through with him yet. She pulled out a chair at his table and plopped down in it. “George, you knew Woody didn’t get that request in for recognition as a national historical spot and you did nothing about it. Why?”
He yanked his napkin from his lap and wadded it on the table. “Winnie, that didn’t have anything to do with me, and I can’t make the mayor do anything. Now leave me alone.” He shoved back from the table. “Selena, I want my check. I won’t stay here and be given the third degree by anybody.”
Winnie sat back with her arms crossed over her chest, a smug expression on her face as she nodded her head. “Got your hackles up. I suppose you’ll go straight to Woody’s office from here.”
George said nothing, but glared at Winnie. Caroline waited until he had paid his bill and left before she joined Winnie. “You have to behave yourself. I can’t have you running off my customers like that.”
“Oh, pooh. He was finished anyway.” Winnie nodded at his near-empty plate.
“Still . . .” Caroline sighed and slumped in her seat. “I . . . don’t know what to make of all this. If Victoria didn’t know, I wonder what she’s thinking about the news.” One thing for certain, Victoria was one of the most respected women on the town council, and if she didn’t know the expansion would include Founder’s Cottage, then she’d help Caroline fight the mayor.
She glanced over at Winnie who still sat with her arms crossed, wearing a sullen expression that warned of an approaching storm. Bless her, Winnie had a heart as big as all outdoors, but she didn’t mind telling people what was on hers. Ever since Earl died, Winnie had been at loose ends. She was the sort who needed somebody to take care of, and right now Caroline was that somebody. If Winnie would just open her eyes, she’d see that Woody, the most eligible older bachelor in town, had his eye on her, even if he was being a sneak right now.
Better calm the storm with Winnie before it became full blown. “Winnie, I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding. We’ll talk with Woody and find out exactly what’s going on.”
Winnie worked her mouth back and forth, bunched up her lips, and frowned. Her fingers now tapped against the table top. “I’ll give Woody the benefit of the doubt. It isn’t like him to up and do something like this behind a body’s back, especially yours. But if he’s serious about this, then I just might wring that skinny neck of his like a chicken for Sunday din
ner.”
Caroline had no doubt she’d do just that if her anger boiled enough. She patted Winnie’s shoulder then strode to the telephone. “Time to get the garden club ladies in on this.” After all, they were the ones responsible for keeping the cottage grounds looking so pretty every season.
Before she picked up the phone, Winnie mumbled in the background, “Yeah, right, call in them Bloomfield Bloomers. They always have to be in the middle of everything.”
Caroline shook her head and punched in the number for Sherry Butler, the club’s vice president. She’d be on Caroline’s side for sure since she and Victoria didn’t take to people changing things in their town. After she talked to Sherry, a call to her son, Don, was next. As executor of his grandparents’ will, he would have more of an idea about how to fight such a move.
Winnie still grumbled as Caroline dialed. Winnie couldn’t forgive the gardeners for not allowing her to join the club, but the poor soul killed everything she tried to grow.
Hal McKenzie drove into Bloomfield with several thoughts running through his mind. The first was whether or not he’d see Caroline Short, and the other questioned why his old buddy, Woody Hansen, wanted to see him.
Ever since his wife’s death several years ago, Hal had considered returning to his hometown and settling down in the old home where he’d grown up. Now that the house stood empty after the last renters left, the idea loomed as more and more inviting. A lot would depend on what happened on this trip.
He drove past the Pink Geranium Tearoom and spotted George Pearson rushing out the door like a posse was after him. Hal shook his head. George must be in a hurry to get back to his insurance business. Hal slowed his car then turned around and pulled into the parking lot, taking the spot vacated by George. Hal hadn’t stopped for lunch on his way to town, so he figured he could kill two birds with one stone. He’d have his lunch, and he just might see Caroline.
The place buzzed with conversation as he entered. It seemed like every person in the room talked at once, drowning out the clink of silverware and glasses. The place hadn’t changed much in the years since he’d been there. Pink and white was still the main color scheme repeated throughout in linens, floral centerpieces, and the geranium plants adorning the windows.
Before he had a chance to see who might be seated around the tables, Winnie Simpson spotted him and made a beeline in his direction. Not exactly the first person he wanted to see, but he could no more step out of her way than he could halt a runaway train.
“Well, look who the cat dragged in. Hal McKenzie. Haven’t seen you since your ma’s funeral. What in the world are you doing back in Bloomfield? Atlanta getting too hot for you these days? I sure hope you’re here to do something about your parents’ house. It’s been sitting empty too long, and it’ll go to pot if you don’t take care of it.” She stopped square in front of him with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her lips.
Some things never changed. He let her finish her rant before he grinned at her. “Good to see you too, Winnie. The answers to your questions are to see the mayor, no, and yes, I hope to.”
Her mouth dropped open and stayed that way. Winnie speechless? What a priceless moment.
From the corner of his eye, Hal spotted Caroline. She stood with her back to him speaking into the phone, and from the set of her shoulders, something must be wrong. Someone tapped his shoulder.
“Mr. McKenzie, may I show you a table?”
He turned to see Selena Short smiling with a menu in her hand. He followed her to a table next to the window. Selena had become an attractive young woman with her brown hair once worn in pigtails now brushing her shoulders with a slight curl and her smile devoid of the braces she’d once worn.
Some people might question his choosing a tearoom for lunch, but unless things had changed drastically, the food here beat a lot of places in town. As part of the Old Towne Inn, a bed and breakfast in Caroline’s Victorian-style home, the tearoom was open only for lunch.
Twenty-five years ago, he’d left Bloomfield after his wife insisted she didn’t want to live in such a small town. Since her death, he was seriously thinking of returning. Only one thing or person stood in his way, and she turned at that moment to lock gazes with him. If he couldn’t regain her friendship, there’d be no point in staying.
Caroline nodded and said something into the phone then laid it on the counter. She ran her hands over her hips, squared her shoulders, and headed in his direction. A smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes graced her mouth.
His heart jumped in anticipation of talking with her. He hadn’t seen her in a number of years, and now her once dark hair was streaked with white, but she was still attractive after all their years since high school.
“Hello, Hal. It’s been a while.” She offered her hand, and he stood up as he shook it. He still towered over her short stature.
She all but jerked it away after contact. Was she still that angry with him?
“It has. Are you too busy to have a seat and talk with an old friend?” His heart slowed to a snail’s pace waiting for her answer.
Caroline tapped her foot a moment then slid into the chair opposite him. “I suppose the owner can take a few minutes.” She immediately picked up a napkin and wrapped her fingers around it as Hal returned to his seat.
A young woman placed a glass of water in front of him. “Are you ready to order?”
“Yes, I’ll have the special for today.” He had no idea what that may be, but if Lida Mae cooked it, it would be wonderful.
When the girl left, Hal placed his arms on the table, hands clasped. “Look, Caroline, I’m sorry for not making it here for Clint’s funeral. I should have made the effort, but things were pretty hectic for me.”
Showing up might have made him feel better about himself, but he couldn’t face Caroline after he’d let his best friend down.
Clint’s construction know-how would have made him an ideal partner with Hal’s architectural firm. They would’ve made a fine team, but his wife’s brother wanted the position, so that’s where it went. Then Velma had convinced him they’d do much better in Atlanta.
Caroline peered at him with the same blue eyes he remembered from their high school days. If Clint hadn’t married her, Hal would have, but he had waited too long to declare his intentions.
“It did hurt my feelings because you and Clint were like brothers in school, but after what happened with . . .” She hesitated and frowned.
“He made me the best pitcher Bloomfield High ever had. Without him as my catcher, I wouldn’t have been nearly as good. I’m only sorry he wasn’t offered a scholarship like I was.” If Clint had gone to State with him, Caroline might still have been available after college.
She narrowed her eyes and peered across the table at him. “Yes, that really hurt him, but he bounced back, went those two years at Community, and did quite well for us in his own construction business.”
Before he had a chance to reply, Winnie slapped him on the shoulder. “If you’re going to be in town a while, Caroline here could use your help. Tell him, sweetie.”
Pink rose in Caroline’s cheeks. “It’s nothing we can’t handle, really.”
Winnie almost exploded, and her words came out in a rush. “Then why did you call that Sherry woman and ask for the Bloomers help? Take care of it yourself, indeed. You should’ve asked me first.”
Hal’s head swung from one woman to the other in confusion. He had no idea what they were talking about, and apparently, Caroline didn’t want to tell him. “What’s going on?” He picked up his water glass.
Caroline glanced first at Winnie then at her hands and then at Hal. “Oh, according to a story in today’s paper, Woody wants to expand City Hall and the courthouse. They need it, I concede that, but he wants to use the land Founder’s Cottage sits on. I can’t let him do that to our ho
use.”
Hal almost choked on his water. Tearing down or moving the house would be terrible. Then he remembered Woody’s message. He had a building project and wanted Hal’s input. If this was the project, Woody had a lot of explaining to do.
Chapter 2
Hal left the tearoom and headed straight for the mayor’s office. Despite their longtime friendship, Woody couldn’t really expect Hal to go along with any plans to tear down Founder’s Cottage. It should have been designated a historical landmark years ago.
Blanche, the mayor’s secretary or aide or whatever they called them today, greeted him then retreated to let the mayor know Hal had arrived. Woody bolted from his office and approached Hal, his hand thrust out in welcome. “Thanks for coming. It’s good to see you. Come on into the office where we can talk.”
Hal nodded and shook his friend’s hand. At over sixty years of age, Woody was as scrawny as ever. He’d been a great basketball player in high school and even in college, but he should have put on some weight like the rest of the men his age had, Hal included.
When they entered the office, a large drawing on Woody’s desk caught Hal’s eye right away. A few pencil strokes added a wing to the present structure of the courthouse, and anyone familiar with the town could see it went right over the property holding Founder’s Cottage. Hal pointed his finger at it. “Is that what you wanted to see me about?”
Woody beamed and held up the paper. “Sure is. I need an architect’s perspective for what I’d like to see done with expanding our present facilities.”
“I see. How long have you been working on this?”
Heat flushed the mayor’s face to beet red. “Several weeks now. I want to have a good plan before I put it up for a vote with the council.”
“Seems to me the news got out before that could happen. The paper today made it sound like a done deal.”
“Well, I may have mentioned the idea to that Tate fellow. He asked a few questions, but I had no idea he’d write a story about it.”