The big Halloween party was the next item on the agenda.
A beaming Jack James said, “I have my costume.”
Everyone smiled except Barrett. Because of the mess with Sheila, he was in no mood for costumed foolishness.
Luis asked, “So, Barrett. Do you have yours?”
The look he gave Luis spoke for itself.
“Get a costume, man, or find out from Gem if it’s too late for her to make you one. We promised Tamar. Everyone’s supposed to wear one. It’ll be fun.”
“And you can’t come as a Marine,” Reg Garland jokingly added.
When Barrett shot Reggie the same impatient look he’d given Luis, everyone turned his way.
Jack asked in a serious tone, “Something on your mind you want to talk about?”
Here we go. Barrett sighed with frustration. “Yes. I’ve got issues with my wife running for mayor. She knew I was going to run.”
“Did you ask her why she wants to be on the ballot?”
“Yes. She said she thinks she’d be good at it, and then told me—” He stopped. “Never mind.” He was still trying to wrap his brain around her startling last words.
“What did she say?” Trent asked.
Barrett’s jaw tightened.
“Spill it, Barrett. You know there’re no secrets here. We’re going to find out sooner or later,” Gary Clark told him.
“More sooner than later, probably,” Jack pointed out.
They waited.
He surrendered and told them. “She said if I didn’t like her running, I could kiss her behind.”
Jaws dropped. Astonished looks were shared. Snickering and guffaws followed.
“Sheila said that?” an amused Mal asked. “The town’s vice president of social affairs? The flower-planting Sheila?”
Barrett glared.
Reg asked, “Did Preston put human malware in her coffee?”
Barrett didn’t care for the ribbing. “I know you all think this is hilarious, but I don’t. She doesn’t know the first thing about running a town.” He thought back to the claims she’d made about her high IQ and wondered why she’d never revealed the information before. What else didn’t he know about his wife?
Trent said, “Your wife’s a pretty smart lady. She can learn, especially with Lily and Bernadine to help. I’ll be around, too. I don’t want the job but that doesn’t mean I’ll be moving to the Virgin Islands.”
“You’re supposed to be taking my side,” Barrett tossed back.
Reg gave him a consoling pat on the back. “We’re just playing with you. It’s what we do. You know that.”
Jack asked, “Are you going to withdraw?”
“No!”
Jack chuckled and raised his hands defensively. “Just asking, man. Sorry.”
Barrett grumbled, “If you don’t have any constructive advice, I’ll just figure it out on my own.” The idea that she might win was keeping him awake at night. “What if she wins?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.
Luis said, “You know, Barrett, as head of town security you already have the most important job in town. You don’t need to be mayor.”
Barrett eyed him coolly. “Meaning?”
“You keep us safe. All of us,” Luis said, gesturing around the room with his can of beer. “Our kids, wives, everybody. What you do for this town matters. Personally, I don’t care if Sheila wins, as long as you’re heading up security.”
Trent added, “And if she does win, she’s smart enough to keep you in that position. Riley, of course, would probably appoint Cletus’s cousin, but since Curry has no chance of coming out on top, we won’t have to worry.”
Barrett admittedly hadn’t thought about his role in those terms, but realized they were right. Keeping the citizens safe was of utmost importance. He hadn’t been able to prevent the hit woman from nearly killing Sam Miller, but that screwup was on the FBI, not him.
Reg asked, “Better?”
He wasn’t but nodded to move the conversation to something else.
Trent raised his beer. “To Dads Incorporated! Fixing dads is what we do!”
“Hear! Hear!”
But Barrett still wanted to be the mayor and wondered what might make Sheila drop out of the race.
WHEN BARRETT GOT home, Preston and Amari were lying on the living room’s carpeted floor with a chessboard between them. Preston’s face was lined with worry as he pondered his next move. Amari, looking quietly pleased, waited for Preston to decide.
Barrett studied the board and saw that his son had good reason to be worried. His BFF was three moves from declaring checkmate.
Without looking up from his impending defeat, Preston asked, “How’d the Dads meeting go?”
“It went okay.”
“Are we all set to go to see the Buffalo Soldier Monument?”
“Yes. Is your mom here?”
Preston made a move and the smiling Amari quickly pounced.
“Aw, man!” Preston protested, now only two moves from being ended. “Why can’t I ever beat you anymore?”
“Hey, you taught me; I wouldn’t be this good if you hadn’t.”
Barrett always admired the way Amari supported Preston, even when he was kicking Preston’s behind in chess.
Preston sighed. “Mom’s over at Amari’s talking to Ms. Lily about her campaign.” Preston glanced up then, as if gauging Barrett’s response.
Barrett kept his face neutral or at least tried.
Amari, eyes on the board, said, “I think we should ask Mr. Abbott if he’d like to go see the monument, too. I bet he’s never seen it.” Abbott was the new teacher.
Barrett was glad Amari pulled them away from talking about the election. “That’s a great idea. You should run it by your dad.”
“Will do. Checkmate, my friend.”
Preston groaned.
Barrett smiled and left them to their game.
A short while later, he was in the bedroom using Google to read up on property taxation when Sheila came in. They’d been tiptoeing around each other since the declaration night at the Dog.
“How was your meeting with the Dads?” she asked.
He shrugged. “The usual. Preston said you and Lily were talking about your campaign?”
“Yes. She’s going to be my campaign manager. Have you decided on yours yet?”
“No.”
“Do you have someone in mind?”
He went back to the screen. “No.”
“You really need to stop pouting, Barrett. This is a small-town election, not the presidency. Why can’t you view the race as a friendly competition? It could be fun.”
“I’m your husband. Do you have any idea how you running against me makes me look?”
“To whom?”
“To everyone. A woman is supposed to support her husband.”
She replied calmly, “I’ve supported you for as long as we’ve been married. Every time you took on a new assignment, I packed up the household and moved. No pouting. No whining. No complaints. Me wanting to be mayor is about supporting myself for once. This has nothing to do with your ego and I’m sorry if you don’t understand that.”
Truthfully, his ego was bruised, and he didn’t like having her point it out. It made him look small and petty. But he was the man. He was supposed to be wearing the pants. “If I ask you to drop out, would you?”
Her lips thinned and she shook her head as if he were truly pitiful. “I’ll be sleeping in the guest room. See you in the morning.” Calmly gathering her night things, she left.
He supposed he had his answer.
Chapter
7
In her office, Bernadine began her workday with a cup of coffee and her planner. The to-do list wasn’t extensive but it was enough to keep her mind off Mal. First order of business was to start the wheels turning on the survey of Marie’s land so they could see why Leo was so interested. According to the quick talk she’d had with Trent, the state of Kansas was at one
time among the biggest producers of oil in the nation. Small independent companies had paid top dollar to lease land for drilling, and many farmers became millionaires overnight. In 2014, when the bottom fell out, companies pulled back on drilling and investments. The pipeline Leo’s company wanted to construct two years ago hadn’t been tied to drilling but to funneling oil from Canada to regions south of the state. The question as to why Leo was coveting Marie’s land remained. Bernadine hoped the ground survey would offer an answer.
Another item on her list was the restaurant she, Rocky James, and Tina Craig were building. With the blueprints completed she needed to bring the parties together for a meeting. Bernadine was excited to get started on the project. If all went well, folks in the area would be sitting down to some fine dining by spring. Rocky was looking over bios of chefs who might be enticed to run their kitchen, but they knew it wasn’t going to be easy finding someone willing to relocate to basically the middle of nowhere. With the meetup with the architect in mind, Bernadine sent Rocky and Tina emails to see what their schedules looked like for the next couple of days. The sooner they could meet with the architect, the sooner they could get started. To her delight, both women replied immediately. Rocky indicated she was available any time. Tina sent back that she’d finally escaped the drama in Switzerland and would be in Henry Adams the following afternoon. Bernadine dashed off a quick email to the architect to propose they meet the morning after Tina’s arrival and waited to see if that was agreeable.
While she waited for a response, she brought up on-screen the agreement her lawyers were putting together to facilitate the ownership transfer of Marie’s land. Bernadine still wished Marie had a better solution, but like Marie didn’t want the historic homestead sold to someone who might decide to build a fast-food place on the acreage. The land not only represented an important part of Henry Adams’s history, but there were still kids to raise, and the parents needed the Jefferson fence. She was reading through the clauses when Trent and his assistant, Bobby Douglas, stopped by.
“I signed off on the coffee shop agreement with the college,” Trent told her. “And the company I want to do the survey of Marie’s land can’t get here until next week.”
“That’s okay. What’s on the mayor’s agenda today?”
“We’re on our way to meet with the crew that’ll be leveling the soil for Tina’s B&B, so they can get started, then Bobby and I will finish draining the outdoor pool and lock it down for the winter.”
“I wonder if Astrid is still mad that we named the pool after her?”
“Probably.”
Bernadine thought naming the community pool of a historic African-American town after a self-proclaimed bigot was a treat on so many levels. “Let’s hope she stays mad.”
“And stays out of our hair,” Bobby added.
Bernadine raised her coffee cup in agreement. “Amen.”
After their exit, Lily entered and closed the door, which confused Bernadine. “Why’d you close the door?”
“Super secret stuff.”
Bernadine laughed. “Really? What kind of super secret stuff?”
“Stuff on Leo.”
Bernadine stilled.
Lily said, “No way he gets to come back to town and we not know what he’s up to.”
Bernadine was even more confused.
“Last week, I ran into on old high school friend at the grocery store. Name’s Jane Hubbard. Haven’t seen her in a while, so I asked what she’d been up to. Told me about her husband and kids, and that she’d just taken a job that was supposed to be a personal assistant. In reality it was more like chief cook and bottle washer, but it pays well. Said the guy she works for is a pompous ass. When she said Mr. Pompous Ass was named Leo Brown, I almost fell over. I told her who he was, and his history.” Lily grinned. “She’s now my spy.”
Bernadine laughed. “What?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m heading up the Henry Adams Counterintelligence Unit.”
She loved Lily Fontaine July so much. “I hope you’re paying her?”
“I am. Do you want to hear my first report?”
“Yes.”
“First, he’s trying to sue Astrid for the mess with his car.”
“Why?”
“Something to do with the clerk being on his phone instead of on his job when the pump was put in the window.”
“Astrid won’t be happy with that.”
“Not a bit. He also had Riley over for dinner, and after Riley left, Big Al Stillwell stopped by. Jane said Leo looked shook when Big Al left.”
Bernadine wondered if Leo knew Stillwell wasn’t a person to mess with. Even though he hadn’t been involved with the arson fire set by his mother or in running Bernadine off the road, she’d bet her condo in Spain that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Mean and crazy was probably in Big Al’s blood. “I wonder why Leo was shook?”
“She said she didn’t know, but that Big Al didn’t appear happy when he left.”
“Doesn’t give us much to go on, but it is interesting. Tell your friend not to take any chances playing Mata Hari, especially if she needs the job. I don’t want Leo to find out she’s tattling and fire her.”
“We talked about that, but she said she’d keep her eyes open for me. Gives her something to do beside the cooking and cleaning.”
Bernadine found this turn of events interesting, indeed. “Keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
They spent a few more minutes discussing the items on their respective to-do lists before Lily left to get her work done. Sitting alone, Bernadine wondered what secrets Leo might be hiding and if they would splash on the people she loved.
For the rest of the morning, Bernadine handled phone calls, emails, and texts. The architect confirmed the meeting for the proposed day. After sending the info on to Rocky and Tina, she scratched that off her list. At lunchtime, she called in a carry-out order to the Dog.
When Bernadine went to pick up her food, Toni Braxton was on the jukebox singing about seven long days and Mal was at the hostess stand.
“I called in a carryout,” she said, wishing the memories of being with him would hurry up and fade away. Each time she saw him they rose like a whispering ghost.
“It’s ready.” Reaching behind him, he picked up the brown bag and handed it over.
“Thanks. You added the bill to my tab?”
He nodded.
For a moment time stood still. The ghost surfaced, reminding her what they’d lost. A tiny shard of hope struggled to gain life, and she wondered if he felt the pull of it, too. It didn’t matter. A group of farmers entered, and their spirited laugh-filled conversation killed the moment and brought back reality. She gave him a terse nod of thanks and exited.
Bernadine returned to work to find Crystal seated in one of the office chairs, flipping through a magazine. “Hey, Crys.” They’d had their talk about the failed dinner, so Bernadine was pleased to see her. Bernadine set her lunch on her desk. “What brings you by?”
“Ms. Sheila wants me to be the art director for her campaign, so I need to know if it’s okay with you.”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Me being your daughter doesn’t make it illegal or anything?”
“Not that I know of, no. What kinds of things are you going to be doing?”
“Campaign posters, flyers, that sort of stuff. She said she’d pay me. And . . .”
The tone of that one word set off Bernadine’s Mama Spidey sense, and she paused in removing her salad from the bag. “And what?”
“I had dinner with Diego last night.”
Bernadine waited.
“It was just dinner, nothing else. I thought I’d tell you before you heard it in the streets. I know how it is around here. Folks know your business before you know it yourself.”
“True.”
“We were just catching up. He’s getting his GED.”
“That’s great.” And it was. “So no
eloping to Zimbabwe?”
That brought a laugh. “No eloping to Zimbabwe, or anyplace else. Just a dinner between friends. He’s still the finest guy on the planet, but I need more than fine from a guy.”
“Listen to you being all mature.”
“Just looking to have a relationship with somebody who has their stuff together. He’s not there yet.”
Bernadine was impressed. Two years ago, Diego, with his big motorcycle, bad boy persona, and multiple mug shots was all Crystal could see. When he finally and rightfully told her she was too young and too classy for someone like him, she’d been devastated.
Crystal stood. “I need to get to class. I’ll text you this evening.”
“Okay. Ladies Auxiliary meets this evening at Sheila’s. I’ll be home after we’re done.”
They shared words of goodbye. Crystal departed, leaving behind a very pleased mom.
THE MEN OF Henry Adams had Dads Inc., and the women had the Ladies Auxiliary. Like the men, the women used their gatherings to discuss town-related issues, their ongoing lives, and to support one another. In the past, most meetings were held at Tamar’s place, but lately, they’d been rotating hosting and this evening they were convening at the Paynes’ home. Anticipating their arrival, Sheila took in the beautifully appointed buffet table with its vase of fresh flowers, the extra seating, and the way the house sparkled. Everything was ready. The only thing not ready in other parts of her world was her husband. His continued unhappiness showed in his glum face, the lack of conversation at the dinner table, and his disinterest in her questions about how his campaign was going. The candidates’ debate would be next week. She’d suggested they share their platforms to rehearse and refine their responses to any questions that might come up. He’d turned her down. She explained that her intent wasn’t to steal his ideas, but he seemed not to believe that, so she gave up. He’d do his thing and she’d do hers. Separately. The refusal stung, however, and she supposed she’d been naïve to think they could compete in a friendly, mutually supportive way. As the doorbell sounded, Sheila sighed as she put aside her disappointment and went to greet her guests.
On the Corner of Hope and Main Page 8
