Coming to Rosemont (15 page)

He shrugged dismissively and slithered into the
crowd.

***

The games started up at the
conclusion of the egg hunt. Children hopped across the lawn in pillowcases. The
longest Hula-Hoop spin was won by a woman of indeterminate age from Fairview
Terraces, an assisted-living village across town that deposited a busload of seniors
itching for a good time. She told the crowd she used a Hula-Hoop every day for
exercise. She certainly had the technique down pat. She continued long after
everyone else’s hoop hit the ground and kept hers going for an astonishing
twelve minutes. The raw egg toss tested the skill of the softball players in
the crowd, and the three-legged race was popular with families. All in all,
there was something for everyone.

By the end of the afternoon, every item from the
bake sale had been sold and, mostly, consumed on the spot. The silent auction
winners were announced. Everything brought more than the minimum bid. The
winners were lining up to pay Tim and collect their items. A quick tally showed
that the silent auction netted more than six thousand dollars—double what
they expected. The incessant bickering between Charlotte and Judy came to an
abrupt stop, and they were now tripping over each other to bestow compliments.

By two thirty, most of the crowd had departed and
the off-duty officers were doing a fine job of herding the stragglers and
directing traffic out of the neighborhood. Joe Appleby was as good as his word,
and he and his crew set to work gathering trash and helping anyone in their
path. Once more, the group on the lawn looked like a circus crew, this time
breaking camp. Maggie, Tim, and Dottie retired to the library to officially
tally the take. The silent auction had brought in $6,892, the bake sale $720,
and the voluntary admission donations came in at $4,620. The total was a solid
$12,232.

The three sank back into their chairs and looked
at each other in stunned silence. The grin that started with Tim migrated to
the other two. “Holy cow,” Dottie blurted out. “I wouldn’t have predicted this
in a million years.”

“Susan and I set a goal of ten thousand, which we
created out of whole cloth. We had no idea how we were going to get there. And
now we’ve exceeded it. I can’t believe it.”

Tim looked at Maggie intently. “You got all of
this up and running in a little over a week. Mobilized all of us. When I first
heard about this, I volunteered my time because I like the people you’re trying
to help. But I didn’t think you would even raise a thousand.”

“I have to agree with Tim,” Dottie said. “The bank
sent me here as a public relations gesture. I didn’t think you would need our
services. I’m blown away.”

“And it was a whole lot of fun,” Tim added. “We
could see the day unfold from where we sat, and it looked like everyone was
having a blast.”

“The paper sent that young reporter out to cover
it. I can’t wait to see what she writes. Which reminds me, I promised to call
her with the final tally.” Dottie said, stepping away with cell phone in hand.

Tim turned back to Maggie. “You know what? You
should run for political office. Maybe the next council election. We certainly
need new leadership. You’ve got the vision, the will, and the knack of inspiring
people to action. We need a fresh perspective around here.”

Maggie looked at him like he had two heads. “Are
you crazy? I’ve never been political in my life, much less run for any kind of
public office. No one knows me; no one would ever vote for me.” She laughed.
“But thank you for the compliment.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Tim responded. “Think
about it. That’s all I’m suggesting.”

George Holmes announced the grand total from the
same stump he had climbed earlier in the day to start the egg hunt. His booming
voice reached a crescendo when he said, “Twelve THOUSAND two hundred thirty-two
dollars!” The assembled group of volunteers whistled, clapped, and cheered.
Maggie waved to get their attention. George jumped down, and he and Alex gave
Maggie a hand up onto the stump.

“Thank you, thank you all,” she said, gesturing
for silence. Maggie glanced over at Tim and realized, with a jolt, that she was
literally making a stump speech. She cleared her throat and raised her voice.
“I can’t believe it, can you?” The crowd responded again with whistles and
cheers. She once more signaled for quiet. “Except I really can believe it, come
to think of it. I’ve watched all of you for the past few weeks. You are the
most caring, capable group of people I’ve ever had the privilege to work with.
And I’ve been involved with a lot of community groups.” She paused and scanned
the crowd. “This is all due to your efforts. You formed a team to help each
other and make it happen. You came up with the ideas. Without any input or
follow-up from me. No fanfare, no attention-grabbing. Just people pulling
together for the good of their neighbors. I did the least amount of anyone.” At
this, a general denial rippled through the crowd. Maggie ignored it and
continued. “I’m so proud to be associated with each and every one of you and so
thankful I inherited this remarkable house that brought me to all of you. I
know that we’ve got problems in Westbury, but with this kind of energy and
ingenuity, we can fix anything. Westbury surely has a positive future with all
of you involved. So here’s to all of you. Give yourselves a hand,” she
concluded as the crowd once more erupted.

“Now that sounded very much like a campaign
speech, young lady,” Tim observed as he helped her down.

Almost everyone and everything had cleared out
before dinnertime. Clouds were stacking up in the western sky and rain was in
the overnight forecast. What wasn’t hauled away was stashed under cover on the
patio. Maggie and Susan talked about starting to prepare for the next day’s
brunch, but in the end were too exhausted and collapsed in front of the TV.
They finally got enough energy to get off the couch and go to bed shortly
before nine, promising to get started early the next morning.

Chapter 23

Maggie groaned when her alarm went
off Easter morning. She was flat-out pooped. Why on earth had they planned a
party on the day after the carnival? Was she nuts or what? And what possessed
them to buy all of that food that required so much preparation? Why hadn’t they
stuck to an easier menu? As usual, the thought that with proper planning she
could accomplish anything was her undoing. This was the evil side of being well
organized. Her reach sometimes exceeded her grasp, and she committed to stuff
she shouldn’t. Well, she’d just have to adjust the menu on the fly. She pushed
the snooze button one more time and drifted back to sleep.

Yikes! It’s eight thirty,
Maggie panicked
as she looked at her bedside clock. People would be arriving at eleven, and she
was way behind now. She shrugged on her robe, stuck her glasses on her face,
and raced down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she was greeted with
the aroma of strong coffee and the murmur of cheerful voices coming from the
kitchen.

Susan, Alex, and Marc were all busy and calmly on
task when Maggie appeared. Marc was slicing fruit. Alex was frying up sausage
and bacon for Maggie’s famous Smokehouse Quartet casserole. And Susan was
arranging from-scratch cinnamon rolls in the pan for the final rise.

“Hey, Mom. I was going to come get you as soon as
I was done with these,” Susan said, gesturing to the rolls.

“I about had a heart attack when I looked at the
clock just now. I can’t believe I overslept two days in a row. Looks like you
three have everything well in hand,” Maggie observed.

“I think so,” Marc said, handing her a cup of
coffee. “What else needs to be done?”

“Just the sauce for Smokehouse Quartet and the egg
casserole. Do you want to make the sauce, Mom? Or teach me how? I’ve never gotten
the hang of it. We can throw the egg dish together in a nanosecond and then I
think we’re ready.”

“I’ll show you how; it’s easy. I feel guilty for
leaving you in the lurch while I slept in. Did you get the paper? Is there a
nice story about the carnival?”

The three exchanged a nervous glance. “Okay. Let
me see it, right now.”

Alex handed her the soggy front page and gestured
to the bottom left-hand column where a headline announced, “Council Throws
Successful Fundraiser for Pension Fund.” The picture of Haynes shaking hands with
Brian Gordon was featured, with a caption detailing the amount raised. The
article continued on page three with quotes from Haynes and a brief mention
that Mrs. Martin allowed the council to hold the carnival at Rosemont.

“What?!” Maggie exploded with anger. “This is my
fault. I’m so naïve. I overheard him talking to the reporter and taking all the
credit. I should have pulled her aside and set the record straight. I thought
she saw through him. Well, this is just perfect!” she fumed. “Everyone is going
to be furious.”

“I’m not sure anything you said would have made a
difference,” Alex opined. “Haynes has made a fortune from his fast-food franchises
and is well known around here as a philanthropist. He founded and funds the
no-kill animal shelter, as you know. And he gives to every charitable cause.
Donates gift certificates. Sponsors youth sports teams. The name Haynes
Enterprises is on most of the uniforms. Haynes Gymnasium at the high school.”

“You’ve met him,” Marc broke in. “He’s shrewd and
relentlessly self-promoting. Knows how to spread his money around and buy
people. That’s why he always gets re-elected. So many are beholding to him.”

“So you don’t think he cares about the causes?
He’s just buying votes?” Susan asked. “What about the shelter? That seems
nice.”

“You know, that may be his soft spot. He loves
animals. He’s known for rescuing strays, and he’s devoted to his own dog. He attends
the games of the teams he sponsors and turns up at charity events, like the
carnival. But I think he’s better with animals than with people,” Alex replied.

“Does he have a family?” Maggie asked.

“No. He was in a bitter divorce about ten years
ago. One of my partners represented his wife. They didn’t have
kids—should have been an easy matter to divide up the property, but
Haynes concealed assets and was hell-bent on leaving her high and dry. It
stretched on for years. He finally wore her down, and she settled for way less
than she was entitled to. Told my partner that she simply had to be done with
him.”

“What an odd duck. I guess the important thing is
that we raised all this money for the pension fund. But it still infuriates me
that he took the credit,” Maggie seethed. “Enough whining. Let’s get this
wrapped up so we can all get dressed and back down here by ten thirty to put
stuff in the oven.”

***

When Sam and Joan arrived shortly
before eleven, everything at Rosemont was ready. The smell of baking cinnamon
rolls wafted from the kitchen. The predicted rain had materialized, and the day
was chilly and gray. Maggie lit a fire in the living room’s massive hearth, and
Rosemont became cozy and inviting. John pulled up next, with an excited Eve in
tow. He reported that she had gotten along famously with his dog.

Maggie and Susan set the food on the sideboard in
the dining room. The chandelier and candles were lit, and the china and silver
sparkled. It all looked spectacular, like something from the pages of
Gracious
Homes
magazine. Susan snatched her cell phone and took a couple of photos.
“Before it all gets messed up,” she told her mother.

Tim and Nancy Knudsen brought four bottles of
really good champagne. They began brunch with a toast to the success of the
carnival and to the restoration of health and prosperity to Westbury. Maggie
later reflected that her first meal in her new dining room had been everything
she could have hoped for and more. Everyone complimented the excellent food,
but food alone is never enough to assure a successful party. The congeniality
of the company made the day. Goodwill toward all was the underlying current.
Susan whispered to her mother that she just loved these people and wanted to
take them home with her.

When the meal was over, they took their coffee in
the living room by the fire. The conversation turned to the investigation.

“Chief Thomas is a good, honest man,” Tim said.
“He’ll get to the bottom of this. It may take time.”

“I just hope we still have some money left in the
town coffers when he’s done,” Pete said. “So what happens if they arrest the
mayor or some of the council? Will they have to step down or can they continue
in office until they’re tried and convicted?”

“Technically, they can stay in office,” Alex
answered. “Innocent until proven guilty and all that. If they think they’re
going to be convicted, they may cut a plea deal and resign their seats.”

“Then what happens?” asked Tim. “Does someone
assume their duties until the next election, or is there a special election?”

“If the mayor resigns, they hold a special
election. If a council-member goes, the council can fill the vacant seat for
the remainder of their term. Elections are expensive to hold,” Alex responded.

“Will you run for mayor again if that happens?”
Maggie asked Alex. He paused and glanced over at Marc. “We’ve been discussing
it,” he said. “Haven’t decided yet.”

“It’s up to Alex, of course, but I think he would
be the best mayor this town ever had. He has a vision for where we can take
Westbury in the twenty-first century,” Marc stated.

“If you decide to run,” Sam said, “I’ll help with
your campaign however I can. Make signs and put them up, hand out
flyers—whatever. I just can’t make any speeches,” he added hastily.

“We don’t have anything to run for yet, but I
appreciate your offer,” Alex smiled.

There didn’t seem to be anything else to add and
the conversation turned to Laura and Pete and the happy topic of the baby on
the way. By the end of the afternoon, people reluctantly gathered their coats
and umbrellas and headed home, restored and uplifted by the congenial day.

John hung back and offered his services as
dishwasher extraordinaire to Maggie. She was about to politely decline when
Susan responded with a hearty, “Sure. That would be great. Right this way.”

Marc and Alex had already started working. Maggie
took charge and declared that Susan, Marc, and Alex were relieved of KP duty
immediately. They had prepared most of the meal and it simply wasn’t fair to
also clean up. They happily turned in their dishtowels.

Maggie tuned the satellite radio to the Sinatra
station and dried and put away dishes as John washed. They worked in
companionable silence for a bit, enjoying the music and the immediate
gratification that washing dishes can bring. John broke the silence. “You gave
a heck of a stump speech yesterday. Have you ever thought about running for
office? Have you ever held political office?”

Maggie smiled and shook her head. “Absolutely not.
I’ve never had the slightest interest. I’ve known a lot of politicians, though.
And I’ve worked on lots of races at the local level. If Alex runs for office,
I’ll help with his campaign,” she said. “How about you? Have you ever held
office? Do you have any aspirations?”

John laughed. “No. Not me. My practice keeps me
too busy. I work fifty to sixty hours a week right now as it is. And I used to
work eighty hours, until I hired a good bookkeeper. If Alex runs for mayor or
council, I’ll help him. Probably just write a check to his campaign fund. He’s
a good man.”

They finished their task and Maggie fed Eve.
“Thank you for taking care of her. It would have been a nightmare having her
underfoot.” John took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “And I think you
should head home to get a good night’s sleep before the week starts. I’ll walk
you out. Come on, Eve, let’s go say goodbye.”

Maggie slipped her hand through John’s arm as they
walked down the steps and across the gravel driveway to his car. “So what have
you gals got organized for this week?” John asked. “Any big mother-daughter
plans?”

“Not exactly. I need to work some of the time. I
bought the spa package from The Mill at the silent auction yesterday, so I
thought we’d do a spa day this week. We’ve been so busy that we haven’t really
talked about her breakup with Rob. I’ve been letting her lead the way on that
issue. Maybe it’s just as well that she’s had all of this to concentrate on.
She does seem happy, doesn’t she?”

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t have known she’s suffering
from a broken heart if you hadn’t told me about it. Maybe she’s finding that
she isn’t really as upset as she thought she would be. Sometimes distance gives
us that perspective. We find that we’re sad about not having what we wanted,
but that the relationship we lost wasn’t what we wanted anyway. We were just
building it up in our minds to be something it wasn’t. The person we loved
wasn’t who we thought they were. That’s what happened to my wife and me. She
hadn’t been the wife I wanted for many years. I mourned the loss of a relationship
I never had.”

Maggie looked at John intently. “Exactly,” she
said. “Very well put. I hope I can remember the way you said it if we get into
that conversation. I want us to have a bit more calm, quiet time together, so
she can open up to me if she wants to. Other than that, we will probably do
some retail therapy. And Susan is determined to get me settled into a new gym
so I can work out again. She’s right, of course. I need to do that. I’ve just
been putting it off.”

“I’d still like to take the two of you to dinner.
Can you work that into your schedule? Say when and I’ll make reservations. I
know just the place,” John said as he pulled Maggie around to face him. She
slid her arms around his shoulders and kissed him—a slow, leisurely,
lovely kiss.

“Kissing me like that is not the way to convince
me to leave,” John teased. Maggie gave him a playful shove toward his car, and
he was on his way.