I made a batch of my double chocolate brownies for Julia and Randy’s barbecue, and Dylan picked out a red wine from his collection that he knew Uncle Bosco liked. I also bought a book for each of the kids—one about the planets for Mark and a humorous picture book for Tacey. Julia had said to come around two, so after feeding Smoky Joe an extra portion of treats, we set out at twenty to. Though the sun was shining, it was cooler than it had been all week.
Dylan had readily agreed to accompany me to my cousins’ barbecue. He’d gotten to know them from the few family gatherings he’d attended and seemed to enjoy their company, including that of Tacey and her eight-year-old brother, Mark.
Besides, he was very fond of my great-uncle Bosco and great-aunt Harriet, whom he’d known all his life. As a boy, Dylan had often visited the Singleton Farm, where they’d lived before moving to one of the few remaining private residences on the far side of the Green from the library, to play with my brother Jordan during the summer months we came to visit.
When we stopped at a red light, I leaned over to kiss Dylan’s cheek.
“What’s that for?”
“I’m glad you don’t mind going to my cousins’ today?”
“Why should I mind? They’re nice people and Julia’s a great cook.”
“And you know Aunt Harriet’s bound to bring two homemade desserts.”
“That, too, not to mention your brownies, which you only make for special occasions.”
“Whatever’s left after you swiped a handful of them.”
“What can I say, babe? I’ve got no control when it comes to your brownies.”
We both laughed, but I was suddenly aware of how important it was to me that Dylan got along well with the people I loved. He and my dad were great pals as well as work colleagues now that Jim was working for the company with Mac in the Atlanta office. Dylan’s relationship with my family wasn’t something I had ever given much thought to … until recently.
The barbecue was in full swing as we followed the path around the side of the house to the beautiful redwood deck off the kitchen that Julia and Randy had built last year. Dylan and I exchanged hugs with everyone and I handed Mark and Tacey their books. They thanked me and seemed to like what I’d chosen, then I went into the kitchen to drop off the brownies. Uncle Bosco was already uncorking the bottle of wine Dylan had brought.
When I rejoined the others on the deck, Mark asked, “Cousin Carrie, did Mom show you the photos we took the day we were in the movie?”
I shook my head. “No, I’d love to see them.”
“They’re on the iPad. I’ll go get it.” Mark dashed into the house and returned a minute later.
I looked at the pictures of Mark, Tacey, and Julia taken the day they were extras in I Love You, I Do, the movie that had recently been filmed in Clover Ridge.
“And here we are with Tom and your mother,” Mark said. Tom Farrell, my mother’s husband, had a major role in the movie.
“Have you heard from Linda since they went back to California?” Uncle Bosco asked, handing me a glass of white wine.
“Just a text to say they had arrived safely.”
“Figures,” Uncle Bosco said.
He was never fond of my mother when she’d been married to my father, and his opinion hadn’t changed during her recent visit. My mother was a difficult woman—self-absorbed and manipulative—not the warm, maternal mother I’d yearned for growing up. But during the weeks she and Tom were here in Clover Ridge we’d grown a bit closer, and I was learning to accept her as she was.
Aunt Harriet and Julia wanted to hear all about Angela’s shower, so I told them in detail as we made a large salad and attended to the side dishes in the kitchen.
“A friend of mine went to Dr. Harrington when she broke her arm,” Julia said. “She was very pleased with the care she received and how well the break healed.”
“I’m not surprised,” I said. “Aiden struck me as a very caring person as well as a conscientious doctor.”
We carried the dishes to the table outside, then I stopped to watch my cousin Randy skillfully turn chicken parts, hamburgers, and hot dogs on the grill.
“I see you’re quite an expert at this,” I said.
Randy grinned at his son and daughter, who were watching him too. “I have to be, with this crowd giving orders.”
“I like to eat my chicken and my hot dog at the same time,” Tacey explained.
Minutes later, the eight of us were seated around the large round table. Randy had tilted the umbrella so that it blocked the sun from everyone’s eyes. I helped spoon out salads and beans while Randy went around with a huge platter of meat, asking everyone what they wanted.
Both Tacey and Mark were very decisive about what they would and would not eat. Tacey wanted lots of potato salad to go with her hot dog and chicken leg, while Mark only wanted baked beans and two hot dogs. Neither Julia nor Randy urged them to try other foods. I wondered if I would nag my children to eat salad or veggies because it was good for them.
But why was I wondering if and how I’d regulate my children’s eating habits when I didn’t have any and becoming a parent was the furthest thing from my mind?
“Looks like the library construction work will begin in early September as planned,” Uncle Bosco said, interrupting my musings. He was a member of the library board and responsible for having suggested that they hire me to fill the position I now held. “You’ll be hearing plenty of noise, especially when they break through the connecting wall to form the archway between the two buildings.
I grimaced. “I don’t look forward to the commotion, but I’ll be happy when it’s all done.”
“I thought it was brilliant of the library to buy the building next door and enlarge it that way,” Julia said. “I bet the Clover Ridge Library turns out to be one of the most impressive libraries in the state.”
“Since we’re on the Green, buying the building next door was the only possible option,” I said. “Unless we expanded upward.”
“And that was too limiting, since the town rule is that buildings around the Green may be no more than two stories high,” Uncle Bosco said. “The library board had been eyeing the building next door for years. Trouble was, its ownership was in dispute by three members of a family, each claiming it was his or hers by rights. The only thing they agreed on was setting up an account for minimum upkeep and taxes. The case was finally settled and, with the generous donations of some of our wealthier patrons, we managed to buy it. Now we have as much space as we need, and the parking lot will almost double the current size.”
“Parking is always a problem,” Aunt Harriet said.
“I can’t wait to start planning events for our stadium-seating auditorium,” I said. “Think of all the plays and concerts we’ll present!”
Uncle Bosco reached across the table to pat my hand. “Your domain, my dear Carrie. Aren’t you glad you stayed and took the job instead of leaving town like you were thinking of doing at one time?”
I squeezed his hand. “You have no idea how happy I am that I stayed.”
“I’ll second that,” Dylan said.
When we finished eating, I helped Julia clear the table, which mostly involved dumping the paper plates and cups we’d used into a large plastic bag and refrigerating the leftovers.
Tacey took me upstairs to her room to show me her new doll. Then we sat down on her bed and talked about Evelyn.
“Miss Evelyn missed all the fun today,” Tacey said.
“Honey, you know you can only see her in the library,” I said, “and only when she decides to show up.”
The sigh she let out was too large for a four-year-old. “I suppose. But where does she go when she’s not in the library?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest idea. We just have to accept that there are many things we will never know about Miss Evelyn.”
“You mean, like accepting that it’s cold in the winter and hot in the summer?”
I grinned. “Kind of like that.”
We went downstairs, and I helped Julia set the table for dessert. She brewed a pot of coffee for the adults and brought out milk for Mark and Tacey. Aunt Harriet had made a pecan pie and an apple pie, two of my favorites. We placed them and my brownies, along with two containers of ice cream, out on the table.
For a few minutes, we were all too busy ingesting enough sugar to last us the week to speak. I caught Aunt Harriet and Uncle Bosco exchanging glances, then looking my way.
“All right. What are you two conspiring about?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Uncle Bosco said. “Let’s just enjoy our Sunday afternoon with our family.”
“Tell her,” Aunt Harriet said firmly. “You said you would.”
“Only because Al was twisting my arm.”
“Al? Are you talking about the mayor?”
Uncle Bosco exhaled loudly. “The one and only. I told him I’d think about bringing up the subject.”
Aunt Harriet narrowed her eyes at him. “But then we discussed it …”
I threw up my hands in frustration. “Put me out of my misery and tell me what Al Tripp wants you to discuss with me. Please!”
Uncle Bosco pursed his lips. “Okay, Carrie. It’s this—Al would like you to consider taking a position on the town council board.”
“Oh. That.”
Randy laughed. “That’s a pretty big honor, cuz, but you don’t sound the least bit surprised.”
I turned to the cousin who used to tease me mercilessly when I came to spend summers on the farm. “That’s because when Al was in the library a few weeks ago, he told me I should consider running for town council.”
Now it was my aunt and uncle’s turn to look surprised.
“You never said,” Uncle Bosco said, sounding hurt.
“Why would I? I told Al that my job and my personal life keep me very busy.”
“Not to mention solving all those mysteries,” Randy added with a twinkle in his eye.
“That, too,” Dylan said.
I watched Uncle Bosco fold and refold a paper napkin. There was more.
“The thing is, Carrie, Jeannette Rivers is planning to move in a few months. With her gone, that leaves two males besides Al and one female on the board. Al thinks it only fair to bring in another female. Someone young, someone who has her finger on the pulse of the community.”
“And Al, knowing how I feel about this, presumed on your friendship and asked you to ask me,” I finished, not hiding my displeasure.
Rebuked, Uncle Bosco nodded. “It would only be for a year. Jeannette’s position is up a year from November.”
“The board meets twice a month,” Aunt Harriet said.
“And gets embroiled in all kinds of town issues,” I said. “You can tell Al ‘thanks but no thanks.’”
Aunt Harriet smiled as she placed her hand on my shoulder. “Carrie, do you remember how you reacted when Sally offered you the library position last October?”
Reluctantly, I nodded.
“You were all set to take off—to God knows where. Your uncle and I advised you to consider taking the job. And if you didn’t like it after giving it a try, well, then you could always quit.”
I squeezed my aunt’s hand. “I remember.”
“All Bosco and I want you to do is to think about Al’s offer. Like Randy says, it is an honor.”
“All right.” I turned to Uncle Bosco. “When does Al want an answer?”
“You’ve got plenty of time. Till the end of July to decide.”
Julia quickly changed the conversation to the Singleton family picnic that was coming up in August, but I couldn’t shake my foul mood. I’d been blindsided by Uncle Bosco acting as Al Tripp’s messenger. Our esteemed mayor had no right pressuring me to join the council. Not after I’d made it very plain that I didn’t want the position.
Aunt Harriet caught on immediately that their little surprise had gone awry. When Dylan and I bid everyone good night some fifteen minutes later, she apologized.
“I’m so sorry, Carrie.” She spoke low so no one could hear. “Your uncle wanted nothing to do with Al’s proposal, but I urged him to sound you out. I thought you would see it as a compliment.”
“I don’t like being put in a position of having to explain myself after I’ve made my wishes very clear,” I said.
“Of course, my dear. You know what’s best.”
Dylan and I left shortly after. We drove home in silence. I kept my hand in his so he’d know my mood had nothing to do with him.
When we stopped at a red light, he turned to me. “You know I’ll go along with whatever you decide.”
I nodded. “Thank you. I just don’t like being pressured into doing something.”
Dylan laughed. “I can understand that, but people ask you to do things all the time and I’ve never seen you react the way you did tonight.”
I thought about it. “You’re right,” I said as we continued on our way. “I felt like I was being conned into doing something I don’t want to do. My mother did it often enough—getting me to handle something she should have taken care of herself.”
“I get that,” Dylan said, “but this isn’t Linda being manipulative. This is our mayor offering you a very prestigious position because he sees you as a concerned citizen capable of weighing in on important decisions.”
“I suppose,” I said grudgingly.
“You don’t have to join the council, babe, but I wish you would give it some thought before you turn down the offer.”
“Why, Dylan?”
“Because I think Al’s right—you would make a wonderful addition to the council.” He cleared his throat. “And if we’re going to be living in Clover Ridge for the long haul, we might as well get involved where we can do some good.”