Coming to Rosemont (14 page)

Chapter 21

Good Friday dawned with a promise
of showers that was fulfilled by midmorning. Light rain fell sporadically all
day. The gray skies did not dampen the mood of the volunteers in and out of
Rosemont.

Alex and Marc spent the morning in the library
filling plastic eggs with candy and prizes. In the afternoon they donned rain
gear and canvassed the lawn, charting the number that should go in each
quadrant and debating how many should be easy to find and how many difficult.
Eve stuck to them like glue.

Judy stopped by before opening her shop to drop
off items for the silent auction. The back of her old Suburban was packed. Marc
and Alex helped carry everything through the house to pile it by the back door.
Maggie showed Judy the tables for the silent auction on the covered patio.
“Unless we have a driving rain,” Maggie said, “these things should be fine
outside.” Judy assured her that they could cope with whatever nature had in
store for them and that she and Charlotte would arrive first thing in the
morning to set it all up. “I’m planning to be here all day tomorrow,” she said.
“This is where the action is going to be. I can always run to the store if they
need me.”

Both Tonya and Tim called. Tonya would be over in
the late after-noon to drop off popcorn and lemonade mix. Tim offered to be on
call to pick up or do anything they needed. Rosemont was in chaos, and Eve was
getting into everything. Maggie decided that her faithful companion needed to
spend the weekend elsewhere. She called Westbury Animal Hospital and arranged
to board her. She and Susan would deposit Eve and pick up groceries for the
Easter dinner she had planned for Sam and Joan, John, Alex and Marc, Tim and
his wife, and Laura and Pete. She also wanted to get fruit and pastries to
serve the workers who would be at Rosemont in the morning doing the final
set-up. Maggie made some additional notes on her grocery list, snapped the
leash on Eve, and she and Susan headed out into the drizzly day.

First stop was Westbury Animal Hospital. Maggie
told Susan she could wait in the car, no need to get out in the rain.
“Nonsense, Mom,” Susan said. “I might get a glimpse of this mystery man of
yours.”

“He’s not my mystery man,” Maggie sputtered. As it
turned out, John was with a patient. The technician at the counter told Maggie
that Dr. Allen would be taking Eve home with him for the weekend. There would
be no boarding fee.
Was it my imagination,
Maggie thought,
or was the
technician giving me an appraising glance?

The grocery shopping turned into a bigger
expedition than originally planned. The supermarket had most of what they
wanted, but not everything. Mother and daughter shared a love of cooking and
kept up a constant chatter about new recipes and recent trends in foods, which
vegetables were in style right now and which were on the wane. They stopped at
two specialty stops on the way home and eventually had everything they needed,
and a whole lot more.

It was pouring rain when they pulled into the
garage at Rosemont in midafternoon. Marc unloaded the groceries while Maggie
and Susan put them away. “Is anyone outside setting up?” Maggie asked.

“No,” Marc answered. “Sam called and said that he
and John will stop by after work to drop off the games. And Beth and Laura are
going to bring over the bake sale stuff they’ve collected. Alex went to the
office for a while and is going to stop at Tomascino’s on the way home to get
pizza for everyone. And I was just about to take a nap,” he concluded.

“Good plan,” Maggie said. “This is perfect nap
weather. If I wasn’t feeling so wired, I’d do the same. You go before you lose
the opportunity.”

Maggie turned to Susan. “Why don’t you go rest,
too? You look tired.”

“Mom,” Susan said. “I’m just like you. I couldn’t
sit still right now. Why don’t we set the table for Sunday dinner? Are we using
the formal dining room? It’s gorgeous. Have you used it yet?”

“Nope. This will be its maiden voyage,” Maggie
replied. “Wait until you see the china and linens I’ve inherited with this
place. And we’ve got all those ceramic rabbits I bought to use as a
centerpiece. You’re so creative; you can make this gorgeous. If the food
doesn’t turn out, no one will notice,” she teased.

With this happy task in their sights, they set to
work. They decided that the rabbits would show to best advantage on a large
ivory damask cloth and settled on the Portmeirion dinnerware. Dessert would be
served on square Wedgwood plates with a wide gilt border. They placed the last
piece of silver on the table and were standing in the doorway admiring their
handiwork when Alex came through the kitchen with a stack of pizza boxes.

“Laura and Beth just pulled up in front,” Alex
said. “Where do you want them to put the bake sale stuff?” He set the pizza
boxes on the kitchen island and trailed off to the front door. Susan smiled at
Maggie. “Looks like our break is over. Time to launch back into high gear for
tomorrow.” She turned back to her mother. “This has been such a fun day. I’m
totally into it,” she said, waving her hand to encompass the preparations
around her. “And I’m feeling much better.” She smiled and headed off after
Alex.

The rest of the evening was a blur of activity.
There were so many moving pieces to what needed to happen the next day that
Maggie lost track. The volunteers, however, were on top of their responsibilities,
and Maggie decided to quit worrying and trust that all would be in order.

Pizza had been a grand idea. The atmosphere was
relaxed and festive. The rain had stopped and the clouds in the night sky were
thinning. She took a supply of trash bags outside to stash for use the next
day.
We’re going to have a fine day tomorrow,
Maggie realized. She
walked to the bottom of the lawn and turned to look back at Rosemont. The house
was brightly lit and people were clustered in groups, talking, teasing,
gesturing. Laughter drifted down to her. The dining room looked spectacular,
all dressed up in its party finery.
The house looks happy,
Maggie
thought.
And I’m happy.
She wrapped her arms around herself and deeply
inhaled the crisp air, scented with lilac from nearby bushes heavy with bloom.
Cloaked in peacefulness and contentment, she headed back uphill to return to
the fray.

Before she could even get through the back door,
Maggie was bombarded with questions. She kept one eye peeled for John, surreptitiously
looking over people’s shoulders for him, as she discussed details of the
following day. She knew he had extended his office hours until seven that night
to make up for closing the clinic on Saturday to help with the carnival. Maggie
wanted to introduce him to Susan and see how they reacted to each other. Susan
had been very adult and supportive of the idea of her dating someone, but
meeting the actual man might be a different story.
Why in the world can’t
these people just figure things out for themselves
? she thought impatiently
and was immediately sorry for the thought. They were all generously supporting
her harebrained idea. Still, she kept on the move as much as possible. And
where in the world was Susan, anyway?

By the time she finally found her, Susan was holed
up in the library with none other than John Allen. They had their heads
together over Susan’s laptop. John was dictating, and Susan was pounding away
at the keyboard. Stacks of paper were neatly arranged on the hearth. They
didn’t notice Maggie until she said, “Well, here you are. I was wondering where
you’d disappeared to. Hello, John. I see you’ve met Susan.”

John winked at Maggie as Susan replied, “Yep.
We’re working on sign-up sheets for the games. And we’ve got that stash of
prizes over there that John brought,” she said, gesturing to a large box in the
corner. “We’ve made a list of which prize goes with what game. You should see
what he brought. Very cool stuff. There are art supplies, puzzles, and games.
You must have spent a fortune,” she said and tossed a smile at John.

Thank God,
Maggie thought.
She likes
him. They’re getting along famously. I couldn’t have orchestrated this any
better myself.
“When did you get here? Did you get some pizza?” she asked
John.

“I’ve been here about half an hour,” John replied.
“I brought the prizes in here, and Susan and I got busy. I’ll get something
later.”

“Don’t be silly. There might not be anything left
if you wait. I’ll go bring you a plate,” Maggie said. “You just carry on.” And
they were hard at work before she left the room.

***

Frank Haynes tallied up the week’s
income at his restaurants and was pleased with the recent upward trend in
revenue. He was on track to reach pre-Recession sales levels by the end of the
second quarter. He swiveled in his chair to check the weather outside his
window and was glad it had cleared up. He removed his Burberry trench coat from
the padded hanger on the back of his office door, laid it care-fully over his
arm, and headed to his car.

He frowned at the rain-spattered exterior of his
usually shiny black Mercedes. He’d get it washed first thing in the morning.
The interior was immaculate and the leather seat welcomed him like an embrace.
God,
it’s good to be successful,
he thought. He liked the trappings of wealth.
The only thing missing was Rosemont. Once he had that, he’d be set.

As was his custom, he drove by Rosemont before
heading home. That idiot woman had cooked up that cockamamie carnival. What a
do-gooder she was.
How much could she possibly raise? Five hundred dollars?
On a good day,
he thought.
Well ... let her have her little party.
Maybe it’d be a big flop and she’d get her feelings hurt. Or better yet, someone
would get hurt and sue her. That would surely send her sorry-ass back to
California. He chuckled and relaxed into his seat.

As he rounded a bend in the road, he was presented
with a view of Rosemont fully lit and with a steady stream of cars coming and
going. The lawn was bustling with activity. He swerved off the road and
strained his neck for a better view. This was unexpected, to be sure. She might
make a success of this thing after all. He’d have to figure out how to turn
this to his advantage. A mirthless smile spread across his lips, and he punched
the speed dial button for Forever Friends.

Within moments, he had the cell phone number of
that woman from California who had adopted the dog several weeks ago. He waited
impatiently as the phone rang and feared that he would go to voicemail when she
finally answered with a breathless “Maggie Martin.”

“Mrs. Martin. Frank Haynes here. How are you this
fine evening?”

“Fine, thank you. A bit busy—we’re setting
up for the Easter carnival here at Rosemont tomorrow. Could I return your call
on Monday?”

“That’s why I’m calling, Mrs. Martin. I’ve been
trying to find the time to call you all week,” he lied. “I want to donate door
prizes and a larger item.” He was winging it here. He always had gift
certificates for free items at his restaurants—they almost never actually
got used by the recipients—so passing them out garnered him a lot of goodwill
at minimum cost. He’d have to spend some money on something big. He considered
all of the activity on the lawn. If this carnival was a big success, he’d get
good publicity, and he’d be able to distance himself from the rest of the
council. Put himself more in the camp of that first-class bitch Tonya Holmes.
And he’d be currying favor with this Martin chick. This was getting to be a
better idea all the time.

“That would be terrific. We’ll gratefully accept
anything you want to give. It’s such a worthy cause.”

Haynes cut her off before she could continue with
all of that do-gooder nonsense. “I couldn’t agree more.” He checked his
watch—he still had time to get to the big-box electronics store before it
closed. He’d give out a bunch of coupons to his restaurants and one really
nice, pricey show-stopping gift. An iPad, if they had them in stock. “I’ll be
by in the morning to drop them off—about nine thirty. You open at ten?”

“Yes. And thank you so much. We’ll see you
tomorrow. We’re having a continental breakfast here for the workers, so come
early and join us. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Frank,” she replied
warmly.

Something about the tone of her voice when she
spoke his name touched the sliver of decency in Frank Haynes. He felt like he
did when he held a stray in his arms—like he was connected, like he belonged.
“I’m getting soft over a woman? That woman?” He cursed. He spun his car back
onto the road and headed off to procure his prizes.

Chapter 22

Maggie was startled awake the next
morning by an increasingly loud knocking on her bedroom door. She heard the
door open and Susan call, “Mom?” She launched herself out of bed as she yelled,
“Come in!”
Good Lord,
she thought,
it’s fully light out. What time
was it?
She could hear sounds from the lawn and knew that preparations were
in full swing outside.

“I can’t believe I overslept! Today of all days.
Eve usually gets me up at the crack of dawn. I didn’t think about setting my alarm.
I forgot that she wasn’t going to be here this morning.”

“Don’t rush. We’re fine. I decided to let you
sleep. You looked exhausted last night. Here’s your coffee and some fruit and a
muffin. You can have your breakfast and pull yourself together and then come
down. It’s only seven thirty. I’ll go back downstairs. I know where everything
is supposed to go. There are plenty of people to help.”

Maggie regarded her calm, competent daughter. She
was wearing skinny jeans, a gray hoodie over a white T-shirt, and had her long
shiny hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. The look was
effortless and stunning. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do just that. Once I get
downstairs, I don’t think I’ll be able to get back up here to fix my face. I
want to look presentable.”

“Mom, seriously, you always look good. Don’t worry
about that. But then I guess you’ll want to look nice for Dr. Allen,” she
teased.

Maggie decided not to engage on the issue of Dr.
John Allen and asked Susan if she wanted to come back upstairs to get ready.

“Nope,” she replied. “This is as good as it’s
going to get today.” With that, Susan smiled at her mother and shut the door on
her way out.

Maggie whipped around her bedroom like the White
Tornado from the old Ajax commercials. A compulsive bed maker, she threw it
together in a heartbeat, showered, dressed, and got made-up before her coffee
could get cold. When she hit the bottom of the stairs, it was like she was
stepping into a circus setting up in a new town. People were moving fast, with
an air of decisiveness.

The mood on the lawn was jovial, with the
exception of the silent auction area. Charlotte and Judy were in a
not-so-friendly debate over whether to set reserve prices for the donated
items.

“We’re here to raise money, not give stuff away,”
Judy grumbled. “For Pete’s sake, Charlotte, you of all people know how cheap
some of these folks can be.”

“Yes, but we want to sell this stuff, not haul any
of it back with us,” Charlotte defended herself.

“What do you think, Maggie?” they both asked as
she approached.

Oh boy,
she thought.
I don’t want to
take sides and get on the bad side of either one of these ladies.
“I’m new
here, so I’m not really sure. But I’ve always seen at least a small reserve set
when I’ve attended silent auctions,” she said tactfully.

Tim Knudsen joined them to advise that he had a
cash box with him and that he and Dottie Blankford from the Midland Bank would
be handling all of the money for the carnival. Dottie had a credit card reader
with her so people could charge things. “That should help your silent auction,”
he said. “And you ladies can sign me up for the minimum bid price on
everything. You won’t have to take anything home. My wife will probably bid on
it all anyway. Just take it easy on those minimum bid prices,” he teased. “I
don’t want to be eating cat food for the rest of the year as a result.”

“Okay, Charlotte, you see? We can set minimum bids
now,” Judy announced, turning her attention back to Charlotte. “Thank you,
Tim,” she said almost as an aside.

Tim knew when to make a quick exit. He nodded to
Maggie, said “Ladies,” and was off down the lawn. Maggie intended to follow his
lead but hesitated a bit too long and got roped into a now testy debate over
the minimum bids.

“Let’s not overcomplicate things,” she said.
“Unless something is really pricey, I think you should start everything at ten
dollars. No one will quibble about spending that for a good cause, and
everything is surely worth at least that,” she suggested reasonably.

With agreement on this issue, Maggie extricated
herself and made her way over to where Sam and John were setting up the games.
“We’re good to go,” Sam called out to her. The three of them surveyed the
hustle and bustle before them.

“The bake sale area is ready. Joan and Laura are
there, and Beth is helping Tonya get the popcorn machine started. I think we’ve
done it,” Sam said with considerable pride.

“Looks like Alex and Marc are still hiding eggs,”
Maggie observed.

“Let’s go lend them a hand,” John suggested. As
they headed across the lawn, he said, “I hoped to get a quiet moment alone with
you. I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed meeting Susan and how much fun I
had working with her last night. She’s a terrific young woman, Maggie. Smart,
articulate, funny, kind. Whoever broke her heart and let her go is a fool.”

Maggie smiled at him. She was about to reply when
Susan dropped down out of a tree not more than six feet ahead of them. Susan
let out a whoop of laughter at their startled expressions. She was dusting
herself off and straightening her hoodie as Maggie asked, “What on earth were
you doing in that tree?”

“Hiding eggs, of course, Mom,” she said with an
exaggerated eye roll. “What else would I be doing? We can’t have them all be
easy and out in the open. Some councilman just dropped off an iPad and a bunch
of fast-food coupons to hand out at the door. He seemed nice—said he’d be
back shortly. We’re using the iPad as the main prize for winning the hunt. I
wish I could play,” she added wistfully.

“An iPad?” Maggie asked. “I had no idea. Frank
Haynes called last night. Sorry—I forgot to tell you. He promised to drop
them off this morning. This is terrific! The silent auction items were good,
too. I’m going to bid on the spa day at The Mill. And baking lessons that Laura
is offering. There’s also manis and pedis and haircuts, all kinds of things.
People have been very generous.”

“So,” John said. “Where are the rest of the eggs?
It’s almost nine thirty. We need to get them hidden and be ready to open by
ten. People are lining up already,” he said, gesturing in the direction of the
entrance banner.

***

The sun was shimmering in a
brilliant blue sky by ten o’clock that Saturday morning. A light breeze kept
the temperature comfortable. The grass that had been slippery and wet at dawn
was dry and the lawn was packed. Attendance exceeded expectations. Tim sent
word that they had admitted six hundred and fifty-three people and he was
projecting a generous take on the admission donations. Most families were
dropping a twenty in the barrel; very few people were only contributing a
dollar. Frank Haynes casually tossed a fifty-dollar bill at the bucket, missed
his mark, and allowed a bystander to retrieve it for him. When the young man
exclaimed, “A fifty! We don’t want to let this one blow away!” Haynes affected
a modest tone and assured the man—and two others next to him who weren’t
listening—that it was nothing. It was the very least he could do for the
deserving workers of this fine town. One of the men caught Tim’s attention and
rolled his eyes. Tim responded with a slight shrug and smiled. If Haynes wanted
recognition, so be it. Counting Haynes’ fifty, they would collect more than
three thousand dollars at the gate.

The start of the egg hunt was delayed by half an
hour to allow everyone lined up at the entrance to get in and in place. Maggie
counted over two hundred children between the ages of two and twelve lined up
to participate. Tonya’s husband was on hand to announce the start of the hunt.
George Holmes climbed a tree stump and towered his six-foot-six-inch frame over
the crowd. He raised his right arm and announced in a booming baritone, “Ready,
set, go!” bringing his arm down with a flourish, and they were off.

The hunt was scheduled to take twenty minutes.
Most children, especially the younger ones, were happy when they had collected
two or three eggs and retired from the field. Ten minutes into the hunt, there
were only a handful of children still actively looking for eggs. By the
fifteen-minute mark, that number had dwindled to two determined children, a
rangy twelve-year-old boy who clearly had the height advantage and a diminutive
eight-year-old girl with a mop of blond curls and large glasses. When the
buzzer signaled the end, both of them had thirty-one eggs in their basket.

No one had planned for a tie. Marc proposed that
they flip a coin for the grand prize, but the girl wouldn’t hear of it. “Nope,”
she said. “Won’t work. We should have sudden death like they do in sports.”

Maggie, Marc, and Alex quickly put their heads
together. This seemed reasonable. They knew that Susan’s egg remained hidden in
the tree, so there was at least one left to find. The boy seemed to favor this
solution, too, so they turned the children loose again with the proviso that
they would flip a coin at the end of five minutes if neither of them found
another egg. Otherwise, the first to find an egg would be crowned the champion
of the First Annual Rosemont Egg Hunt, as everyone was now referring to it.

The girl spotted the bright orange plastic egg
almost immediately. She had to climb the tree to reach it, and was not, as it
turned out, a natural tree-climber. The boy sauntered over and plucked the egg
out of the tree with his naturally long arms just as she was making headway up
the branch. The gathered crowd drew in a collective breath. This seemed like
cheating, since she spotted it first. But was it really? He got there first.
While the onlookers were contemplating this moral dilemma, the boy settled the
question by dropping the egg in her basket, to the cheers of the crowd.

George was climbing back onto the tree stump to
announce the winner when Haynes stepped out of the crowd and motioned him down.
They engaged in a brief conversation and George resumed his post. “Ladies and
gentlemen, boys and girls,” he boomed. “I’ve always wanted to say that. I sound
like a circus barker, don’t I?” He smiled across the crowd. “We’ve had both a
stupendous feat of egg-finding and a moving feat of sportsmanship here today.
The winner of the First Annual Rosemont Egg Hunt, with thirty-two eggs, is Miss
Alita Firestone. Alita is in the third grade at Horton Elementary.
Alita—congratulations—come get your brand new iPad.”

Alita, suddenly shy with all eyes on her, had to
be pushed forward by her father who finally gave up and accompanied her to
retrieve her prize. Haynes, seeing an opportunity for good publicity, stepped
forward to be photographed presenting the iPad in a picture that would appear
in the Sunday paper.

“But that’s not all,” George continued. “Thanks to
our own Councilman Frank Haynes, we have a cash award for Superior
Sportsmanlike Conduct during an Egg Hunt. That award—the generous sum of
one hundred dollars—goes to Mr. Brian Gordon. Please put your hands
together for Brian,” and the crowd went wild. A surprised Brian came forward to
awkwardly shake Haynes’ hand and happily receive his cash gift. Haynes clamped
an arm around Brian’s shoulder and kept it there while he posed for another
photo.

The crowd disbursed. Haynes was talking to a
reporter as Maggie approached to thank him for his spur-of-the-moment donation
of the cash prize. She drew up behind him, waiting patiently for him to finish
his statement, and was stunned to hear him say, “Yes. We’ve all come together
to make this happen. The merchants and the new owner of Rosemont were one
hundred percent behind the council’s efforts to raise money for the pension
fund. We couldn’t have done this without their hard work. The council has
always had strong backing from the community.”

Maggie’s shock blossomed into anger
. What a
weasel. He’s taking credit for all of this!
she seethed. Haynes had that
cockroach-in-the-kitchen-when-the-light-comes-on look when he turned to find
her at his elbow. “Hello, Frank,” she said. She turned to introduce herself to
the reporter. “Maggie Martin. I’m the new owner of Rosemont. I was just coming
over to thank the councilman for his contributions this morning. We were
thrilled to get his call last night, offering to donate prizes. We weren’t
aware that the council even knew about our carnival. We’re glad that he came
out today to support us.” The reporter looked a bit confused and licked her
lips. Haynes recovered himself and turned to the photographer before she could
formulate a follow-up question.

“How about a photo of our lovely hostess and me
with Rosemont in the background?” he suggested. “I’m sure Mrs. Martin and I
both want everyone to know how pleased we are that the community has been so
generous in its support.” Maggie knew she had lost this round. The newspaper
story needed to be about the success of the carnival and not about petty
bickering between her and Haynes. When the photographer finished, Maggie leaned
in to Haynes and whispered, “We’re not done with this. You should be ashamed of
yourself for taking credit for everyone else’s hard work. They’re going to be
furious.”

“I think you’ve misunderstood, Mrs. Martin,” he
said smoothly. “Why don’t you let me buy you a cup of coffee tomorrow so we can
sort things out? We can meet at Pete’s and you can bring that nice dog of yours
with you. I like to keep track of Forever Friends alums,” he said, and Maggie’s
spine prickled unpleasantly. Was he trying to use his kindness about Eve as a
quid pro quo for taking credit for the carnival? He held his hand up to block
the sun from his eyes so she could only see the thin smile directed at her.

A group of children barreled between them and they
hastily stepped apart. Haynes dropped his hand and Maggie detected a flash of
anger in his eyes before he purposefully resumed his affable expression. “My
daughter’s in town from California this week, so I’m completely booked. Maybe
another time.”