I settled back in my chair as he pulled out the one next to me for himself. Coop was already at the refrigerator, getting his dad’s favorite drink, a Sprecher Root Beer.
“Seems like they always are with you, young lady. How’s that book coming? Last time I saw you, you said you were almost finished.”
“You sound like Clinton.”
Clinton Barnes is my agent, my cheerleader, and my taskmaster. He took a chance on me when no one else would, and that’s something I won’t forget.
“I’m working on it, but it’s not quite there yet. I’ve been filling in here and there at the paper, because we’re short-handed. Maggie McConnell is off for a few weeks.”
“I heard that. She’s quite a gal. We got in a serious conversation down at the Elite Café a few weeks ago. She’s got some strong opinions. I like that. I got the impression she wasn’t one for sitting still.”
“Go with that. She was barely out of the recovery room before she was trying to convince the doctor that she could come into the office in a couple of days. Every time I drop in to see if she needs anything, she starts grilling me about what’s going on at work. It’s killing her not to be in the middle of everything.”
“Huh. Sounds a little like someone else I know,” Dan said, looking over at Coop for a corroborating smile.
“Oh, quit it, you guys. I can back off, I can delegate, I don’t need to control everything,” I said, listing three of my besetting sins before they did. “At the moment, I’m needed. There’s only Miguel and a few stringers to carry the load. And Troy.”
Dan didn’t miss the after-thought quality of my Troy mention.
“Doesn’t sound like you have much faith in Troy. He seems like a nice young fella. He did a good job on the candidate interview with Coop,” Dan said.
“Yes, he did. It’s not that I don’t have faith in him, exactly. He wants to do a good job, I know. He’s just pretty inexperienced. Sometimes he hangs back when he shouldn’t. I’m worried he’s going to miss something that really matters. Miguel says I scare him,” I added in the spirit of full disclosure.
To his credit, Coop didn’t say anything. But I could see it was taking a lot for him not to.
“Oh, now, I doubt that,” Dan said. “It’s probably more that he doesn’t have the confidence he needs yet. Troy might be a little starstruck, and that makes him nervous. After all, you’ve got those two books behind you, and those awards you won before you came back to Himmel. I’m pretty proud to say I knew you when.”
Dan has the gift of making people feel good about themselves, because it’s so obvious that he feels good about them. But if I’m not great at giving compliments—and I’m definitely not—I’m even worse at receiving them.
“Thanks, but, uh, it’s not as great as you make it sound. I’m a one-book wonder unless my second book takes off after republishing it. Right now I’m just putting one finger in front of the other on the keyboard and hoping I can pull off the draft for the third.”
He laughed, but he was shaking his head. “You need to have as much faith in yourself as I do, isn’t that right, Coop?”
“Absolutely.”
“Having faith in people is your specialty, Dan. What else explains those harrowing hours you spent trying to teach me how to drive a stick shift without grinding the gears? My own mother gave up in despair. And you never yelled at me once. Unlike my mother. And your son.”
“I was okay, until you tried to downshift to first at forty miles an hour,” Coop said.
“True story,” I said.
“Well there it is, then, Leah. You give Troy some room to maneuver, let him relax, and you just might be surprised.”
“All right, I surrender, Dan. I’ll try to channel you and try harder with Troy.” I changed the subject then.
“Coop said you were trying to wrestle an endorsement out of Lester Dillingham tonight. How’d you do?”
“Couldn’t get Lester to commit. After all, Art was his deputy. I think he figures it says enough that he’s not endorsing him,” Dan said. “But that’s all right because I picked up a nice—a very nice—contribution to the campaign tonight. It’s going to give a boost to our last few weeks.”
“Yeah? From who, Dad?”
“Kent Morgan. He donated the maximum and so did his wife. Art Lamey’s been flooding social media and TV with ads. Now we can get some traction there, too. And I want to see a lot more yard signs around the county. Art’s only in the lead because he’s got name recognition. And we’re not that far behind.”
“That’s what I told Coop,” I said. “Kent Morgan. Why is that name so familiar?”
“He’s a pretty big deal in Omico. Has a financial services company, calls the football games on the radio for the high school, owns a lot of real estate. He was the Omico Citizen of the Year last year. And he’s a nice guy. Real nice guy.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah, that’s right. I met him once when Miller and I were having dinner. They’re on the hospital board or something like that together. That’s great, Dan. Nicely done.”
“Yes, thanks, Dad. That will help a lot.”
“That’s what I came down for, son. To help the best man get elected sheriff, and that’s you.”
4
“Smells great, Mom. What’s the menu for Paul’s birthday dinner?” I asked as I walked through my mother’s kitchen door on Saturday night, carrying the cake I’d picked up for the celebration.
“Paul asked for Cranberry Crockpot Roast, redskin mashed potatoes, and oven-roasted green beans. It doesn’t get much easier than that. One of the many reasons I keep him around,” she said.
It doesn’t sound that appetizing when you list the ingredients—dry onion soup mix, a can of jellied cranberry sauce, and a chuck roast, but after eight hours on low in a crockpot, the results are surprisingly good, and perfect for a cold October evening.
Paul Karr is our family dentist, my mother’s long-time companion, and, unfortunately, the father of my nemesis, Spencer Karr, owner/publisher of GO News.
“You look nice,” I said.
She was standing at the sink in her white and navy kitchen, the sleeves of the red sweater dress she wore pushed up to her elbows. My mother is small but fierce, with spiky black and silver hair, midnight blue eyes that can kill you—or comfort you—and a body kept at fighting weight through mostly daily runs.
“Thank you. I got the dress on sale at Nordstrom Rack in Milwaukee yesterday, half-off!” Her eyes were alight with triumph as she turned toward me to show it off. Shopping bargains are to my mother as scooping Spencer Karr is to me.
Her gaze took in the black leggings, ankle boots, and green tunic I was wearing. “Is that top new? I like it.”
“I’ll pass that on to Miguel. He picked it out for me. It’s pretty sweet having the two of you as my personal shoppers. Though Miguel does sometimes go a little too fashion-forward for my comfort level.”
“Leah, get real. Anything outside of jeans and hoodies pushes your comfort level. Without me and Miguel, you’d dress like an adolescent gamer all of the time, instead of just most of the time.”