Love Finds You in Camelot, Tennessee (4 page)

“How’s she doing, anyway?” Amy asked.

“Oh, a little better, now that she’s nearing the end of the second trimester,” he said. “Still can’t believe the baby’s due in July. Hottest time of the year.” He snatched a cookie, bit into it, then sauntered across the room and sat next to Amy’s father, while still holding the tray.

“I can’t wait to greet that new baby,” Caroline said with a broad smile. “We need to have a shower for Natalie and that sweet baby boy.”

“She would love it,” Pastor Crane said. “She’s in that nesting stage already.” He began to talk at length about his wife’s latest attempt to scrub down every square inch of their parsonage, chuckling all the while.

At five minutes after seven, Steve interrupted the pastor’s story to call the meeting to order. Amy glanced across the room, taking in the various city council members. Of the 172 people who lived in Camelot, more than a dozen resided on the city council—mostly business people, of course. Well, all but her dad and Caroline, who had both recently retired.

Amy smiled as Blossom Dale, an over-the-top stylist from Such a Tease! salon, entered the room, her hair styled high and firmly cemented in place with spray. And glitter. Interesting look for a forty-something.

Next came Annabelle Baker, a chubby but bubbly clerk from the local Sack ’n Save grocery store. The fun-loving twenty-something was followed by Chuck Manly, the town’s only butcher. Amy had it on good authority that Annabelle and Chuck were sweet on each other, but neither appeared to be ready to admit it, at least not publicly.

Hmm.
Seemed to be an epidemic of that in Camelot. How many months had Amy secretly longed to tell Steve that her heart went into overdrive each time she saw him? And yet, she could not. Something stopped her every time. Fear, perhaps? The potential loss of their friendship?

She watched as the man who captivated her thoughts rose to greet the council members. Though she’d tried not to notice his handsomeness tonight, she could not avoid it. That gorgeous dark hair. Those amazing blue eyes. His five-o’clock shadow, beautifully placed over a perfectly sculpted jawline. Dimples that teased her every time he smiled. That great blue button-up shirt over his broad-shouldered physique. Perfectly fitted jeans.

Man. She’d never get through the evening if she didn’t focus on the reason for tonight’s meeting. Thankfully, Steve opened the meeting in prayer. Something about a handsome man lifting up his voice in prayer did her in every time. It might not be the way folks did it in other places, but here in Camelot, every meeting started with an invitation for the Lord to join them. He finished and then introduced Amy, who rose and approached the front of the room. She whispered a quick “Lord help me!” before facing her fellow townspeople to lay out her plan.

Acting is a question of absorbing other people’s personalities and adding some of your own experience.

P
AUL
N
EWMAN

Amy had no sooner opened her mouth to share her plan than a grunt at the door shifted the attention of all in attendance. She groaned inwardly as her gaze fell on her father’s best friend, Sarge Brenner.

“Woulda been here sooner, but my rheumatiz’s been givin’ me fits.” Sarge rubbed his hip joints and eased his way into a chair. “Feel like I’ve been run over with an army tank.”

This, of course, led to a story about his days serving in Vietnam. On and on he went, talking about how he’d hid out for weeks in a swamp, finally contracting a strange and exotic illness, before a young American private had happened by and come to his rescue.

Amy didn’t want to hurt Sarge’s feelings but knew she had to keep everyone focused. After getting their attention, she laid out her plan in three simple sentences. “Folks, I think it’s high time we brought in some money so that the town of Camelot can get back on its feet. We need to take advantage of our name, do something we’ve never done before.”

“We’ve tried for years to draw people in by using the Camelot name as a hook,” Pete said. “Nothing has worked. You saw what happened to Lance’s Used Car Lot. Didn’t last three months before Lance closed up shop and moved to Knoxville.”

“He’s right,” Lucy interjected. “None of our Camelot-themed businesses have succeeded. Remember that trailer park on the outskirts of town called King Arthur’s Court? It was condemned by the county years ago.”

“And the hotel,” Woody said, giving Amy a pensive look. “Your dad drew up plans for an over-the-top castle-themed hotel but never came up with the funding.”

“Hey, now,” her father interjected as he swallowed another cookie from the tray in front of Pastor Crane. “That hotel was a great idea.”

“I always thought it was a lovely plan,” Caroline added.

“Yes, I remember.” Amy shook her head, remembering her father’s grand scheme for Excalibur Inn. “But this is different, I promise.”

Gwen smirked. “The only Camelot-themed business that’s ever really worked is my dog-grooming business. Guinevere’s Grooming is doing well, thank you very much.” She looked down her nose at Lucy, who shrugged.

“Yes. Still, what I’m proposing is altogether different,” Amy explained. “I’m not talking about naming a business after anything in the legend of King Arthur. I think it’s time we link arms and perform the musical
Camelot.”

“Camelot,
did you say?” Her father grinned. “Marvelous idea!”

“Oh, I love musicals,” Caroline added. “Always have.”

Annabelle clasped her hands together. “What a great idea!”

“I think I’d like to audition,” Lucy said. “I did a little acting back in high school.”

“I’d make a mighty fine King Or-a-thur,” Grady Knowles drawled. “My wife—God rest her soul—always called me the king o’ the castle.” He snorted then took a sip from his coffee cup. “Get it? King o’ the castle?”

A nervous chuckle went up from the crowd. Surely everyone knew that the slow-drawlin’ owner of their local hardware store could never fill the role of the famed king. Not that Amy could really peg any of Camelot’s men for the King Arthur role.
Hmm.

“Where did this idea come from, anyway?” Gwen asked. “Seems a little far-fetched.”

“Dad and I took a little trip to Pigeon Forge last month to see some of the shows,” Amy explained. “They were wonderful, but once I saw how many people they brought in, the idea took hold. After praying about it, I realized that
we
could bring in folks too.”

Her father piped up. “Lotta great country singers in Pigeon Forge. And we went to Dolly’s place too. Even rode the roller coaster.”

“Yes, we did.” Amy nodded. “The town is a mecca for tourists. I think Camelot can be too, if we play our cards right.”

“I can’t imagine we would ever be as popular as Pigeon Forge,” Lucy said. “I just love it there. There’s a wonderful outlet mall on the highway leading to Gatlinburg. Why, that’s where I got this shirt.” She turned once again to face Amy’s father, whose gaze darted to the trees outside the window.

“Oh, speaking of malls, did you see my new outfit?” Annabelle stood and showed off her snug jeans and frilly blouse. “I bought it in Knoxville last week when I went to my Jenny Craig meeting.”

“Jenny Craig?” Caroline piped up. “I knew it! You’ve lost weight, haven’t you, Annabelle?”

“You noticed?” Annabelle released a giggle as she tossed her dark-brown curls. “Well, as a matter of fact, I have. Two and a half pounds. Only fifty-seven and a half more to go before I reach my goal.”

Amy groaned inwardly. How had they transitioned from musicals to weight loss? She cleared her throat. “Attention, everyone.” When they finally stilled, she tried again. “Here’s my point. People pay good money to see those shows. Everyone loves to be entertained.”

“I know I do.” Blossom nodded. “I can’t wait till Tuesday nights to watch
American Idol
on TV. I just love it. It’s so entertaining, especially when they have all those big-name stars come on to encourage the kids. I’d pay money to see that. In person, I mean. I can watch it on TV for free, of course. Well, not really free, I guess. I do have to pay for the cable service.” She giggled.

“American Idol?”
Pete asked. “Whatever happened to the great television shows of the past?
Dragnet? Mission Impossible?
Now
those
were entertaining.” He and Annabelle began to debate at length and ended up in an argument.

“If we’re talking true entertainment, there’s nothing like a great book.” Amy’s father rose, cleared his throat, and began to share a story from King Arthur’s legend, his favorite story of all. The story started with the part where Arthur met Guinevere for the first time and ended with their eventual marriage by candlelight.

“Yes, that’s a great story,” Amy said. “Very entertaining. My point is, if we’re strategic, we can compete with all those great shows over in Pigeon Forge. We just have to capitalize on our name. Oh, and we’ll need to build a theater of some sort. I suggest we put it behind the Civic Center, which we can use for our rehearsals. And I’m not talking about building anything elaborate. Maybe an amphitheater type of setup, carved into the terrain with the Civic Center directly behind it. The area is on a hill, so it will work perfectly. And the view is out of this world.” She paused to get a feel for the crowd. No one responded. “I know I’m asking for a lot here, but if we build it, they will come.”

“Field of Dreams,”
Pastor Crane interjected as he reached for another cookie. “James Earl Jones gave the performance of a lifetime, don’t you think?”

“I love his speaking voice,” Eula Mae threw in.

“And wasn’t Kevin Costner the cat’s meow?” Gwen sighed. “I’ve always thought he was sinfully handsome in that role.”

You’ve always thought every man was handsome.
Amy forced a smile. “I’m just saying that we’ll build a theater where we can do shows all weekend long. A show on Friday night, two shows on Saturday, and a Sunday matinee after church.”

“I cain’t work on Sun–deez,” Grady drawled. “Against my ree–ligion.”

Pastor Crane snorted. “You don’t even go to church, Grady. What’s the difference?”

“Church is against my ree–ligion too. Too much bickerin’ goes on in them-there churches.”

“Hey, speaking of religion, did you see that new cable channel with the great gospel sing-alongs?” Eula Mae asked. “I just love those old songs. They take me back to my childhood days.” She began to hum “When the Roll Is Called up Yonder.”

“What about that old hymn we sang last Sunday?” Pastor Crane added. “’Trust and Obey.’ I thought I did a pretty good job of working it into my sermon.”

Annabelle sighed. “I don’t mind saying, your message on temptation really convicted me that I need to stick to my diet.”

“Speaking of temptation, I’m reminded of a story from the war, during ’69,” Sarge said. “It was me and my guys, over in Vietnam.” Off he went, into another lengthy story.

Amy did her best not to sigh as the minutes ticked by on the clock. As always, she’d lost control of the meeting. Nothing new there, only this time she’d had an agenda. A real one. She cleared her throat, hoping Sarge would take the hint. He did not. His story continued until Eula Mae—God bless her—steered the ship back on course.

“I do like the idea of the play,” the elderly woman said, as she circled the room to refill coffee cups. “And I see the potential for making money, if it’s handled right.”

“I just have one question,” Gwen said. “Who’s gonna direct this shindig?”

Amy’s gaze shifted to Woody Donaldson. She cleared her throat. At this point, the others looked his way as well.

Woody seemed perplexed by the attention. “Eh?”

“Turn up your hearing aid, Woody,” Eula Mae raised her voice. “They want you to direct this play.”

“Correct display?” He looked confused. “Don’t have a clue what that means.”

“No.” Amy exaggerated her next words. “Direct. The. Play. We want you to direct the play.” She sat next to him. “You’re really the only one with any know-how, Woody.”

“Well, shoot,” he drawled. “I was countin’ on playin’ Merlin.”

Steve drew near and slapped him on the back. “Make you a deal. If you agree to direct, you can play any role you like.”

“Really?” Woody’s eyes lit up. “Well, I’ll pray about that. Might just take you up on it.”

“I’m no actress,” Amy added, growing more excited by the minute, “but I’d love to help you direct.”

“If you think you could work with her, Woody.” Pete laughed. “She’ll keep you on your toes with all those ideas of hers.”

“Hey, now.” Amy quirked a brow.

“Ideas are good things. It’s the ‘idea people’ we need to be listening to. They spur us on to do great things.” Pastor Crane lit into a story about how his father had come up with the idea to open the funeral home back in the ’70s, which led Pete to a discussion about what life was like during the decade that birthed disco, which led Annabelle to share that she hadn’t even been born in the ’70s, which somehow led Amy’s father to telling a story about how the passage of time had no bearing in the legendary land of Camelot. Thankfully, he’d led them right back to the matter at hand.