The Room with the Second-Best View (13 page)

“Frieda was just explaining the Main Street Program.” He rested his clasped hands on the blotter in front of him. “It certainly sounds like something the town should pursue.”

Millie turned her head to give Frieda an undisguised look of inquiry.

The owner of the Freckled Frog failed to meet her eye. “You told me you were meeting with the mayor this morning, so I thought I'd stop in before I open my shop and assure him of my support, both as a business owner and as the chair of the celebration committee.”

“Good thinking.” Lulu gave a nod.

Studying Frieda through narrowed eyes, Millie decided there was more to this visit than she was letting on. The woman fiddled with the straps of the handbag resting in her lap, a nervous gesture that Millie had never seen the outspoken shop owner exhibit.

Turning her attention to Jerry, she smiled. “Since you've already been brought up-to-date on the purpose of the program, we won't need to explain it.”

“But here's some stuff for you to look at.” Lulu whipped a stack of papers from her briefcase and plopped them on the desk. “We got it off the website.”

“Have you begun putting the application together yet?” Frieda asked.

“You betcha.” Lulu patted the case. “We're heading over to Frankfort when we leave here so we can take a gander at other towns' applications.”

“The Kentucky Heritage Council has them all on file,” Millie added.

“We're nailing this thing down,” Lulu said with confidence. “Gonna have everything ready to go before the next city council meeting.” She looked at the mayor. “That way you can approve it quick-like, and we can get it filed. Soon as that's done, I'll start putting together a bid for some of that grant money.” A satisfied smile on her wide lips, she sat back in her chair.

The mayor looked up from his perusal of the documents, eyebrows arched high. “You're planning on putting together the bid for the grant?” He slid a confused glance toward Frieda. “But I thought the Main Street Manager would undertake that task.”

An uncomfortable tickle erupted in Millie's stomach. With a sideways look at Frieda, she said, “Lulu
is
the Main Street Manager. Or at least, she will be when our application is approved.”

Now Frieda fidgeted openly. “Well, that's something I'm planning to bring up next Thursday at our meeting. The way I understood it, the city council is supposed to select the Main Street Manager.”

“We talked about that,” Lulu said, her confusion apparent. “You said you didn't want the job, and so did everybody else. I said I'd like to do it, and you said okay.”

Frieda flashed an apologetic glance at Lulu before returning to her examination of her purse. “Perhaps we weren't clear in our expectations of the role we assigned to you. What we needed was someone who would pull together our application. We didn't necessarily mean that person would also manage the town's Main Street Program. After all, there might be someone else who would also be interested.”

The situation bloomed with full clarity in Millie's mind. Cheryl Lawson, who'd made no secret of her disapproval of Lulu, had left the Day Spa on Saturday, marched directly across the street to the Freckled Frog, and poisoned Frieda against her.

Lulu shook her head. “That's not what you said on Thursday. You said—”

Frieda held up a hand. “I'm aware of Thursday's discussion. I was there. What I'm saying now is perhaps we need to rethink the decision. Perhaps we should consider someone”—she cleared her throat—“more suitable to the management job.”

The itch erupted into simmering anger. Millie straightened her spine, barely noticing the discomfort that movement caused, and twisted to face Frieda directly. “More suitable in what way?”

At least this time Frieda met her eye. “Experience. Relationships with the town's business owners. An in-depth knowledge of Goose Creek's history.”

Why, she was parroting Millie's own words to Cheryl and using them against her!

In a tone so meek Millie almost didn't recognize the speaker, Lulu said, “That's a good point.”

Millie whirled on her—another ill-advised movement—and found Lulu staring dejectedly at her hands, folded and resting in her lap. Her thin shoulders drooped. A protective wave, so fierce it surprised Millie, welled up inside her.

Before she could come up with a suitable reply, Jerry gave a little cough. They directed their attention to him.

“Seems to me that part of the report to the council should be a recommendation for the person who will become the Main Street Manager. I'll let you ladies work out that recommendation among you.”

He placed his palms on the desk and pushed himself to a standing position, a clear dismissal. Teeth clamped together, and not just against the pain of rising, Millie followed suit. Jerry came around the desk and, with a hand resting lightly on Frieda's back, led them to the door.

“I understand you're working under time constraints, so if we need to call a special council session to approve your application, we will.” He shook their hands in turn. “I look forward to reading your report.”

When they all stood beside Sally's desk, the mayor's door closed with a soft
snick
behind them.

Millie rounded on Frieda. “That was inexcusable.”

The shop owner had the grace to look embarrassed. But then she raised her chin and spoke in a determined manner. “The more I thought about it, I realized the Main Street Program isn't a matter for the celebration committee alone. We hope to get some of the grant money, of course, but it's a commitment that will last long after Goose Creek's century-and-a-half anniversary. Our committee overstepped our authority by what amounts to hiring a city employee.”

“A
volunteer.
”

She waved a hand. “Whatever. The role of the Main Street Manager is an issue that needs wider input.”

Millie planted her feet. “Input from who? Your friend Cheryl, perhaps?”

Frieda's gaze dropped, and Millie had the satisfaction of seeing a flush rise on her cheeks. Then she stepped around Millie and approached Lulu.

“Please don't take this personally.” She clasped Lulu's hand in both of hers. “I can't tell you how much I appreciate your spearheading the application process. And you never know. Maybe it will be decided that you
are
the best candidate for the Main Street Manager after all.”

If she weren't trying so hard to control her temper, Millie would have given a derisive laugh. She didn't believe Frieda's sincerity for a second. She and Cheryl were longtime friends, and Lulu an awkward outsider. No, they would come up with someone else to recommend for the job.

Lulu appeared to take the comment at face value. “Thank you for saying that.”

Without another glance at Millie, Frieda left the room. Bypassing the elevator, she disappeared behind the heavy doors leading to the stairway.

Seated at her desk, Sally watched her go and then turned toward them, one eyebrow cocked. “Sounds like that was an interesting meeting.”

A clear bid for information, which Millie was not prepared to supply. No doubt the mayor would fill her in after they'd gone.

“Come on, Lulu.” She looped her good arm through Lulu's gangly one and steered her toward the elevator. “We'll talk about this on the way to Frankfort.”

Uncharacteristically subdued, Lulu allowed Millie to lead her away.

Chapter Nine

T
he first Saturday in May dawned bright and clear, exactly the kind of day a Kentuckian would want for Derby Day. Though not a racing enthusiast herself, Millie had decided several months ago to gather a few friends for a traditional Derby party. Her unfortunate incident notwithstanding, she'd been anticipating the opportunity to host her first official party in their new home since the house was beginning to resemble the grand place she envisioned it would one day be. Though her wrist had become a fascinating display of purple and yellow hues, in the past week she'd managed to become quite adept at one-handed activities and was able to mostly ignore the nighttime throbbing that resulted from overuse.

At least now she was able to sit in a proper chair and, as long as she positioned herself carefully, experienced only mild discomfort in her nether region.

Violet arrived for the party at one o'clock bearing her contributions to the menu.

“Country ham and beaten biscuits,” she announced as she set a loaded tray of the traditional Derby fare on the dining room table. “My electric knife conked out on me, so I've taken a beating myself, slicing all that ham by hand.”

“I'm sure everyone will appreciate your efforts.” Millie stepped back and inspected her friend's hat. “Goodness, that's…quite colorful.”

“Isn't it?” Violet preened and raised a hand to brush one of the orange feathers arranged on the wide, floppy rim. “Amazing what you can do with a trip to the dollar store and a hot glue gun.”

Millie felt it best to confine her comments to a nod and an agreeable, “Amazing.”

She'd selected a simple cloche hat with a satin band and a subdued bow. Gazing at Violet's elaborate creation, she felt satisfied with her choice.

“Did you see the price of the blue one down at the Frog?” Violet shook her head,
tsk
ing. “Three hundred dollars for a felt hat and a bit of fancy frippery. Safe to say she'll have that one in the store for a while.”

At the mention of the Freckled Frog, Millie's lips tightened of their own accord, and she busied herself adjusting the placement of the linen napkins beside the stack of china plates. “Can't say I have.”

Violet planted her hands on her hips. “I wish you two would get over this silly disagreement.”

“It isn't silly.” Millie battled a flash of resentment. Violet, her dearest friend for more than thirty years, had refused to side with her over the issue of the Main Street Manager. “I can't abide the unfairness of her expecting Lulu to do all the work involved in getting the program approved and then hand it over to someone else to run.”

A sulky expression settled on Violet's face. “All I ever hear from you is Lulu this and Lulu that. It almost sounds like you're fond of her, when I know you think she's as nutty as a fruitcake, like the rest of us do.”

The rest of us.
Millie delayed replying by rearranging one of the roses in the huge crystal vase in the center of the table. She'd never intended for a line to be drawn and sides taken. Now that they had, it stung to find herself in opposition to her best friend.

And though Lulu was not nutty, she definitely was annoying. Over the past week Millie had been tied to her side as they traveled all across Kentucky, visiting towns that had adopted the Main Street Program. They'd met with five different Main Street Managers, and more than once she'd found herself blushing at her new friend's thoughtless comments. She'd offended the manager of Carrollton with a disparaging word about their sidewalk repairs, and Millie would never dare to show her face in Covington again after the derogatory remarks about the statues along their Riverwalk.

Still, friendship had blossomed during those long drives in Lulu's car. Barriers had fallen, and confidences were shared. What had begun in Millie as compassion for an awkward woman who'd asked for her help had grown into genuine affection. Lulu meant well, she really did. Millie had discovered that her heart was as big as her mouth, and not nearly as bumbling.

The flower display finally arranged to her satisfaction, Millie turned to face Violet. “I am fond of her. It's true she's a bit overbearing, but she means well.”

Violet's flaring nostrils spoke her disagreement louder than words. Had the doorbell not rung at that moment, they might have had words. Instead, Millie bustled from the room, feeling guilty to be relieved to escape.

The door opened as she entered the hall.

“Happy Derby Day!” Justin shouted as he stepped aside to allow Susan to enter ahead of him.

“And to you.” Millie banished the lingering unpleasantness and stepped forward to kiss his cheek. “I miss you. The house feels empty without you.”