‘em someplace warm to sleep.”
“You want to feed them and keep them warm ? That’ll just encourage them to stay!”
She spoke slowly and distinctly. “Bill. Again. We can’t make ‘em leave town. And since they’re here, I’m sure you agree we can’t let ‘em starve and freeze.”
“Who’s going to pay for all this food and shelter?”
It was an excellent question, but Hope refused to let him see her worries. “We’ll find the money somewhere.”
Hightower drew himself up to his full height, and Hope thought, oh boy, here it comes. Then, as if thinking better of whatever he was poised to say, the man exhaled slowly and seemed to shrink again. “I’m sorry. Guess I’m still a little upset about what that fella did.”
Hope nodded. “Sorry you had to kick him out, Bill. That must of been hard.”
“Ayuh.” The tall man nodded earnestly. “I hated to do it. And I’d like to help these people too, if we could. But look around, Hope. We’re barely hanging on here. We’ve got to get them out of town, not keep them here by making them more comfortable.”
“Well, I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”
The usher sighed. “I don’t want to go against you. But it seems like you’re leaving me no choice.”
With that, the tall man turned and stalked off.
Hope did her best to hide her emotions beneath a politician’s smile as she walked toward her daughter, yet her annoyance proved too strong to conceal. At the bottom of the stairs she gripped Bree’s upper arm with a bit more forcefully than necessary and, leaning close, whispered, “I told you to stop wearin’ that thing in your nose, young lady.”
Bree’s broad features revealed no emotion. She shook her arm free, spun on her heel and strode away as fast as her odd bowlegged gait would carry her.
With all the people watching, Hope could only follow.
Up ahead, she saw Dylan, still standing by her car. The man watched Bree approach and said hello to her, but the pigheaded girl went straight to the passenger side without a word. As Hope drew near, her daughter got in and slammed the door. Dylan turned and raised his eyebrows. “Somethin’ I said?”
“Naw,” said Hope. “She’s all spleeny-Jeanie ‘cause I won’t let her run around like a heathen with a bone in her nose.” Dylan chuckled, but she said, “It’s not funny. I can’t get her to do anything.”
Dylan’s huge brown eyes softened at the worry in her voice. “She’ll be okay.”
“Did you get a look at her? It’s like she wants to get back to her roots. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came home one of these days with earplugs and a spear.”
“Ayuh. I’m just glad tattoos weren’t cool when we was her age, or we’d be sportin’ a few ourselves.”
“I never was that wild.”
“Oh, I don’t know . . .” He grinned widely, his straight teeth white against his beard. “I’m rememberin’ a graduation party at O’Leary’s and a wicked little dance up on the balcony and—”
“Stop your lies, Dylan Delaney! My girl’s just right there in the car.”
“And she’s gonna be just fine, is all I’m sayin’. You turned out okay.”
“I guess.”
“You’re the mayor for crying out loud.”
Hope thought of all the empty buildings around them. “Big deal.”
“It is to me.”
She looked directly at the handsome man. “Thanks.”
Dylan held her eyes with his until she looked away. He said, “Never guess who’s been pullin’ traps for me, last couple a days.”
“Yeah? Who?”
“Jim-Jim.”
“I hope you keep a line on him.”
“That’s the thing. He’s sober.” He pronounced the word the Maine way: sobah .
“No.”
“Ayuh. Sober as a judge for at least a month.”
Hope considered his news. James Jameson had been Dublin’s town drunk for nearly thirty years. He had been tolerated, even celebrated because of his sunny personality and his penchant for causing creative trouble with the best of good
“You want to feed them and keep them warm ? That’ll just encourage them to stay!”
She spoke slowly and distinctly. “Bill. Again. We can’t make ‘em leave town. And since they’re here, I’m sure you agree we can’t let ‘em starve and freeze.”
“Who’s going to pay for all this food and shelter?”
It was an excellent question, but Hope refused to let him see her worries. “We’ll find the money somewhere.”
Hightower drew himself up to his full height, and Hope thought, oh boy, here it comes. Then, as if thinking better of whatever he was poised to say, the man exhaled slowly and seemed to shrink again. “I’m sorry. Guess I’m still a little upset about what that fella did.”
Hope nodded. “Sorry you had to kick him out, Bill. That must of been hard.”
“Ayuh.” The tall man nodded earnestly. “I hated to do it. And I’d like to help these people too, if we could. But look around, Hope. We’re barely hanging on here. We’ve got to get them out of town, not keep them here by making them more comfortable.”
“Well, I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”
The usher sighed. “I don’t want to go against you. But it seems like you’re leaving me no choice.”
With that, the tall man turned and stalked off.
Hope did her best to hide her emotions beneath a politician’s smile as she walked toward her daughter, yet her annoyance proved too strong to conceal. At the bottom of the stairs she gripped Bree’s upper arm with a bit more forcefully than necessary and, leaning close, whispered, “I told you to stop wearin’ that thing in your nose, young lady.”
Bree’s broad features revealed no emotion. She shook her arm free, spun on her heel and strode away as fast as her odd bowlegged gait would carry her.
With all the people watching, Hope could only follow.
Up ahead, she saw Dylan, still standing by her car. The man watched Bree approach and said hello to her, but the pigheaded girl went straight to the passenger side without a word. As Hope drew near, her daughter got in and slammed the door. Dylan turned and raised his eyebrows. “Somethin’ I said?”
“Naw,” said Hope. “She’s all spleeny-Jeanie ‘cause I won’t let her run around like a heathen with a bone in her nose.” Dylan chuckled, but she said, “It’s not funny. I can’t get her to do anything.”
Dylan’s huge brown eyes softened at the worry in her voice. “She’ll be okay.”
“Did you get a look at her? It’s like she wants to get back to her roots. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came home one of these days with earplugs and a spear.”
“Ayuh. I’m just glad tattoos weren’t cool when we was her age, or we’d be sportin’ a few ourselves.”
“I never was that wild.”
“Oh, I don’t know . . .” He grinned widely, his straight teeth white against his beard. “I’m rememberin’ a graduation party at O’Leary’s and a wicked little dance up on the balcony and—”
“Stop your lies, Dylan Delaney! My girl’s just right there in the car.”
“And she’s gonna be just fine, is all I’m sayin’. You turned out okay.”
“I guess.”
“You’re the mayor for crying out loud.”
Hope thought of all the empty buildings around them. “Big deal.”
“It is to me.”
She looked directly at the handsome man. “Thanks.”
Dylan held her eyes with his until she looked away. He said, “Never guess who’s been pullin’ traps for me, last couple a days.”
“Yeah? Who?”
“Jim-Jim.”
“I hope you keep a line on him.”
“That’s the thing. He’s sober.” He pronounced the word the Maine way: sobah .
“No.”
“Ayuh. Sober as a judge for at least a month.”
Hope considered his news. James Jameson had been Dublin’s town drunk for nearly thirty years. He had been tolerated, even celebrated because of his sunny personality and his penchant for causing creative trouble with the best of good
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