“Adele, see what Mercy just done?” Ivan leaned over her shoulder. “She’s bringing good ideas. You’re just knitting and clicking.”
“Insults come from the small and insecure. Keep it up, Ivan, and I’ll carry you home in my pocket.”
Caleb laughed. He couldn’t help it. Adele had Ivan’s number. “Mercy,” he said, “you should be leading this project. Let’s talk later. Emery, a story in theGazetteabout setting a business here might spark some ideas.”
“Done,” she said. “Mercy, can you stop by the paper tomorrow? I’ll help write up ads for theTallahassee Democratand thePensacola News Journal. What about theMontgomery Advertiser?”
“Go for it,” Caleb said. “Simon will pay.”
“It’d still be nice to have something really big to draw attention to the East End,” Duke said. “No offense, Mercy, and all of us to what we’re doing, but I feel like we’re trying to put out a roaring fire with a garden hose. What we’re battling is the energy and momentum of the West End leaders.”
Duke dropped a weight of truth into the proceedings. Caleb thought to balance it with some levity, but he had nothing.
Then Adele spoke up. “You know our town lore,” she said, setting her knitting in her lap. “If you lookreallyclose, you might see Immanuel walking among the streetlamps, between the shops and houses, among us. Now I ask you, ladies and gentlemen,whatis bigger than God? Let the West End bring their roaring fire. We’ll see what God can do.”
“You want to invite God to our town,” Ivan said with a sneer. “That’s your plan?”
“No, goofball, He’s already here. Caleb, does Ivan have to be on this committee?”
“Now, now, Adele, what would Immanuel say?” Ivan said.
“Oh, great day in the morning, now he’s turning all religious on me. Have you no shame?” Adele had taken up her knitting again. “What about a street party to start things off?”
“We’d need the shops to cooperate,” Emery said. “But I think they will. Should we meet with them? Set a date?”
Duke promised to keep working on his West End colleagues. Caleb gave an update on Alderman’s and offered hope from Jenny Finch.
“She’s interested in the Org. Homestead. Maybe if she invests, we could finish one or two of the houses to show everyone the possibilities.”
“Sis-boom-bah, let’s eat some cake.” Ivan limped toward the desserts. “Mercy, did you bring your double chocolate delight?”
Caleb had just taken a bite of cake when the museum door opened. Mac Diamond walked in, bold as you please. “Sorry I’m late.” He tossed his smarmy smile about the room, shook hands with Duke, and praised the food table.
“We don’t need your kind here,” Ivan said around a mouthful of double chocolate.
“My kind? I’m a loyal Sea Bluean, here to join this Main Street initiative.”
“I thought you wanted this side of town bulldozed,” Caleb said. “Or do you prefer to break away, make the West End its own municipality?”
“I’ve had a change of heart. Miss Adele, is this your chicken casserole?”
“Help yourself. It’s one of my best recipes.”
Mac helped himself all right—to the food, to the people in the room. He sat next to Mercy and started talking about revenue sources for the East End.
“I’ve had everyday folks like yourselves invest in my golf courses and let me tell you, the return is quite generous. Within two years of completion.”
Adele and Mercy leaned toward him with wide eyes. Even Ivan stopped pacing, and chewing, to listen.
“Mac don’t bring your propaganda in here,” Caleb said. “We’re talking about revitalization of the East End. You got any ideas?”
“A nine-hole golf course would do wonders.” The man was a broken record. “Caleb, I got my eye on you for the clubhouse.”
Caleb steeled himself from being Mr. Pottered. But what a sweet gig for his résumé.
“We’re restoring those houses,” Caleb blurted, in defense of the Org. Homestead. In defense of himself. “So find another place for your golf course and clubhouse.”
For the next forty minutes, he tried to adjourn the meeting, but Mac charmed the room with his stories and supersized laughter. When Caleb finally shut off the lights and locked the museum door, even Emery spent a few minutes talking with Mac, saying good night.
