4. Chapter 4 #2
“Hooker heels?” I repeated. “That's hilarious. How did they know I was the Community Ambassador?”
“Thompson walked through the community center and they interrogated him. See, on any given day, Edith, Helen, and Fern help at the community center front desk.”
“I don't know that I would call them helpers,” Ruthie pointed out. “More like sitters. They sit, watch people, and report back.”
“True. However, they will hand you a towel or a Kleenex if you ask nicely. But yes, for the most part they’re there to sit.”
I took another drink.
“Goodness, I had no idea I would already be the center of the senior gossip.”
“Don't worry about it. Everyone is at one time or another,” Jo said. “But maybe leave the heels at home. Nobody around here wears them on a regular basis. Especially pink ones.”
“Jo's right,” Ruthie said. “This is a practical town.”
“Noted. I don't really like them anyway. I was just trying to make an impression on my first day.” I laughed. “Guess I accomplished that, didn't I?”
All three of us laughed.
“I'm going to have to meet those three,” I said when I'd stopped laughing.
“Before you do, know they’re a full-time intelligence operation,” Ruthie confirmed.
“We love them. But do not tell them anything you don't want repeated.
Because, girl, they will not only repeat it, but it will be bigger than you ever imagined because the three of them will have forgotten half of it by the time they head to the center for lunch.
So, they'll just make up whatever they've forgotten.”
We cleared the plates and moved to the backyard, where they had a lovely patio with comfortable furniture. I passed on more wine, opting for water instead since I was driving.
“So, tell us, what exactly does a Community Ambassador do?” Ruthie asked.
“From what I get, it’s events mainly. The mayor wants more community engagement, more involvement. He wants events that sparkle,” I explained. “He thinks events make people happy and if they’re happy, then they smile more.”
“Sounds like him,” Ruthie said. “It will be fun to have more activities.”
“The only thing is, he wants the first event to be in June.”
Silence.
Ruthie and Jo looked at each other with shocked expressions.
“Next June?” Ruthie said.
“This June.”
“As in the June that starts—”
“Yep, that June.” I smiled in the way you smile when something is both funny and mildly terrifying. “And,” I sighed, “he mentioned maybe making Safety Week bigger. He suggested that I add to it.”
Another look between the two of them. Longer this time.
“Well,” Jo started, “it's not a bad idea. We've been trying to bring new things in for years, to make it something that would really draw people. We have ideas all the time.”
“But? I can hear the but coming.” I leaned forward, ready for what she was going to say.
“But the chief won't have it.” She set her glass down. “His position for everything is, if it's not broken, don't fix it. And he's not moving off it.”
“He's a bit of a traditionalist,” Ruthie offered.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Jo looked at Ruthie.
Ruthie looked at me. “Like a rotary phone and floppy disks traditionalist,” she said pleasantly.
“Don't get me wrong,” Jo said, and I could hear her sincerity. “I love my chief. He’s fair and a good boss. We have the newest equipment and are up to date on every protocol. But in every other way—”
“Stick in the mud,” Ruthie finished.
I thought about the wall of Safety Week photos. Eleven years of them. Little fingerprints and kids in plastic helmets and Thompson’s wife appeared in multiple pictures surrounded by the littlest kids. The pictures stayed the same. The only thing that changed were the faces of the kids.
“What if,” Ruthie said, “it wasn’t anything to do with Safety Week?”
“What do you mean?” Jo asked.
“What if the event coincided with Safety Week? Like at the end of it, sort of an ending event.”
Jo and I both sat back in our chairs.
“That's got possibilities,” I said, thinking about what sort of event would work.
“What though? It’ll have to be a good one to sell him on the idea,” Jo asked, and we all went silent, thinking.
Finally, Ruthie spoke up.
“I guess that's for Brandy to figure out. Maybe you can do some online research and see what other communities do in June that would fit with a kids' Safety Week.”
“On that note, I'm going to head home. I've got some work to do.” I stood, stretched, and yawned. “Or maybe it will wait till tomorrow.”
Everyone laughed.
I took my glass in and put it in the sink, then picked up my purse, and Jo and I made our way to the front door.
“Wait.” Ruthie came from the kitchen with a bag that she handed me.
“What?” I started.
“Leftovers. I put them together when we were cleaning up,” Ruthie said and handed them to me. “There is only so much takeout a person can eat when they first move in.”
I looked at Jo.
Jo raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms.
I reached into my purse and pulled out a five-dollar bill and handed it to her.
Jo took it without a word and tucked it in her pocket.
“What's that for?” Ruthie asked.
“I won,” Jo said.
Ruthie looked between us and shook her head. “Did you bet on me again?”
Jo leaned over and kissed her wife’s cheek. “I did.”
“Then give me the money. I earned it for you, so that makes it mine.”
Jo made a face. “How do you figure?”
“We’re married, right? What’s mine is yours? So what’s yours is mine.”
Ruthie put her hand out, palm up.
Jo rolled her eyes and placed the money in Ruthie’s hand.
I hugged them both at the door and walked to my car in the warm evening with a bag of leftovers and the comfortable weight of people I already knew were going to be very important to me.
A new town, a new job. And now new friends. I'd definitely made the right move. And tomorrow I was going to figure out what kind of event would work with the fire department's Safety Week and then make the stick in the mud think it's the best idea ever.