Chapter 4 Sebastian #3
“Yep. And a live broadcast from here on Friday.”
Jo threw her hands up in the air. “Can someone please tell me what in tarnation you’re talking about? I neglected to bring my secret message decoder ring with me today.”
Doc gestured for Sebastian to go ahead.
“ Sunup wants to film her here... on location in her hometown. I’m sure they’re desperate for her to get back in America’s good
graces, so if they show her being charming and delightful and contrite—”
“And forgiven,” Doc added.
Sebastian pointed at him. “Yes. Forgiven. That’s what it’s all about.”
Jo nodded. “I see. If we can forgive her, she must not be so bad after all.”
“Exactly.” Doc cleared his throat and started spinning his wedding band again. “So it’s up to us. No one in town outside of
this room knows that this is on the table. The Sunup people can’t take over the town and film here without our permission. So we need to decide.”
“I vote no,” Bill blurted and then smoothed out his crumpled paper and began reading again.
“Don’t check out yet, Bill,” Jo said. “Robert’s Rules of Order still have to mean something around this place, and we don’t
have a motion yet.”
“Fine. I make a motion that the answer is no.”
Jo sighed and laced her fingers behind her head. “Look, Doc, can I be honest?”
Doc grinned. “Josephine Stoddard, in more than sixty years, I’ve never known you to be anything but.”
She lowered her hands to the table and picked up her pen. “She’s already humiliated us in name, from afar. I’d just as soon
not be humiliated on camera, in person.”
Doc nodded. “That’s fair. Any other thoughts?”
Bill picked up his newspaper again and began folding it. “Seems like a no-brainer to me.”
“Yeah, I agree with Bill.” Jo tapped the tip of her pen against the table, lightly but with a regular tempo. “I was hurt when
she left. You know, just like everyone else. But that hasn’t stopped me from cheering her on as she became a big star. I was...”
She trailed off.
Doc reached over and patted her hand on the table. “You were proud of her. I think we all were.”
Jo cleared her throat sharply. “But that’s that. She made it clear how she feels about us. I don’t wish her any ill will,
but I don’t think we owe her anything either. I feel like we gave her plenty in the first seventeen years of her life.”
After one final pat, Doc pulled his hand back and sat up straighter. “Okay, so I think we’re all in agreement. Jo, call for
the motion, and I’ll let this Passik guy know. Then we can get back to the business at hand.”
“Township Days!” Jo practically squealed. “I was talking to Lucinda Morissey, and she’s pretty sure she has her great-grandma’s
recipe for apple tansey.” She turned to Sebastian. “I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of apple tansey, but it’s—”
“Yeah, I’ve had it,” Seb interjected. He refrained from adding that he’d eaten apple tansey as a kid, with his mom and brothers,
visiting Colonial Williamsburg. Where apple tansey made sense.
“Well, anyway, like Doc said, let’s wrap up all this Brynn Cornell unpleasantness first. Can I get a motion that Adelaide
Springs will not allow a crew from Sunup to film here next week?”
“So moved,” Bill stated.
“I’ll second it,” Jo said as she scribbled in the minutes. “All in favor?”
Silence.
Jo’s eyes darted between Sebastian and Doc. “Did I miss you guys saying ‘aye’ while I was writing?”
Sebastian looked at Doc, who was looking right back at him. “What is it?” the older man asked.
“I’m just not sure...”
Bill threw his paper on the table and then threw his body back into the chair. “He always does this!”
“I always do what ?”
“You just have to vote different. Push back. No matter what we want to do, you go the other way.”
“That’s not true, Bill,” Jo defended. “Seb just represents a different generation. A more worldly view.” She looked at Sebastian
and smiled, but the smile faded quickly. “Having said that, since you don’t know her, and none of this really affects you
at all, I’d think you might want to go with us on this one.”
“I know.” The metal feet of Sebastian’s chair scraped against the floor as he pushed back from the table. “Except...” He
bent over and buried his head in his hands to shield his eyes from the fluorescent lighting that wasn’t making it any easier
to think. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult. I promise. Can you guys just give me a minute? Sorry.”
They kept talking among themselves—they probably even kept talking to Sebastian—but he allowed himself a moment to tune them
out. It wasn’t difficult to understand how Bill could see him the way he did. The fact was, he did usually vote differently than the rest of them. Three-to-One could have been the Adelaide Springs City Council’s boy-band
name. But he was never obstinate for the sake of obstinance. Never. He voted in line with his principles and what he believed
was best for the town. Township Days would not be good for the town. Was it possible that a visit from Brynn Cornell would
be?
His gut said no. Without even seeing it for himself yet, he could picture how that morning’s meltdown probably looked.
He’d seen it before. For whatever reason, people who were paid obscene amounts of money to smile and be likable seemed to eventually find that too taxing.
He had no patience for celebrities, and he wanted nothing to do with anyone who could treat his friends the way she had.
But when he brushed his personal feelings to the side, it was difficult to deny that this whole thing could potentially help
the town in ways he hadn’t even dreamt of. This wouldn’t be some kitschy, doomed-to-fail Hail Mary. If they went forward with
Township Days, they wouldn’t even have the marketing budget to spread the word via the midnight ride of Paul Revere. They
would have to rely on blogs and editorial pieces, all of which would be making fun of them—if they managed to get anyone’s
attention at all.
They were being handed Sunup . Millions of loyal viewers would be tuning in just like they did every morning, not to mention the millions more who would
be rubbernecking the Brynn Cornell debacle. He didn’t trust her, he didn’t trust Sunup , and he didn’t trust the industry as a whole. But if anything was certain, it was that in their eagerness to get their star
off the hook, they would paint Adelaide Springs in the most positive light possible. They would show off its beauty. Its solitude.
What it was and what it strived to be. What it could be.
“Nay.” He raised his head from his hands. “Sorry.”
Doc spoke over Jo’s gasp and Bill’s mutterings to ask, “Can you tell us why?”
Sebastian met Doc’s kind, searching eyes and spoke quietly.
“I don’t want her to come. I know it would be difficult for all of you.
For anyone who knew her.” Under his breath he added, “It won’t be super fun for those of us who didn’t know her either.
” He sighed. “But this is the sort of publicity usually reserved for the Olympics and the Super Bowl. How can I vote against exactly what I’ve been saying we need .
. . only about a trillion times bigger and better?
” They all stared at him with varying degrees of what he interpreted as disappointment and confusion in their eyes.
“It’s not like my vote even matters. But still .
. . there it is.” The boy band would remain intact. As would his conscience.
“Okay,” Doc said, looking to Jo. “I vote nay too.”
“What?!” Bill exclaimed. “So it’s a tie?”
Jo continued to look at Doc and Sebastian in surprise—though she couldn’t have been half as surprised as Sebastian himself.
“No. That’s it. She can come. In the event of a tie, the mayor has the deciding vote.”
Sebastian opened his mouth, but nothing came out. That wasn’t the way that was supposed to go. He’d finally gotten through,
finally won a vote, and it was this one?
One small step for integrity. One giant leap backward for Sebastian Sudworth’s popularity.
“But...” He cowered under the glare of Old Man Kimball. “This is going to be a disaster. Doc... why...”
“You made good points.”
Sebastian scoffed. “Well, thanks, but I always make good points. That’s never mattered before. And I might be wrong, you know.”
Doc shrugged. “Could be.”
“They’re going to try to take advantage of us.” Sebastian took off his ball cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “These
television people... They’re going to come in here and make it seem like they’re doing us a favor by gracing us with their
presence, and they’re going to stir up all sorts of problems. Before we know it, it’s going to be, ‘Hey, hope you don’t mind.
That hundred-year-old aspen was throwing off the white balance on the shot, so it had to go.’”
“We can’t let that happen,” Doc said.
“No, we can’t.” Sebastian put his hat back on.
Doc nodded, his mind made up. “If they try anything like that, we’re counting on you to keep things under control.”
“Um...” Seb looked from Doc to Jo, whose sly grin was beginning to overtake her face, and then back to Doc. “It shouldn’t
be me. You guys know her. I’ve never met her in my life.”
“That’s a good point.” Doc stood from his chair and squeezed Sebastian’s shoulder. “I hadn’t even thought of that, but that’s
more reason why you should do it. She’s already insulted me on national television. Lucky you, you weren’t really included
in that.” He squeezed again. “I hereby move that Sebastian Sudworth act as the town’s representative for the purposes of Brynn
Cornell’s visit to Adelaide Springs.”
“Second.” Jo and Bill said it in unison, and Jo recorded it all on her yellow legal pad.
“I vote nay!” Seb looked around at them in horror. “I most adamantly vote nay!”
“Hey, Jo, make sure Sebastian’s adamant objection is reflected in the minutes.”
She nodded, and even though her face was mostly concealed, it was easy to tell her expression bordered on gleeful. “Sure thing,
Doc.”
“Alright, then.” Doc pushed his chair in, and Bill copied his action. “Thanks, everyone. I’ll make a motion to adjourn.”
Sebastian finally shook off the stupor enough to stand up, run to the door after them, and call out his objections to adjournment,
but it was too late. Three-to-One was back to singing their greatest hit.