Chapter 9 #2
Whatever grudge Luke was holding against Moore, the two instantly bonded again, their faces hardening with a steely resolve Colleen knew all too well.
You could say that Bilbee’s was run down and shabby, shady even–and you would be right–but to say that to regulars like her, Luke, and Moore meant getting an earful.
“And what’s wrong with Bilbee’s?” Colleen asked Anne, leaning forward to look her in the eye. In her peripheral vision, she saw Moore smirk.
“Well,” Anne sniffed. “I know it’s a local institution, and Rider has done a lot to bring up the culinary quality. But it’s still a place where people get into fistfights nearly every week, it’s a destination for bikers, and drugs are clearly an issue there.”
Luke stood and raised his hat like he was waving a red flag at a bull. “May I speak?”
“Robert’s Rules of Order says no,” Anne replied.
“Robert isn’t here, so I’ll just go on ahead,” Luke said.
Anne shut her mouth quickly, clearly uncomfortable with facing off against him.
“Bilbee’s has been around here longer than the Luviews.
Nothing wrong with the place. And if there’s illegal drug activity there, please report it to yours truly so I can investigate and keep Luview safe.
If you’re implying the police department isn’t doing its job, Anne, then we need to talk. ”
She turned as red as his uniform.
“Luke! No. Of course I wasn’t saying that! You’re doing a fine job, and–”
“Then I don’t see what Bilbee’s Tavern has to do with a drawing of a penis on a sign being an eighth of an inch too big.”
“Rules are rules! You of all people should know and respect that, as an officer of the law! If we don’t stick to the rules, anarchy will be unleashed!”
“I’m not sure how you get from a simple store sign to anarchy, Anne,” Luke said drolly. “Besides, has anyone taken a good look at Section 17, Point 2 of the sign code?”
Moore caught Colleen’s eye and winked. Her whole body flooded with heat.
“Of course we have,” Lorne muttered. “And we’re trying to explain to Anne that the sign in question will be hung on the porch.
It isn’t a blade sign that will project out into street view, and as you pointed out, since Love You Harder isn’t in the downtown district, it doesn’t need to be approved by the Love Committee anyway.
Finola submitted her plan as a courtesy. ”
“It’s not just the penis size that’s an issue,” Anne added, sticking to her guns. She took a deep breath to get ready for whatever came next.
“That’s what she said,” Colleen muttered, turning toward Lorne to share a quiet laugh, but she hadn’t noticed him re-adjusting the position of the microphone nearest them.
Her words came out like a baseball announcer’s.
Moore started laughing, his chuckle rumbling deep, sending a direct electric shock to her belly–and below. Lorne cracked up next, until soon the room was nothing but giggles.
Anne picked up the rarely used gavel and banged it once. “This is unacceptable.”
“And that’s what she said next.”
Moore’s eyebrows shot up at Colleen’s joke.
Not you, she mouthed to him, and his eyes flared. Her reply came so casually, so easily.
So dangerously.
For the last two weeks, they’d avoided talking about what happened at the cabin. It was surprisingly easy.
Because she’d avoided him.
Two nights in the hospital in Manchester, then a trip home with Luke treating her like a fragile porcelain doll, had been infuriating. Her mom had hovered over her, every need supplied. Even Harriet had come over and read Ramona Quimby books to her.
Moore had stopped by, but Luke seemed to have a sixth sense for his presence, always there the second his buddy arrived. Neither she nor Moore had pushed to be alone, which told her everything she needed to know.
Their time in the cabin was an aberration. A fluke. A silly indulgence.
A mistake.
The word mistake threatened to spike her eyes with tears, so Colleen did what she knew best:
Deflected.
Standing, she reached for the microphone with her good arm, held it near her mouth, and said, “Here’s what I think.
The sign will be on a covered porch. No one will see that it’s an eighth of an inch too big.
If this committee receives complaints from residents–and committee members do not count–we reconvene on the matter. ”
Nadine Khouri stood, glancing around the room, eyes lingering on Luke, who was now her boss. The longtime admin at the police station, Nadine was older than dirt and set in her ways.
“Penises have no place in Luview,” she began, but her word choice was poor.
Lorne let out a snort that sounded like a moose in heat. It was already audible, but the microphone turned the room into an echo chamber that practically vibrated.
“You know what I mean! And this is completely in violation of the Love Committee rules. No giggling allowed!” Nadine shouted above the giggles and gasps.
The noise was enough to attract people to the doorway. Kell’s girlfriend, Rachel, poked her head in; attending these meetings was part of her job as business development director. Colleen wasn’t surprised to see the town manager, Tom Kohl, right behind her. Both wore bewildered smiles.
Anne banged the gavel again. “We will have to go into closed session on this!”
Lorne bellowed above the gavel’s din, “Penis issues in Luview should be open to the public!”
If this continued, everyone present would end up in Colleen’s emergency room, all needing oxygen and emergency surgery to repair busted guts.
Beyond apoplectic, Anne threw the gavel at Lorne, but he had surprisingly sharp reflexes for a man of his age and the wooden mallet struck the wall behind his head as he ducked.
Anne stormed out, with Nadine and Lucinda Armistead, who had not said a word the entire time, following her like a line of angry protesters.
Which was basically what they were.
Paula looked up from her crossword puzzle and exclaimed, “PHALLUS!”
“Yes,” Doc Blythe replied to her, tilting his head. He’d laughed along with the rest of them but was looking at his pager most of the time. “Phallus is another word for penis.”
“No! I mean, yes, but that’s the word I needed to finish the puzzle.”
“Were you listening at all, Paula?” Colleen asked her, astounded to see the entire New York Times crossword puzzle filled in already. When they’d sat down to start the meeting, it had been blank.
“Pshaw,” she said, waving a dismissive hand in the direction of the door, where the three older women had walked out. “Let them rant. The minute I saw there was a sign involving a penis, I knew this would just be another pearl-clutching meeting.”
“Aren’t they all?” Lorne asked.
“No,” Doc Blythe replied. “Sometimes we have to ban the bank drive-thru from offering green or orange lollipops. Heaven forfend the children of Luview learn that there is any color besides red, white, or pink. Protecting young psyches at all costs.”
“I cannot believe we spent three hours on that issue,” Paula muttered, sliding her clipboard into an oversized canvas purse. “What about kids who like grape? Or orange, or lime?”
“Cast thee out, Satan,” Lorne whispered jokingly, eyes narrowed to slits.
“Hey, now.” They all turned to see Rachel and Tom in the aisle next to Moore and Luke. “The Love Committee plays an important role in branding for the town. You of all people,” Tom said, pausing to lend his considerable authority to the situation, “should understand that.”
“So much of what we do is silly,” Paula said matter-of-factly.
“If you’re going to go in that direction, then the whole concept of Love You, Maine–where every day is Valentine’s Day–is silly, Paula.
That’s the point. Our town runs on love.
Our economy runs on love. We are a destination that is devoted to a feeling, and we have to shape people’s feelings when they’re here.
” Tom folded his arms over his chest, a pen in his front shirt pocket skewing at a rakish angle.
It was, of course, red.
“Because feelings are how you crack wallets open?” Lorne said as he took a long sigh, then a big drink from his thermos.
“Because feelings are how you get people to come back. Over and over. You all know that.” Tom’s eyebrows shot up.
“You of all people, Lorne, understand the concept of building a customer base. Beth’s doing an outstanding job with her pies and coffee.
You give people what they expect, make them feel what they are seeking to feel, and they come back. ”
Rachel nodded, eating up Tom’s words. “Exactly! My bikesharing initiative is next on the agenda, and that is exactly why I need you all to approve it.” She looked at Tom, who made a face.
“I promise they’ll all be pink, white, or red.
I even found heart-shaped red baskets for the fronts of the bikes! ”
“Downtown will be littered with bikes everywhere,” Paula said with a sigh.
“But it’ll cut down on cars–less driving within town. And they won’t be free–there’ll be a nominal fee to rent them, so it’s revenue enhancement. Win-win!”
Colleen grinned at her. Rachel was like a dog with a bone when she was determined.
Just like her.
At that thought, she let herself look at Moore, who was listening to Tom and Rachel.
For two weeks, she’d managed to stay out of his orbit, but now the feeling was building within.
While the rest of them argued about pink bikes and lollipop-related cruelty to children, Colleen braced herself for the conversation she knew was coming.
How did she know? Because she was about to initiate it.
Just not anywhere near Luke.
“Hey.” Speaking of the devil, her red-uniformed brother touched her elbow, whispering softly. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Why are you here?”
He looked down at his shoes and her temper flared.
“Mom sent you, didn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Luke confessed. No use lying.
“I am fine,” she said firmly.
“Is he harassing you?”
“Who?”