A Small Town Christmas Part 8

"Meanwhile, clean the bite with hydrogen peroxide," Mom commanded. "It's the best thing in the world for infection."

"Good idea." Emma hurried to the bathroom, hoping that as she walked she wasn't pumping germy teta.n.u.s bugs all through her bloodstream. Teta.n.u.s shots were supposed to really hurt. Shots, infection-boy, did no good deed go unpunished. Still, if people came out for the meeting it would all be worth it.

How quickly did teta.n.u.s germs spread? Hopefully, she'd be alive for the meeting.

Emma lived, and on November fourth, she drove to the Heart Lake Grange Hall, hoping against hope that she'd see a parking lot full of cars. Or even half full. Okay, a third. She'd settle for that.

The trees parted to reveal the old log building that had been Heart Lake's Grange Hall since the thirties, when much of the land had been taken up by strawberry and blueberry farms. Exactly two cars sat in its potholed parking lot. One she recognized as her mom's. The other was Sarah's. Where was everyone else? Where was the woman with the leg-eating dog? She should have at least come out of guilt.

Emma parked her car and checked her watch. Six fifty-five and the meeting was supposed to start at seven. She suddenly felt like she had a stone inside her, sinking fast from her heart to her stomach. They had failed.

The crunch of tires on gravel made her turn. Yay, another body. People would show. They were just running late. Jamie pulled up next to her. She sighed. Well, the organizers were here. And their mothers. She grabbed her platter of cookies from the front seat and got out.

"Big turnout," Jamie said in disgust as she got out of her car.

"We still have five minutes," Emma reminded her.

"Let's hope that everyone in Heart Lake is running late," said Jamie. She shook her head. "And after that great article in the paper-if this is all the turnout we get I'm going to be majorly p.i.s.sed."

You and me both, thought Emma. Except Emma wasn't going to admit it.

They went inside to find Sarah had already decorated, hanging purple, pink, and red foiled hearts all over the walls. Emma's mother hurried over to greet her daughter, trailed by Grandma Nordby. It wasn't hard to tell the two women were related. Each one of them looked like Russian nesting dolls-with the same round face and body Emma had inherited. Mom's strawberry-blond hair was now shot with gray, well on its way to Grandma Nordby's solid white. Emma didn't need a magic mirror to see her future. All she had to do was look at her grandma and mom.

"We're so proud of you, dear," said Grandma.

Emma frowned. "It's not much of a turnout."

Her mother looked at her watch. "It's not seven yet. You still have four minutes."

Four minutes. Anything could happen in four minutes. Emma set the platter of cookies she'd bought on the little table Sarah had covered with a tablecloth. It already held a flower arrangement courtesy of Hope Wells the florist and a plate of ginger cookies. Next to Sarah's famous ginger cookies, Emma's grocery-store offering didn't look like much.

Sarah emerged from the kitchen, carrying two coffee carafes. "Are we all ready?" she greeted them.

Emma nodded. "I just hope more people come."

Car tires crunched on the gravel. "They'll be here," Sarah a.s.sured her. "Sure you don't want to do the talking? This was your idea."

Talk in front of people? No, thanks. "You go ahead."

At that moment Sarah's husband, Sam, joined them. He was a big man, still buff and good-looking in spite of the growing bald spot on the top of his head. "Don't forget to put this out," he said, and laid the newspaper article on the table next to their cookies. "Pretty good publicity."

It was. The headline read, Heart Lake Angels Work to Put Heart in Heart Lake, and in addition to the article, they'd gotten their pictures in the paper. It was the first time Emma had ever had her picture in the paper. She was going to frame it.

So, with all that great publicity, where was everyone?

The door opened and in walked Sarah's friend Kizzy Maxwell with her husband, Lionel. She saw Sarah and Emma, waved at them and started their way, her husband in tow. "This is a great idea," she said, giving Sarah a hug. "Was it yours?"

Jamie had joined them now. She pointed to Emma. "Hers."

"Oprah would be proud," said Kizzy. Her husband grabbed a cookie from the platter and she c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at him. "Lionel Jefferson Maxwell."

He frowned and said, "I'm just having one."

"They're free," said Sam, digging in, "have two."

"Good idea," said Emma, and took two ginger cookies as consolation for their poor turnout.

As the minute hand inched toward seven, more people trickled in. There was Hope, and behind her Emma recognized Pastor Ed the gentle giant who gave pastors a good name; Kevin Dwyer, who ran the chamber of commerce; and Lezlie Hurst, the reporter from the Heart Lake Herald, who had done their story. Yay! Movers and shakers. And now here came . . .

"Oh, lucky us," said Sarah next to her. "It's the mighty Quinn. She looks happy."

Mayor Melanie Quinn was dressed to the nines as always in a gray suit accessorized with a string of pink pearls. Her highlighted blond hair was freshly styled and her face was perfectly madeup. And her smile was totally phony. Her eyes looked like blue ice as she walked toward them.

"What's she p.i.s.sed about?" Jamie wondered.

"You can't guess?" Sarah said in an undertone voice. "This wasn't her idea. She can't take credit for it. Melanie," she greeted the mayor. "This is an honor."

Melanie Quinn was a good enough politician to ignore Sarah's sarcastic tone. "I'm glad to be here. Anything that involves Heart Lake involves me," she added sweetly.

"How lucky for us."

Sarah and the mayor had known each other for thirty years, but this was no time for old rivalries. "It's great to have your blessing," Emma gushed, trying to make up for Sarah's unusual lack of manners.

"I just wish someone would have come to me with this idea," said Mayor Quinn, still smiling. Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe I could have helped ensure a bigger turnout."

"Heaven knows you're good at manipulating numbers," said Sarah. "How many recounts did we have to have last election?"

"Um, how about a cookie," said Emma, grabbing the platter. "Fresh from the bakery."

The mayor came as close to sneering as a public official who sensed the approach of the media could possibly come. "I'll pa.s.s. After a certain age most of us have to watch our waistline."

Now Sarah's eyes narrowed.

"Mayor Quinn," said Lezlie the reporter, pulling out her trusty camera. "How about a picture for the paper?"

"Of course," said the mayor, slipping an arm around Sarah and Emma, and pulling Jamie in, too. "Sarah, you just get curvier all the time."

"Still jealous?" Sarah shot back.

Mayor Quinn unhooked herself from them the moment the picture was snapped, saying, "If you ladies will excuse me, I need to speak with Kevin."

"That woman," Sarah growled as the mayor hurried across the room to network.

"Nice s.h.i.+ndig," said a voice at her elbow.

Emma took in the short man wearing black slacks and a s.h.i.+rt that looked like a leftover from one of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. The s.h.i.+rt was open to show off a chest bristling with gray hairs. To top off the ensemble, he had a gold chain dangling around his neck.

He was checking out Sarah the way Kizzy's husband had looked at the ginger cookies. She did look cute in her jeans and V-necked black sweater. The V-neck stuff had become standard since Sarah heard the lines were better for middle-aged women, although Emma suspected the newcomer wasn't so much admiring the flattering neckline on her sweater as he was the highlighted cleavage.

Sarah took the plate of cookies from Emma. "Cookie, Leo?"

"I love sweet things," he said with a smile that made Emma think of the big, bad wolf.

"We should start," said Sarah briskly. "Excuse me." She moved up to the podium on the little stage. "If we could get you all to sit down," she called, "we'll begin our meeting."

Everyone obediently found a seat among the folding chairs Sam had set up-a few bodies adrift in a sea of chairs. It was a pretty unimpressive beginning, to say the least.

"Thanks for coming," Sarah said once everyone was settled. "We know you're all busy and we really appreciate you taking time to come out for this meeting tonight. I promise we'll make it brief."

"Don't hurry on our account," cracked her admirer. "We're here as long as the cookies hold out."

Sarah managed a polite smile. "I'm sure you all read the article in the paper," she went on, "so you know how this idea started. We're here because we love Heart Lake, and we want to keep it the great, friendly place it's always been. That can be hard with so many new people moving in. You lose your sense of connection. Those of you who are here are the heartbeat of this town. And you care. We might start small, but we can make a big difference. We can keep the heart in Heart Lake."

"Amen to that!" Pastor Ed called, and started clapping.

The other attendees joined suit, and suddenly Emma didn't see a small turnout for a big job. She saw a real movie moment. She smiled and wiped tears from the corners of her eyes.

"So how does this work exactly?" asked Hope after the applause died down.

"As simply as possible," replied Sarah. "Like Oprah's Angel Network, only without Oprah," she added with a smile.

She brought Jamie up to share how she and Emma had created their goody jars. "You don't even have to do that," Jamie concluded. 'You could let someone go in front of you in line at Safeway or at the four-way stop."

"We don't want to make this complicated," Sarah said as Jamie sat down. "Just do a good deed and tell the person you helped to pa.s.s it on. It won't work unless we talk it up. And, speaking of talking it up, we thought it would be good to get T-s.h.i.+rts made. If you're all willing to buy one and wear it that will help build interest. And we can donate the proceeds to the food bank."

"Great idea," approved Pastor Ed.

"We could sell them at the chamber," offered Kevin.

"I can sell them at Changing Seasons, too," Hope said.

"Heck, let's all sell them," said Emma. This could catch on. It really could.

Sarah nodded. "Good idea."

"You need a headquarters," said Madam Mayor, "someplace central to coordinate this."

Not hard to tell whom the good mayor envisioned at the center of the project.

"I'm not sure we need a central office for good deeds," said Sarah.

"Well, if you do, we'll give you a corner of our office," Kevin offered.

"Great," said Sarah in a voice that settled it.

The mayor pressed her lips firmly together and crossed her arms.

"I think that basically covers it," said Sarah.

"Do we want to meet again?" suggested Pastor Ed. "Share some of our experiences?"

"Oh, good idea," seconded Emma. "Let's meet next month."

"How about January?" Sarah countered. "People get pretty busy during the holidays."

"We'll all be busy being angels," said Emma, beaming.

"Speak for yourself," cracked Sarah's admirer.

"January sounds good," said Kevin.

"All in favor?" asked Sarah, and everyone said, "Aye."

"The ayes have it. Thanks for coming, everyone. Now, let's go start putting the heart back in Heart Lake."

"And if something extraordinary or heartwarming happens, call me," added Lezlie. "We'll put it in the paper."

After a word with Lezlie, the mayor exited. Emma barely had time to thank Hope for the flower arrangement before she followed suit, probably anxious to get home to her new husband. The others stayed and chatted for a while. Good energy, thought Emma, watching them.

Leo Steele was the last to leave, only taking the hint when Sam said, "Okay, ladies, time to lock up."

"I wish more people had come," said Jamie as Sam turned out the lights. "We only had thirteen here."

"That's my lucky number," Emma said, determined to stay positive. "Anyway, look what Jesus did with just twelve disciples. And we have thirteen, a baker's dozen."

"I didn't see Jesus here tonight," Jamie said grumpily.

"I did," said Sarah. "And I think He's pretty happy about this." She gave Emma a hug. "It was an inspired idea. Good things are going to come of this. You wait and see."

"Yeah, for everybody but your poor, ignored husband," cracked Sam, coming up behind her.

Sarah ignored him. "If nothing else, we'll all be better people," she told Emma. "And that's worth something."

Of course, she was right, but Emma wanted more than that. She wanted everyone in Heart Lake to become better people, not just them. This had to work. They'd make it work.

Hopefully.

"All right," Sarah said as she and Sam drove out of the Grange Hall parking lot, "what did you mean by that remark?"

"What remark?"

"You know, the one about the poor ignored husband."

"Oh, that. I was just being a smart-a.s.s."

Okay, good.

"But you do have this way of getting involved with projects," he added.