Church on Sunday was particularly awkward.
As Delores Crenshaw pounded out an uneven version of “How Great Thou Art,” April, May, and June Mahoney threw poison eye-darts at my grandmother because Gus had mustered the stones to come sit with us instead of them. And everyone in the congregation noticed, because there was no way not to. The seating chart at Saint Bartholomew’s was essentially carved into a stone tablet, so we were in our usual Callaghan spots, fifth row back on the right, but then Gus arrived at our pew, knit cap in hand, and an entire row of people had to shift. We managed, but there was much rustling of coats, then whispers of parishioners, as everyone realized that Gus had left his sisters for Gigi.
Three rows in front of the Mahoney sisters was an open spot where Bridget O’Malley used to sit. Gloria Persimmons-Kloosterman waved at me as she walked down the aisle, Tiny in tow, and blew a little kiss to the empty spot before sitting there. It was only right that she have it, since she’d been the one to bring Mrs. O’Malley to church for the last several years. Emily, Ryan, and Chloe were right in front of us, and I caught my sister moving her left hand ever so slightly so that the sun coming in the window might set her diamond engagement ring to sparkling. She accidentally flashed me in the eye with it, so I flicked her in the back of the head, which made Gigi pinch me.
This all paled in comparison, however, to the awkwardness of having to sit next to my dad after what had happened the other night. I always sat next to my dad, per the stone-tablet seating chart, but today he could hardly make eye contact. I guess something about seeing me on my red sofa, arms and legs twisted around Leo Walker like a tantric pretzel, was a little more than he could handle. Quite frankly, the idea of him seeing us that way was pretty hard for me to take, too. Maybe I was the one avoiding eye contact.
I’d felt pretty good as I got dressed this morning. Under my brand-new sage-green cashmere sweater, I was wearing a new bra and matching panties. I’d gone for a pale pink set because it was, after all, Sunday and I was in church, but I still felt . . . sassy? Sexy? Pretty? Sinful? No, I didn’t feel sinful. For one thing, I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was thirty-six, for goodness’ sake, and if I wanted to roll around on my couch with a consenting adult, that was okay. Then my father cleared his throat, and the whole scene played out in my head again, and I wondered if I should talk to him about this or, per family history, just ignore the entire situation.
“How goes it in the world of politics, Brooke?” Judge Murphy asked me after the service as everyone was strolling out. “Think you’ll be running for governor one day?”
“Not a chance, Judge,” I answered. “But I appreciate you even thinking that was a possibility.”
He dashed away the compliment with his follow-up. “Well, anyone can run.”
I decided to not take that personally.
“Say,” he mentioned a second later, “I had a nice afternoon with that writer friend of yours. Len? Lenny?”
“Leo?”
He snapped his fingers. “That’s the one. Nice guy. Interesting background. Told me he was in Iraq, then he did security, now he’s a bartender and writing a book? Wow. Kid’s got his poker in a lot of fires.”
My father cast a droll glance over his shoulder at the judge. “You have no idea, Brian,” he muttered.
Awesome.
“Excuse me, Judge. I just remembered I need to have a word with my future brother-in-law.” I turned back to find Emily, Ryan, and Chloe stuck by their pew talking to Vera VonMeisterburger. This posed a dilemma. Few people willingly approached the batty librarian, but I did want to avoid my father, and I really did have something I needed to talk to Ryan about. I took a deep breath and shook off my resistance.
“Hey, Aunt Brooke,” Chloe said as she dashed toward me for a hug. Her eyes were wide, and as we embraced she whispered in my ear, “Get me away from the batshit crazy bat lady.”
I chuckled against my better judgment. “Don’t swear in church.”
“Sorry, but that’s what Ryan always calls her. And she is, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” We linked arms and walked toward the others. “So, what do you think about this getting-married business?”
“I’m legit excited. I told Ryan I’d only give him my permission to ask my mom if he promised to get me my own horse.” She giggled and leaned in against me. “I think he thought I was kidding.”
“I’m sure he thought you were kidding, but you could get a job at Colette’s Riding Stable in the summer, and then you could ride for free.”
“That’s not nearly as awesome as having my own horse.”
“Maybe not, but it’s a hell of a lot cheaper.”
“Aunt Brooke!” she gasped with feigned shock. “Don’t swear in church.”
We stopped a few feet from my sister, Ryan, and Vera. “Make a break for it, kid. I’ll cover for you.” She scampered away with a grateful wave.
“Hello, Vera,” I said. “I hate to interrupt, but I have pressing governmental matters that I need to discuss with my sister and her fiancé.”
“What matters?”
“Oh, nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
Her eyes narrowed to even slittier slits. “Democracy will crumble without transparency, Brooke. I should think as the mayor you’d realize that.”
“I understand your point, Vera. I’ll have a report for the council next week. But for now, I need to pull these two away.”
I reached forward to pull Ryan and my sister by the coat sleeves down to the other end of the pew, just to make a full break from the cone of Vera’s presence.
“‘Pressing governmental matters’?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah, not really, but actually, sort of. I was wondering if you’d check out the old community center with me this afternoon. I’m urging the council to approve some renovations, but I want to know what it might cost before I approach them about it. Is that something you think the Taggert companies might be interested in?”
“A bid on a government job? Can I triple all my prices?” He pulled some gloves from the pockets of his wool coat.
“No, but you can give us a ten percent discount if you want. Let’s call it the Callaghan family discount. Emily will make it worth your while.” I winked at my sister.
“What? What do I have to do with this? I’m not the mayor.”
“No, but maybe if you’re helpful, then the city will hire you to do the interior design work.”
She smiled. “Awesome. Can I triple my prices?”
“No, but Ryan will make it worth your while. See how I did that there?”
“Clever. You’re getting good at this politician stuff,” Emily said. “Hey, on a completely unrelated topic, did you ever talk to Lilly?”
“Shoot. No, I never called her. I was so tired from having you spend all my money yesterday that I went to bed early last night.”
“Alone?”
Her question prompted Ryan to look at her in surprise. Then at me. Then at her. “Is there something going on I haven’t heard about?”
I shook my head and tried to flick her again, but she expertly dodged my hand and laughed. “Brooke has a little somethin’ somethin’ going on with the new bartender at the Palomino.”
“Emily!” I scolded. “That’s a secret. And anyway, I did go to bed alone last night. Stop spreading gossip.” I chuckled and looked around to make sure no one could hear us. I could feel the blush stealing over my cheeks, even though I didn’t mind that Ryan knew. It actually felt a little fun to be teased. And to have something so delicious to be teased about.
“I’m not spreading gossip because it’s true. And besides, we’re in church. You’re not supposed to lie in church.” She stuck her tongue out at me because we were that mature.
“I think you’re not supposed to punch your sister in the face in church, either, but I’m feeling rebellious.” I raised my fist, but that only made her laugh again.
“Ladies, ladies, ladies.” Ryan took both of us by the shoulder and turned us toward the front door. “Let’s head on over to the community center. I think the cold air and the walk will do you both good.”
“I’d consider this a midsize overhaul,” Ryan said as we stood on the third floor of the community center. “It’s very doable. The bones of this place are good, and the electrical isn’t in too bad of shape, from what I can tell. I see a lot of potential. What’s your timeframe on wanting it completed?”
“As soon as possible and under budget,” I answered with a chuckle. “But I guess my question is, if I get the financing approved, how long do you think the project would take? And how much would it cost?”
“I’ll need a little time to give you an estimate on cost. I’d have to do more inspections, check the plumbing and a few other things, but assuming there’s no huge defect that I just don’t see right now, I think we could be in and out in six to eight weeks. Maybe faster if I move some of my crew in here from other projects.”
“That’s awesome. Do you think if I got the council’s approval right away, you could start immediately? Maybe even have the main floor functional by Christmas?”
“Hold your horses, there, Mayor Callaghan,” my sister said. “I still need my crew working on the Blueberry Lane Bed-and-Breakfast.”
“I know. I was just thinking how fun it would be to have a big holiday party here. They used to do that when we were kids. Do you remember?”
Emily looked around, maybe trying to jog a memory. “Sort of. But Christmas isn’t that far off. Thanksgiving is next week.”
That caught my attention. “Thanksgiving is next week? Where the hell did November go?” I’d been so busy and distracted by work and Leo and more Leo and more work lately that the time was flying by. I couldn’t help but wonder if Leo would still be around at Christmas. Or New Year’s Eve. It sure would be nice to have someone to kiss under the mistletoe. And someone to kiss as the clock struck midnight. But just as a lot had happened in the past few weeks, a lot could happen in the upcoming weeks as well.
“Definitely not by Christmas,” Ryan answered, bringing me back to the moment. “Sorry, but there’s just no way to make that happen. Maybe by Valentine’s Day?”
Valentine’s Day? My mind wandered again. It sure would be nice to have someone to kiss on Valentine’s Day . . .