I’ve never been into politics.
In fact, I’ve done my best to avoid it, particularly those of the local variety.
So the email from Bitsy (copying Wanda) has me in a twist.
“Albert,
I hope this note finds you well and recovered from the ‘grand opening’ of our little ‘burg’s time capsule. How revealing, wouldn’t you say?
With the mayoral special election in the offing, I was hoping I might bring Wanda, our leading candidate, to Hilltop for a visit – not only to earn your vote but to discuss a few ideas we’ve been entertaining since the meeting with Thornton.
Might you have an hour or so in the coming days? We’ll bring the snacks.
Kind regards,
Bitsy McMurtry”
On the very rare occasion that I’ve dipped my toe into these shark-infested waters, I have found that so much of what gets done and doesn’t get done hinges on past slights, on who went with whom to what prom, or who bullied whom in the high school hallways.
In fact, I can recall a meeting several years ago run by then-mayor Polly Warner, a former classmate of mine. Though her brain never developed beyond ninth grade chemistry, I had no choice but to attend following an incident on the Hilltop property that brought the sheriff’s department as well as the paramedics out in the middle of the night. Seems one of my staff members fell and broke her arm, so rather than cause any undue attention, the easiest thing I could think of was just to pay for everyone’s overtime and relieve Middle Valley of the burden.
“The way to do that,” Polly said, “is to attend the next board meeting. We’ll have the Dispatch photographer there, camera in hand! Everyone will know of your generosity!”
And so it went. The photographer came, just as she said, and took the money-shot as Polly and I flanked a giant check made out to Middle Valley. I turned to leave, and just then …
“Now, everyone, I have to tell you. Our Albert’s come a long way from turning me down for Sadie Hawkin’s dance, haven’t you, Albert?”
I stared at her. “Did I do that?”
She nodded. “Don’t tell me you forget?”
I had, in fact, forgotten.
Which is why as I stand here now, watching Bitsy and Wanda pull up the front driveway, I am flummoxed. (I can’t even eat a scone. Since when do I skip my scone?)
Bitsy emerges from the car, pastry box in hand, and Wanda follows behind her carrying a heated thermos. I step outside.
“Ladies, how are you both this morning?”
Bitsy pauses in her trek toward my front door. “My, this is a much larger place than I could have ever imagined,” she says, admiring the front lawn and flower beds. “You must pay a fortune in upkeep.”
I smile and nod. If there is one thing I remember about Bitsy McMurtry, it’s her ability to smell money from a mile away.
“Albert, Wanda Moreno. I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.”
Wanda sets the thermos on the porch table and extends her hand.
“I’ve heard of your work,” I say. “And let me say I am sorry about Stu. I know it’s been some time, but I’ve never had the chance to express my sympathies.”
Wanda nods. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”
I make a mental note to thank my secretary later for reminding me of the details around Wanda’s situation.
“The tourism business certainly seems to be thriving here, thanks to you, Mrs. Moreno. Please.” I motion to the table and chairs on the porch. “Have a seat and make yourselves at home.”
Bitsy removes her jacket and opens the box of treats. “Straight from the Riverside. Cecil got creative this morning already. We have cannolis, donut holes, and lemon bars.”
“May I offer you coffee, Albert?” Wanda asks. I nod and accept. “Wonderful,” she says. “We do have several questions for you, so we brought the extra caffeine.”
I sip, cautiously. “What are your … questions?” I ask.
“Well,” Bitsy says, taking over as she munches a lemon bar. “We were hoping to form a partnership of sorts. You see, we believe your home could be the focal point for our new tourism push and we’d like to make it a part of Wanda’s platform, which she’ll announce at the debate in two days.”
I inhale my coffee just a bit, but not enough to make me cough. “Two days, you say?”
Wanda nods as she sips her coffee. “Well, we don’t need to announce it in two days, but we’d like to tease it … maybe give the people a little preview.”
“And what are you thinking … Do you need office space or something? I mean, I guess I’m not following …”
Bitsy takes a long sip of coffee and stands up. She extends her arms. “We want tours, we want boat rides, we want the history of Middle Valley to begin and end here, high above the river … I mean, look at that view! Unbelievable! Can’t you see it?”
Wanda folds her hands and smiles. She looks in my direction. “Can’t you see it Albert?”
I place my coffee cup on the table and help myself to a cannoli as I stand up.
“No, my friends. I’m afraid I cannot. Now I’ll ask you to clean all of this up and move on with your day.”
I turn back quickly in their direction, Bitsy now once again seated. “And please give my regards to the chef. These are absolute perfection.”
Gunnar Olafsson