Mayor of Macon's Point - By Inglath Cooper Page 0,73
on the sidelines,” Jack said. They parked and ate.
“That hit the spot,” Pete said when he’d emptied his bowl. “So what’s on your mind? The suspense is killing me.”
“Things have worked out a little differently with the factory than I anticipated. I’m thinking I’ll stay on and run it awhile.”
Pete’s eyebrows shot toward the bill of his cap. “Wow.”
“Any interest in buying me out of the consulting business?”
“Any interest in selling cheap?”
Jack laughed. “No, but I’ll entertain offers.”
“You’re serious.”
Jack kicked a toe against the pavement and folded his arms across his chest. “I can’t do both, Pete. This feels like something I need to do. Like the outcome will matter to a lot of people.”
“Well, from a selfish standpoint, I wish like hell you didn’t feel that way. But I understand why you would. I assume you think you can turn the business around, or you wouldn’t be considering taking it on.”
“With a lot of hard work. I’m not kidding myself. It won’t be easy. But I have to try.” That was the feeling he couldn’t shake. He had to try. This town had worked its way back into his heart, and he wanted to do what he could to make sure it didn’t have to change. Staying here under the knowledge that he would likely run into Annie with J.D. felt like a club to the chest, but he was in too deep now to walk away.
To their right, a crowd began to gather around the dunking booth set up at the edge of the asphalt parking lot. Reverend Landers stepped forward and hung a sign on the front: DUNK THE MAYOR: 1.
Annie appeared from the front and climbed the short ladder on the side, wearing a wet suit. Jack’s mouth went suddenly dry.
Pete pursed his lips in a silent whistle.
“Get in line,” Jack said.
“Just when you think there aren’t any surprises left. She wouldn’t have anything to do with your sudden decision to turn country on me, would she?”
“You mean aside from the fact that she just got back with her ex-husband?”
Pete’s face scrunched in disappointment. “Man. That’s too bad.”
“Tell me.”
They watched while a line formed straight out from the booth. Two boys took a shot with windup throws and missed. Three teenage girls, all giggling, followed without success. An older man took the next, and he missed. Another dozen takers lined up, all of whom missed. Good-natured laughter rumbled through the crowd.
Annie wiped her brow in comic relief.
Jack couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was adorable.
“Honey, you can’t sit in there and not get dunked even one time.” This from J.D., who stepped out of the crowd up front near the booth.
“Hey, isn’t that J.D.—”
“Yeah,” Jack said before he could finish.
“That’s too bad.”
“How about letting me take a shot?” J.D. pulled some money from his wallet and handed it to a surprised Reverend Landers.
The crowd went instantly silent.
Annie’s face drained of color.
“Five shots,” J.D. said. “All or nothing. If I miss, I’ll pay double.”
“Big of him, huh?” Pete said.
“Seems to be the kind of guy he is. All heart.”
“You think he’ll really dunk her?”
At that moment, J.D. took aim and threw.
Splash! Annie hit the water.
She stood up, smiling, looking, to her credit, as if J.D. were just any other citizen playing the game. She climbed back onto the board, water streaming from her hair.
Not a man or woman in the crowd laughed. Or for that matter said a word.
The only person enjoying this seemed to be J.D. It was a little like watching someone spear fish in a bucket.
Pete leaned close to Jack. “Doesn’t it say somewhere in the marriage manual that husbands aren’t allowed to do that to wives?”
“They’re not married anymore, but if it doesn’t, it should.” Jack raised a hand and called out, “You miss this one, how about giving me a shot with you in the booth?”
J.D. turned around, his gaze landing like a laser on Jack, as if he’d known exactly where he was standing. “Deal,” he said, confidence oozing from the word.
He wound up, made an exaggerated pitcher’s pose, threw. And missed.
The crowd erupted in a cheer. J.D.’s expression fell. He quickly put a smile back in place and said, “Deal’s a deal.”
Annie climbed out of the booth, took the towel Reverend Landers handed her. Jack looked at her and winked.
Was it his imagination, or was there relief in her eyes?
“Five shots,” Jack said, handing the reverend his money.
J.D. pulled off his shoes—expensive-looking shoes—and climbed in. Jack wished he’d kept