“In any case, I don’t want you getting too excited about that field trip. I’m not convinced I’ll let you go.”
Katie looked at him, bewildered. “But why?”
“It might interfere with your training. You have Regionals coming up.”
“But they’re over a month away. And it’s not even an overnight trip. I’d barely be gone, and I—”
“I don’t want you distracted,” my dad bellowed. So, maybe not quite as calm as I’d thought. “God gave you a gift, and I’m not going to let you squander it.”
Right. Another one of my dad’s favorite topics—Katie’s gifts, and her obligation to share them with the world. To glorify God, he said, though I think he really meant to glorify him. It was possible my dad didn’t actually see a difference.
I watched Katie as my dad’s lecture rolled on. She cut up her slice of roast into tinier and tinier pieces. Channeling her frustration into her food, probably. I didn’t blame her. But if lectures were the worst of it, that was something we could both survive.
When my dad finished, she looked up and smiled. “You’re right,” she said. “That makes sense. I didn’t see that before.”
It wasn’t her real smile, and those weren’t her real feelings, I knew.
But it was enough—for now, anyway. It had to be.
“Julian, my boy! How’s the teaching life?”
Tom grinned as I stepped into the conference room of Adair’s public library. He was wearing a button-up shirt with toucans all over it, and a pair of jeans that might have been better left in 1975. He popped up from his seat at the table and pulled me into a vigorous hug.
“It’s going alright.” I smiled in spite of myself. “How’re you?”
Teaching wasn’t going anywhere close to alright, but something about Tom made you not want to bum him out. Actually, something about Tom made me feel a little less bummed out. It was Tuesday evening, and I still hadn’t gotten results of my eval from Anne, but as I slid into a seat across from him at the conference table, I felt better than I had all week.
“Excellent.” Tom smiled broadly. “Just got notice that we’re being counter-sued by a chemical plant down on the Gulf, for trying to stop them from dumping their run-off into the Mobile River.”
“And you’re happy about that?”
“It means we’ve got them scared.” Tom’s eyes sparkled.
Whose eyes sparkled at the thought of fighting a massive company in court?
“Plus,” he continued, “I’ve finally managed to hire someone to run oversight and data collection for McIntyre Beach here, so we might have a shot at finally cutting down on the pollution and vandalism. Asked him to join us tonight. I’m sure you’ll—”
“That man is an odious little bootlicker, and one of these days, I will wipe that smug smile off his face myself.”
I whipped around to see Eleanor Churchill march into the conference room. She was dressed for a society ladies luncheon and brandished her purse like she was considering blunt force trauma. She stalked around to the far side of the table where Tom was sitting.
I blinked. Eleanor always had strong opinions, but usually she wielded them with icily raised eyebrows and disapproving frowns. Someone must have really pissed her off today if she was voicing them outloud.
“Who? The guy Tom hired or—”
“Scott Nash.” She said his name like it was a flesh-eating virus. “The arrogance that man has to imply that he knows better than I do what’s best for this town, simply because he won an at-large council seat by a whisker. Fourteen votes. Did you know that? He had his lackeys glad-handing and bribing people in Adair for months, and he still barely won that seat, but if you thought that might have instilled a sense of humility in him, you’d be sorely mistaken.”
She pulled her chair out with more force than I’d thought her petite frame could manage. It scraped angrily along the cool tile floor, but she sat down like she was taking a throne.
“He told me—to my face—that a woman of my age ought to leave politics and organizing to those more qualified. Suggested that I didn’t have as much political power in this town as he did. Ha. I’ll show him political power. I convinced Nancy Archibald and Millicent LeGrange of the importance of beach preservation at my last tea. Millicent LeGrange. As if Scott could even get her to speak to him, let alone convince her of his mealy-mouthed lies and insinuations.”
Eleanor slammed her purse down on the