Grandma Palmer said, rising to her feet to be seen behind the half dozen rows in front of her. “Not everyone agrees with Sylvester.”
As the petitions were passed forward, people started arguing with each other across the aisles. Mrs. Ludlow used her walker to block the way of someone collecting petitions for their opponents until Doug Thalberg pulled it back.
Grandma Palmer calmly waited her turn to continue. Adam realized she was dressed almost understated for her, in bright red that made her stand out but not in her usual wacky way.
“Mayor Galimi,” Grandma Palmer said at last, “Miss Winslow approached the Valentine Valley Preservation Committee about grants to help her restore the old funeral home on Grace and Fourth. We’ve found nothin’ objectionable, nothin’ pornographic. I don’t see how Sylvester can try to tell women what they can wear under their clothes!”
Over half the room roared with laughter, overwhelming the glowers of the rest.
Another woman stood up, and everyone else settled down when the mayor pounded her gavel.
“You have something to say, Debbie?”
The plump woman wore a sweatshirt with the logo of her B&B, an etching of an elegant woman with an Edwardian large-brimmed hat tilted over her face. “I’m the owner of The Adelaide, where Miss Winslow is staying. I’m planning to host a lingerie event so everyone can see how tasteful each garment is. If you remember, Mayor Galimi, many people resisted bed-and-breakfasts thirty years ago, claiming they’d bring tourists to ruin our wholesome family town. Well, tourists have saved us, and upscale lingerie in a town called Valentine can only help.”
She sat down to cheering applause from half the room and boos from the other. People took their turns speaking about morality, and harming children, and anything they could think of. The elder Mrs. Thalberg talked about a woman’s need to feel pretty for her man, and Adam noticed with interest that Brooke was blushing. Eventually, the mayor declared that the council would have to discuss this in executive session, promising a response at their next meeting, just before Christmas.
While the opposition went to the True Grits Diner to hash over everything, Emily opened up her bakery for Leather and Lace’s supporters. A couple dozen people milled around, elbows brushing, and the widows helped her serve customers. Adam pretended he wasn’t watching his grandma, but more than once, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her put the cane aside because it kept catching on Mrs. Ludlow’s walker.
He tried to blend into the background, recognizing more than one face. He wanted Leather and Lace to be the focus, not him, but one by one, people came to greet him at his grandma’s table and shake his hand, thanking him for his service to their country.
“I heard what you did,” said Gloria, Nate’s secretary. “You’re a true American hero.”
Much as he was resolved to accept his past and forgive himself, his heart was beating too fast, and he actually felt clammy.
“Adam?” Grandma Palmer touched his hand, her expression concerned.
Brooke was at their table, too, along with Coach McKee, and they were all looking at him.
“I might have told some people how proud I was that you saved all those men,” Coach said. “I didn’t think it would upset you.”
Brooke said nothing, and Adam felt her watching him closely.
“I’m not upset,” he assured the man. “I just . . . any one of those men would have done the same for me.”
“Then if you’re okay,” Coach continued. “I need you two to leave Renee and me alone. We have some things to discuss for the preservation committee, and since you two aren’t on it—scram.”
Brooke had a hard time taking her eyes off Adam as they left the two old people in peace. He moved toward the back of the bakery, pretending to look at a cheesecake display in the glass cooler, but she knew he wasn’t seeing it. He’d been wonderfully supportive of his grandma all evening even though he didn’t seem at ease in big crowds. She imagined even if he knew the truth about his grandma’s “condition,” he wouldn’t be all that upset. Sometimes it was hard to remember he was once that cocky boy from high school. When they were alone, he had humor and charm; more and more, he was his talkative self. But tonight, she was seeing a very different side of him.
Coach McKee had called him a hero—had told other people the same. And Adam’s face had drained of color. What