Douchebag.
The word scrawled across Chloe’s notebook made Emmalina Valentina Torrence—EV to her friends—snort out loud. Mostly because, while inelegant and downright crass, it perfectly described the annoying man currently speaking to the sizable group of citizens attending the Ponderosa Pines quarterly town meeting.
A typical New England town meeting takes place once a year, but in Ponderosa Pines, anything worth doing once was worth doing four times; hence, the quarterly town meeting. Once a year, the town voted in a new set of officials; the other three meetings were less well-attended, and most often no more than a formality. Tonight, however, the mere formality had already ended and a three ring circus was about to begin. EV could tell because they’d already brought in the clown.
After fifteen minutes of fidgeting in his seat and clearing his throat repeatedly, local handyman Luther Plunkett now held court at the front of the room. Still in his work clothes, with an attempt at an earnest expression pasted on his round, freckled face and a liberal sprinkling of sawdust in his curly, mouse-brown hair, he stalked back and forth while making his plea.
“You got my hands tied with all these regulations: recycled materials, energy efficient building. That’s not the way they do things in Warren or in Gilmore. I’m a business man; I gotta be able to make a profit. You all know me. I been good to my customers: always going above and beyond, but I’m losing money on every job,” his voice rose to a whining pitch that grated EV’s nerves and clenched her teeth.
What a phony; and worse, he was a phony with aspirations. More than anything, Luther wanted to elevate himself from a lowly handyman to a high-end contractor. Never mind that Ponderosa Pines had neither the population nor the commercial base to support such a desire.
“Bull puckey!” someone called out from the back of the room. “Why don’t you shut up and sit down, Luther?” EV craned her head around to search unsuccessfully through the crowd for the heckler.
Luther’s reputation for bragging about his abilities then providing shoddy construction had not stopped people hiring him. Without scrupulous supervision, Luther rushed around doing things to make himself look busy, while supplying homeowners with hurried, slapdash workmanship—for which he charged premium prices. His reputation was that of a greedy shyster with minimal skills and a big mouth.
Rising to her feet, EV moved toward the front of the hall, controlled fury giving her the grace of a panther stalking its prey. Tension announced itself in the clench of her fists, the way her eyes narrowed and cooled, the angle of her chin. Long legs carried her forward until she stood toe to toe with Luther. She had six inches of height on him, and the authority of age combined with conviction sat well on her strong shoulders.
“Reducing our carbon footprint is part of the town charter, and that means building and maintaining energy efficient homes; but it also means using a percentage of recycled materials. You’re asking us to set aside our goals and regulations, not for the sake of the community, but so you can increase your profit margin?” EV’s voice fell like a rain of dry desert sand. She turned direct, brown eyes toward the crowd and brushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear.
Before Luther could answer, John Peterson spoke up, “Maybe you could explain why using reclaimed materials is so much harder on your bottom line. I know my cousin in Warren paid you enough to cover your crew plus exorbitant dump fees for tearing down that old barn of his. You ended up with a load of perfectly good lumber, enough usable steel roofing to do a house, and made a little profit on the job. You got a lot of nerve standing here complaining.”
“Give the man a break.” Evan Plunkett spoke up. No surprise there, the Plunkett brothers were cut from the same cloth. “All this green living stuff is a pipe dream. It’s time to wake up and smell the coffee,” he sneered. “Or would that be the Chai tea?”
Where Luther was ineptly incompetent, his younger brother Evan intentionally caused chaos. Driven by greed and a need for validation, he spent an inordinate amount of time scheming to gain a measure of control in town affairs. As careful as he tried to be, bits and pieces of his plans always made their way back to the town gossip mongers, who could disseminate information faster than the speed of light.
Such were the workings of the Ponderosa Pines grapevine. With roots running deep and true, its leafy goodness snaked through nearly every household in town before returning to the spot where its seed had long ago been planted: smack dab in the middle of EV’s front yard.
If a gnat sneezed in the woods, EV knew about it. Anyone with a lick of sense would have picked another chicken to pluck, another fish to try and fry. It was a lesson both Evan and Luther seemed unable to learn.
So, when Luther offered the first selectman a cheap bathroom remodel if he voted in Evan’s favor—EV knew.
When Evan got one of the survey companies he worked with in Gilmore to lay to rest a property dispute between the third selectman and her neighbor—and for once and all prove who was responsible for the dead tree neither wanted to pay to cut down—EV knew.
In the end, it had been Evan who left that meeting with his tail tucked between his legs. Thinking he had two of the town’s three selectmen tucked tightly in his pocket, it was with shock and awe that he watched as the man who was supposed to slash and burn the forest, slashed and burned any chance for a vote in his favor.
Ever since then, EV had been waiting and watching for the pair of brothers to make their next move. Tonight, there was little doubt Luther’s seemingly benign plea was the opening salvo to a new scheme.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, at the tender age of thirty-three, EV had become the town matriarch and now, twenty years later, she was more firmly cast in the role than ever. Ponderosa Pines, a once thriving commune, had become next best thing to a ghost town after its founders and primary owners, EV’s parents, returned to their mainstream life.
Determined to save her beloved home, EV rallied the remaining residents into expanding into a planned community with the goal of becoming an eco-friendly town. Bit by bit, year by year, with the help of those remaining members, now known as the town elders, EV brought the spirit of her parent’s vision into the new age.
The only thing EV and the elders hadn’t counted on was that some of the next generation might not look upon Ponderosa Pines as the paradise they all considered it to be. This was the case with Evan and Luther, whose mother—herself an elder—had not passed on her love of green living and community spirit to her sons.
Following the path from changing the town’s building codes to allow for the use of shoddier, mass produced materials to its end where the door would now open for Luther to build houses on spec—houses that Evan, in his capacity as a real estate broker, could sell—was one route that needed neither a map nor a flashlight.
The whole setup was a smokescreen, EV thought as she watched the proposal get voted down. She would have bet her life on that fact. The only thing left to do was wait for the other shoe to drop.
Chloe LaRue maintained an appearance of casual interest while her keen eyes roamed around the room and observed her small community voice their opinions on Luther’s proposal. Her job as gossip columnist for the Pine Cone, Ponderosa Pines’ weekly newsletter, demanded attention to detail. ‘Babble & Spin’ was by far the most popular regular article, and had been since the very first issue rolled off a second-hand printing press over thirty years ago.
Too bad she couldn’t take any public credit for her work; Chloe was simply the latest in a series of anonymous authors. No past writer had ever been unmasked, and Chloe wasn’t about to be the first. Readers enjoyed speculating on the identity of the mystery author almost as much as they enjoyed learning scandalous information about their neighbors. Ponderosa Pines was, like most small towns, full of busybodies.
EV, as the only person Chloe ever confided in, enjoyed being privy to yet another Ponderosa secret and took great delight in helping Chloe maintain her anonymity. The fount of information stored in EV’s exceptional brain was a most welcome benefit, and Chloe relied heavily on those tidbits at the beginning of her tenure at the Cone.
Now, as she listened to Luther continue to blather incoherently, one thought replayed in Chloe’s mind:
I did not come back here only to watch the integrity of the community be lambasted by these two morons. And I won’t let it happen without a fight.
Double douchebag.
Chloe underlined the indictment with a series of vicious pen slashes while EV muttered epithets under her breath until her patience snapped like a rubber band in sub-zero weather.
“To that intent and purpose, the town of Gilmore has expressed their agreement for the purpose of annotating…”
“Annexing.” Evan hissed too loudly for a whisper.
“Annexing,” Luther parroted, “the town of Ponderosa Pines.”
And there it was; EV heard the echoing thump as the other shoe hit the floor. This was what the boob brothers had been leading up to all along: an attempt to combine Ponderosa Pines with neighboring Gilmore.
A mental click followed the thump.
This must be their end game; what Evan and Luther had been working toward all along. Forehead wrinkled into furrows of frown lines, EV ran through the probabilities for why now, at the very first fiscal meeting of the year—the meeting where electing new town officials had just effectively removed anyone already allied with Evan from office—would the Plunkett brothers have raised this particular issue.
Desperation had to be driving Evan. Why else would he reveal his final desire now?
“…an unparalleled opportunity to expand into the new milieu.” Luther intoned as though he had been coached on what to say.
“You mean millennium you idiot. If you’re going to try putting one over on the community, at least have the decency to use the correct terminology,” EV spit the words at him.
“Oh, come on, people. Get a clue here,” a voice rose above the rumbling crowd. “This is the best idea I’ve heard in years. Let Gilmore take over the whole damn town,” Allegra Worth, who bore a striking resemblance to Cruella DeVille, declared at a higher volume than Chloe had ever heard her use before.
When she opened her mouth to add more to the comment, Allegra’s husband Ashton pinned her with a glare. Undeterred, she opened her mouth to make another comment, but was stopped by her husband rising to his feet and pulling her along with him. At first she stood her ground; but, after another pointed look, she fell into line and followed him out.
Evan puffed up at the vote of confidence until EV turned her attention on him. “I know you’re the one behind this. You have an ulterior motive somewhere at the heart of this ridiculous scheme, but I’m telling you now it’s not going to happen.”
“I only want what’s best for everyone. Expansion is growth. Don’t you want Ponderosa Pines to be the best it can be? To bring jobs to your neighbors? To increase the tax base?”
“And you seriously think letting Gilmore annex our town is the way to do that?” She turned to the rest of the seated residents. “Do you understand what he is asking? Are you all aware Evan ran for mayor in Gilmore and lost before moving back to Ponderosa Pines? Now, all of a sudden he wants the two towns to become one; and you can be sure that Gilmore, being the bigger town, would insist we go with their form of local government.” That statement elicited a collective grumble. Ponderosa Pines was proud of its Selectman system.
“Think about it. Each and every one of you would lose your voice in town decisions unless one of our own became mayor. Evan has already expressed an interest in the job. He’s betting with all of us behind him, next time, he’ll be elected.”
“That’s rich coming from you.” Evan sneered, “Face it EV; your mind went there that fast.” He snapped his fingers. “Because you’re just trying to protect your own interests. It isn’t enough for you to own more land than anyone else in town, you have to be in control of everyone, too.”
“No, Evan, that’s your agenda, not mine.” EV turned to address her neighbors and friends, “You all know me. I speak my mind but I have no interest in running the town. I’ve never accepted a nomination to any office. Ponderosa Pines may not be perfect; but as a community, we’ve always worked together and we always will. What possible good could come from losing our town status? Ask yourselves what Evan and Luther stand to gain.”
Nods of agreement showed her words had struck home.
“Now that the proposal is on the table, we have to see it through; but I urge you to think long and hard about whose interests you are supporting before you make any decisions. Our streets have always been safe; our crime rates the lowest in the state. Will putting Gilmore, and possibly him,” she pointed at Evan, “in charge keep them that way? Or will it line his and Luther’s pockets at the expense of our children’s safety?”
With a pointed look that Chloe easily interpreted as, “Stay, observe, and report back to me later,” EV strode from the room.
Dead silence descended on the meeting in the first moments after EV’s departure, then erupted into a dull roar as several townspeople left the Grange Hall. Those remaining broke into smaller groups, each trying to talk over the next. Amid the increasing noise, the town elders tried to help the three newly-appointed selectmen regain control by shouting for order.
Under normal conditions, the opinions of the elders, the very first Ponderosa Pines residents, carried authority—but tonight their voices dropped unheard into the din.
Chloe seized the opportunity to eavesdrop discretely and began to assess the room for the most interesting candidates.
Millie Jacobs and Summer Beckett lounged against a wall near the door to the hall’s kitchen, heads bent together and snickering. Chloe wouldn’t get any useful information out of either one of those airheads. They undoubtedly had already decided they wanted the opposite of whatever EV wanted for the community.
Jealous mean girls, that’s what you are. And you’re way too old for that crap. Chloe spat silently in their general direction while pasting a convincing fake smile on her face.
Not that EV had ever noticed, but Millie and Summer harbored a mutual grudge against Chloe’s closest friend just because each of their husbands had been colossally stupid enough to admit they found EV attractive. EV was the kind of women men noticed. With no idea of the undercurrent, EV had been nothing but nice to these women—had no idea they bore malice toward her since she had never laid eyes on either man in an inappropriate manner. Being a desirable woman didn’t make her a man stealer.
Noticing that the initial furor had finally died down, Chloe continued her evaluation of the room. A tall, muscular man wearing a rather impressive Fu Manchu mustache stood chatting with an older lady sporting knitted garments in varying colors. From the bright red beret perched jauntily on top of her head to the lime green and hot pink chevron print purse hanging from her shoulder, and with her beak-like nose, Priscilla Lewellyn looked, for all the world, like a tie-dyed chicken.
Fu Manchu’s name was Horis, and Chloe wondered for the millionth time if he was hoping the elaborate mustache would draw attention away from the way his bottle-bottom glasses magnified his eyes and his unfortunate given name. Oh, what she wouldn’t do to give this man a total makeover. Poor guy didn’t realize there was no such thing as “dress overalls”, or that he was actually a decent catch underneath the dorky exterior.
Horis was a farmer and a leader of the group of volunteers responsible for planning and organizing the community’s many gardens. He was also a sweet, soft-spoken man who loved Ponderosa Pines and would presumably fight to keep Evan from rising to power. Priscilla was pleasant but eccentric; and, while Chloe thought she would side with EV, something about the woman’s fluttery nature made her hard to read.
Weaving through the small crowd avoiding eye contact and putting out the I’m-not-here vibe, Chloe lingered near the pair until she caught enough of their conversation to conclude that neither would favor Evan as mayor. Nothing to worry about here.
As she peered across the room, she noticed a couple around her age who were fairly new to the community: David and Rhonda Erickson, she believed were their names. Both nondescript in appearance, they seemed like nice people who, judging by the protrusion from Rhonda’s midsection, would become a family of three within the next six or seven months.
I’ll keep quiet about that, Chloe thought, don’t want to put my foot in my mouth in case Rhonda’s just been sampling too many whoopie pies from The Mudbucket.
David’s arms were wrapped around Rhonda’s shoulders, his head bent toward hers with a worried expression on his face. They were so deep in conversation they didn’t notice as Chloe slowly made her way close enough to catch a few snippets.
“That woman seems like she cares, David. We moved here to get away from the materialistic world, not have to deal with some dictatorial mayor.”
“He’s the one who sold us on this town in the first place. We could tell he cared about it. Now, because of the words of one whacked-out hippie chick we’re going to crucify him?”
“That ‘whacked-out hippie chick’ was behind the grant that helped us buy the coffee shop.” Rhonda’s eyes flashed heat.
“How did you find that out? I thought the grant came from the town.”
“That woman is the town. She might gloss over it, and from what I can tell, she’s very low key about it—well, except for maybe tonight—but every good thing that has been built here, she’s had a hand in. Evan may have talked up the town but it was to make the sale. I could tell that from the beginning.” Something about him had given Rhonda the tingle since the first time she’d heard his smooth voice on the phone.
“Don’t you think we’d get more business if we were technically located in Gilmore?”
Rhonda cocked her head and stared at her husband. “How do you think? Is there some invisible wall between here and Gilmore that would come down once the two towns combine? Don’t you think it’s more likely our taxes would increase and we’d have a bunch of new regulations to follow?” Rhonda was the more business-minded of the two but David was an artist in the kitchen.
“All I’m saying is, let’s learn as much as we can about both of them before we take sides. We have more here to think about than just us.” Rhonda confirmed Chloe’s theory about her waistline.
As usual, the two ‘weird sisters’—who were neither weird, nor sisters, according to EV—watched with great interest but said nothing. So rarely did they speak up at a town event, Chloe wasn’t sure she had ever heard either of their voices. Their reputation for being witches was also something she had yet to confirm. EV said they were, but Chloe had her doubts. They would follow EV, though.
Having learned enough to see the majority supported the town remaining a singular entity, Chloe left the hall and headed home for some much-needed rest.
