The Christmas Campaign

“You’re just getting here?” Jake said.

“Yeah, I heard it’s the early worm that gets eaten.”

Jake laughed. “We’ll see, cuz. We’ll see.”

Peter ignored him and turned to Betty. “I need to put something on the agenda for tonight.”

“And, I need a cup of coffee. How about walking with me to Cups and More. We’ll discuss it there.”

He checked his watch. “I wanted to see Hugh before it got much later.”

“Whatever you want to see him about can wait. I want to talk to you.”

“Let me give him a call and let him know I want time with him.” Peter dialed the mayor and Hugh gave him an eleven o’clock appointment. He’d changed his plans without hesitation because everyone at city hall knew that since the mayor’s heart attack, Betty Atkins ran the office. “He said I’m to bring him a white chocolate mocha.”

“Don’t you dare. Do you know how many calories there are in that drink? Over three hundred, not to mention the fat.” She peered at him. “He doesn’t know you’re with me, does he?”

“I didn’t actually mention your name.” Peter tried not to grin. She not only ran the office, she ran the mayor. The two had been an item for years now, and everyone wondered why they didn’t get married.

“We’ll get him a plain coffee,” she said grimly.

The aroma of fresh ground beans met them at the door. As usual the shop was full of customers, some already at tables with their coffees and others waiting in line.

He spied a table by the window. “You stake out our table, and I’ll get your coffee.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll take a skinny caramel latte.”

He wasn’t surprised the health-conscious city clerk ordered something low calorie. As he walked to the counter, several people greeted him, and he stopped to chat briefly with Mrs. Palmer about her health. The white-haired retired English teacher had been his favorite in school. When he turned to get in line, he bumped into another customer, making him almost spill his coffee.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and then he recognized Allie Carson’s brother. Make that Allie Jefferies. He didn’t know why her new last name was so difficult to remember. Peter held out his hand. “Clint, what are you doing in town?”

“I live here now,” Clint said with a smile. He transferred his cup and shook Peter’s hand, then nodded toward the counter. “I think she wants your order.”

“Don’t leave, yet.” He turned to the barista. “I’ll take a small Kona-blend, black, and a large skinny caramel latte,” he said, then shifted his attention back to Clint. “I thought you were the director of the Boys and Girls Club in Memphis.”

He shook his head. “I’ve taken over the farm since Dad decided to retire, and he and Mom hit the open road.”

“You’re kidding.” Why had he not heard about this before now? “Will you still be in town this afternoon? I’d like to pick your brain about something.”

“I have an appointment, but I’m free later in the week.”

“Sounds good. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Peter paid for the drinks and took them to the table where Betty waited.

She scooped a spoonful of foam off the top, tasted it and closed her eyes. “Now, that’s good.” Then she looked at him. “So, what do you want to put on the schedule?”

“I’m not sure. I’d like to hold a dance for teens New Year’s Eve. What do I need to do?”

“Apply for a permit tonight at the city council meeting. Where do you plan to have it?”

“In a building my grandfather owned. It’s part of the estate now.”

Betty sipped her latte. “Is it the same building Jake plans to use for a senior center?”

Peter nodded. So Jake had finished his proposal, and he would have left a copy of it with Betty. “Any chance I can look over his paperwork?”

She eyed him over her glasses, her green eyes boring into him.

“I’ll wait until tonight.”

“I think that’d be a good idea. So, do you want me to put your request for a permit on the docket?”

“Yeah, and I want to submit a proposal for a teen recreational center.”

“Got it.” She took another sip of her latte. “Don’t you two ever get tired of competing against each other?”

He’d like to explain that this time, it wasn’t his idea. Instead he said, “My grandfather always said iron sharpens iron.”

“Just don’t get the mayor all wrangled up in your deal—he hasn’t been feeling that well.” She hesitated, pressing her lips together. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

Peter resisted checking his watch while he waited for her to continue.

“I don’t think Hugh is going to run for office when the election rolls around.”

“Oh?” He didn’t know what that had to do with him.

“In fact, I know he wouldn’t if you would agree to run.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You’d make an excellent mayor.”

Him, mayor? He’d never considered the possibility before.

“I see I’ve taken you by surprise, but I wish you would think about it. I really don’t want Hugh to run, but he will unless someone he admires steps forward.”

“You’re serious. But why me?”

“You have all the qualifications. First of all, you’re electable. Everyone knows the Elliott name. And with a master’s degree, you’re well qualified, and your work in Washington, DC, speaks for itself. And here—you’ve done an excellent job with Social Services and getting the children’s shelter set up here. And then there’s your council seat. In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t thought about it yourself.”

Now that the shock had worn off, he had to admit the job appealed to him. “I’ll think about it.”

She squeezed his arm. “Good. Now go get Hugh’s coffee. I have to get back to work.”

Peter saluted and did as he was told.

A few minutes later, he handed the mayor his coffee. “Sorry it isn’t what you ordered, but I was with Betty.”

Hugh Gordon sighed. “That woman will be the death of me. It isn’t enough that she runs this office, now she’s telling me what I can drink.”