True Believer(19)
Author: Nicholas Sparks

“Oh, never mind. I was just teasing. But let me tell you a bit about our little get-together this evening.”

Mayor Gherkin told Jeremy the location, then offered directions that, somewhat unsurprisingly, were heavy on local landmarks. No doubt Tully taught him everything he knew, Jeremy thought.

“Do you think you’ll be able to find it?” the mayor asked when he was finished.

“I’ve got a map,” Jeremy said.

“That might help, but keep in mind that those back roads can get kind of dark. It’s easy to get lost if you’re not careful. You might consider coming with someone who knows where it is.”

When Jeremy looked at him curiously, Gherkin glanced knowingly through the window.

“You think I should ask Lexie?” Jeremy asked.

The mayor’s eyes twinkled. “That’s up to you. If you think she’d agree. A lot of men consider her the prize of the county.”

“She’d say yes,” Jeremy said, feeling more hopeful than certain.

The mayor looked doubtful. “I think you may be overestimating your own abilities. But if you’re so sure, then I suppose my business is through here. You see, I came to invite her myself, but since you’re going to take care of it, I’ll just see you tonight.”

The mayor turned to leave, and a few minutes later, Jeremy watched Lexie finish up. She closed the book, and as the parents rose, he felt a jolt of nervous adrenaline. The sensation amazed him. When was the last time that had happened?

A few mothers called to those kids who hadn’t been listening, and a moment later, Lexie was following the group out of the children’s room. When she saw Jeremy, she headed over.

“I take it you’re ready to start looking through the diaries,” she surmised.

“If you have time to get them,” he said. “I still have a way to go with the maps. But actually, there’s something else, too.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head slightly.

As he spoke, he noticed the butterflies in his stomach. Weird.

“The mayor came by to tell me about the dinner tonight at the Lawson Plantation, and he’s not sure if I can find the place on my own, so he suggested that I bring someone who knows where it is. And, well, since you’re pretty much the only one I know in town, I was wondering if you’d be willing to accompany me.”

For a long moment, Lexie said nothing.

“Figures,” she finally said.

Her response caught Jeremy off-guard.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, it’s not you. It’s the mayor and the way he does things. He knows I try to avoid events like this whenever possible, unless it has to do with the library. He figured that I’d say no if he asked, so he finagled a way to get you to ask me instead. And here you are. And here I am.”

Jeremy blinked at the thought, trying to remember the exact exchange, but only coming up with bits and pieces. Who had suggested he go with Lexie? He or the mayor?

“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m in the middle of a soap opera?”

“Because you are. It’s called living in a small southern town.”

Jeremy paused, looking uncertain. “You really think the mayor had all this planned?”

“I know he had it planned. He might come across like he’s no smarter than a sack of grass, but he has a funny knack of getting people to do exactly what he wants and making them think it was their idea all along. Why on earth do you think you’re still staying at Greenleaf?”

Jeremy pushed his hands into his pockets, considering it. “Well, just so you know, you don’t have to come. I’m sure I can find the place on my own.”

She put her hands on her h*ps and looked at him. “Are you backing out on me?”

Jeremy froze, unsure how to respond. “Well, I just thought that since the mayor . . .”

“Do you want me to come with you or not?” she asked.

“I do, but if you’re not—”

“Then ask me again.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ask me to come with you tonight. For yourself this time, and don’t use the excuse about needing directions. Say something like, ‘I’d really like to bring you to the dinner tonight. Can I pick you up later?’”

He looked at her, trying to decide if she was serious. “You want me to say those words?”

“If you don’t, it’ll still be the mayor’s idea and I won’t go. But if you ask me, you have to mean it, so use the right tone.”

Jeremy fidgeted like a nervous schoolboy. “I’d really like to bring you to the dinner tonight. May I pick you up later?”

She smiled and placed her hand on his arm.

“Why, Mr. Marsh,” she drawled, “I’d be delighted.”

Minutes later, Jeremy was watching Lexie retrieve the diaries from a locked case in the rare-book room, his head still spinning. Women in New York simply didn’t talk to him the way Lexie did. He wasn’t sure if she’d been reasonable or unreasonable or somewhere in between. Ask me again and use the right tone. What kind of woman did that? And why on earth did he find it so . . . compelling?

He wasn’t sure, and all of a sudden, the story and the opportunity for television were nothing more than minor details. Instead, as he watched Lexie, all he could think about was how warm her hand felt when she’d laid it ever so gently on his arm.

Nine

Later that evening, as the fog thickened into a soupy mess, Rodney Hopper decided that the Lawson Plantation looked like it was about to host a Barry Manilow concert.

For the last twenty minutes, he’d been directing the traffic into parking spots and watching in disbelief at the procession excitedly making its way toward the door. To this point, he’d seen Drs. Benson and Tricket, Albert the dentist, all eight members of the town council, including Tully and Jed, the mayor and the staff from the Chamber of Commerce, the entire school board, all nine county commissioners, the volunteers from the Historical Society, three accountants, the entire crew from Herbs, the bartender from Lookilu, the barber, and even Toby, who emptied septic tanks for a living but looked remarkably spiffy nonetheless. Lawson Plantation wasn’t even this crowded during the Christmas season, when the place was decorated to the nines and free to the public on the first Friday in December.

Tonight wasn’t the same. This wasn’t a celebration where friends and acquaintances got together to enjoy each other’s company before the hectic holiday rush. This was a party meant to honor someone who had nothing to do with the town and didn’t give a damn about this place. Even worse, though Rodney was here on official business, he suddenly knew he shouldn’t have bothered ironing his shirt and polishing his shoes, since he doubted that Lexie would even notice.

He knew all about it. After Doris had gone back to Herbs to get the cooking under way, the mayor had rolled in and mentioned the awful news about Jeremy and Lexie, and Rachel had called him straightaway. Rachel, he thought, was sweet in that way and always had been. She knew how he felt about Lexie and didn’t tease him like a lot of other folks did. Anyway, he got the impression that she wasn’t all that thrilled, either, with the idea of them showing up together. But Rachel was better at hiding her feelings than he was, and right now he wished he were somewhere else. Everything about tonight left him feeling lousy.

Especially the way the whole town was acting. By his reckoning, folks around here hadn’t been this excited about the town’s prospects since the Raleigh News & Observer had sent a reporter to do a story about Jumpy Walton, who was attempting to build a replica of the Wright Brothers’ plane, one he planned to fly in commemoration of the hundredth anniversary of aviation at Kitty Hawk. Jumpy, who’d always had a couple of screws loose, had long claimed to be nearly finished with the replica, but when he opened the barn doors to proudly show how far he’d gotten, the reporter realized that Jumpy didn’t have the slightest clue about what he was doing. In the barn, the replica looked like a giant, crooked version of a barbed-wire and plywood chicken.

And now the town was placing its bets on the existence of ghosts in the cemetery and that the city boy would bring the world to their doorstep because of them. Rodney strongly doubted it. And besides, he didn’t honestly care if the world came or not, as long as Lexie stayed part of his world.

Across town and at about the same time, Lexie stepped onto her porch just as Jeremy was coming up the walkway with a small bouquet of wildflowers in hand. Nice touch, she thought, and she suddenly hoped he couldn’t tell how frazzled she’d been until just a few minutes ago.

Being a woman was challenging sometimes, and tonight had been rougher than most. First, of course, there was the question of whether this was even an actual date. Granted, it was closer to a date than what had gone on at lunch, but it wasn’t exactly a romantic dinner for two, and she wasn’t sure whether she would have even consented to something like that. Then there was the whole image question and how she wanted to be perceived, not only by Jeremy but by everyone else who would see them together. Add the fact that she was most comfortable when she wore jeans and had no intention of showing any cl**vage, and the whole thing became so confusing that she’d finally just thrown in the towel. In the end, she’d decided to go with a professional look: brown pantsuit with an ivory blouse.

But here he comes waltzing up in his Johnny Cash look, as if he hadn’t given the evening a second thought.

“You found the place,” Lexie observed.

“It wasn’t too hard,” Jeremy said. “You showed me where you lived when we were on Riker’s Hill, remember?” He offered the flowers. “Here. These are for you.”

She smiled as she took them, looking absolutely lovely. Sexy, too, of course. But “lovely” seemed more appropriate.

“Thank you,” she said. “How’d the diary search go?”

“Okay,” he said. “Nothing too spectacular in the ones I’ve looked through so far.”

“Just give it a chance,” she said with a smile. “Who knows what you’ll find?” She raised the bouquet to her nose. “These are beautiful, by the way. Give me a second to put them in a vase, grab a long coat, and then I’ll be ready.”

He opened his palms. “I’ll wait here.”

A couple of minutes later in the car, they were driving through town in the opposite direction from the cemetery. As the fog continued to thicken, Lexie directed Jeremy along the back roads until they came to a long winding drive, bordered on both sides by oaks that looked as if they’d been planted a hundred years ago. Though he couldn’t see the house, he slowed the car as he approached a towering hedge that he assumed lined a circular drive. He leaned over the steering wheel, wondering which way to turn.

“You might want to consider parking here,” Lexie suggested. “I doubt if you’ll find something any closer, and besides, you’ll want to be able to get out of here later when you need to.”

“Are you sure? We can’t even see the house yet.”

“Trust me,” she said. “Why do you think I brought the long coat?”

He debated only for an instant before deciding, Why not? And a moment later, they were walking up the drive, Lexie doing her best to keep the jacket pinched together. They followed the curve of the drive near the hedge, and all at once, the old Georgian mansion stood in blazing glory before them.

The house, however, wasn’t the first thing Jeremy noticed. What he saw first were the cars. Scores of cars, parked haphazardly, noses pointing in every direction as if planning a fast getaway. Numerous others were either circling the mayhem and flashing their brake lights or trying to squeeze into improbably tiny spaces.

Jeremy halted, staring at the scene.

“I thought this was supposed to be a little get-together with friends.”

Lexie nodded. “This is the mayor’s version of a little get-together. You have to remember, he knows practically everyone in the county.”

“And you knew this was coming?”

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it would be like this?”

“Like I keep telling you, you keep forgetting to ask. And besides, I thought you knew.”

“How could I have known he was planning something like this?”

She smiled, looking toward the house. “It is kind of impressive, isn’t it? Not that I think you necessarily deserve it.”

He grunted in amusement. “You know, I’ve really come to appreciate your southern charm.”

“Thank you. And don’t worry about tonight. It’s not going to be as stressful as you think. Everyone’s friendly, and when in doubt, just remember that you’re the guest of honor.”

Doris had to be the single most organized and efficient caterer in the world, Rachel thought, since this whole thing had been pulled off without a hitch and with plenty of time to spare. Instead of having to dish up food all night, Rachel was wiggling through the crowds in her best imitation Chanel party dress when she spotted Rodney walking up to the porch.

With his neatly pressed uniform, she thought he looked quite official, like a marine in one of those old World War II posters in the VFW building on Main Street. Most of the other deputies carried a few too many chicken wings and Budweisers around the midsection, but in his off-hours, Rodney pumped iron in his garage gym. He kept the garage door open, and sometimes on her way home from work, she’d stop and visit with him for a while, like the old friends that they were. As little kids, they’d been neighbors, and her mother had pictures of them bathing in the tub together. Most old friends couldn’t say that.

She took a tube of lipstick from her purse and dabbed at her lips, conscious of the soft spot she had for him. Oh, they’d gone their separate ways for a while, but in the last couple of years, things had been changing. Two summers ago, they’d ended up sitting near each other at the Lookilu, and she’d seen his expression as he watched a newscast about a young boy who had died in a tragic fire in Raleigh. Seeing his eyes well up over the loss of a stranger had affected her in a way she hadn’t expected. She’d noticed it a second time last Easter, when the Sheriff’s Department sponsored the town’s official egg hunt at the Masonic Lodge and he’d pulled her aside to tell her some of the trickier places in which he’d hidden the goodies. He’d looked more excited than the children, which made for a funny contrast with his bulging biceps, and she remembered thinking to herself that he’d be the kind of father who would make any wife proud.