Page 72 of Our Now and Forever

The crowd grew quiet enough that Caleb thought maybe he’d crossed a line he didn’t know about. After all, he wasn’t a local, and probably shouldn’t be suggesting how these people should or shouldn’t run their town. But then Spencer broke the silence.

“We were so focused on the Ruby, we missed the bigger picture.”

“When you say ‘file some papers,’ what do you mean?” Lorelei asked.

“Establishing the group as a nonprofit would require filing with both the IRS and the state of Tennessee. That way anyone who donates to the society would be able to write it off on their taxes.”

“And the society wouldn’t have to pay taxes on the money raised,” Lowry added. “But how would this tie in or conflict with the Ruby committee? A group looking to preserve the history would have a lot to say about what restorations should and shouldn’t be done.”

This was true. Caleb had been involved in a restoration project in the French Quarter that turned into a nightmare when the New Orleans preservation group insisted on approval of the building’s exterior colors. In the end, the building had been painted three times, at an exorbitant expense, only to have the original colors approved in the end.

“That’s a hiccup I didn’t consider, but in this case, the committees would probably share several members, meaning the new society is less likely to become an obstacle. And from what I’ve seen at the meetings, preserving historical details are already a major consideration in the plans for the Ruby.”

“You know where you’d get pushback,” Lorelei said, looking at Spencer.

“We can handle Winkle,” he said.

Caleb hesitated with his fork halfway through his pie. “I thought Winkle was the one who wanted things to stay the same. Why would he be against a preservation society?”

“The auction business, remember?” Snow said, speaking up for the first time. “If these old houses stay intact, he has nothing to auction off.”

“So he’d cut up local history to turn a profit?” Caleb put his fork down. “How did this man get elected again?” With all the stories he’d heard, this was the one mystery he couldn’t solve.

“Same as every other politician with no business being in office,” Spencer said. “Tell ’em what they want to hear, turn up the fear, and make promises you can’t keep.”

“You going to run against him next year?” Caleb asked. Boyd might have been young for politics, but he was a born leader.

Lorelei choked on her pie while Rosie said, “I wish to heck he would.”

Pearl added her support, saying, “I’d vote for him.”

“I’m not running,” Spencer said. “Maybe someday, but not next year.”

His words put Lorelei at ease. “Thank God.”

“You don’t think Spencer would make a great mayor?” Pearl asked.

“He would,” Lorelei answered. “But you know as well as I do that once anybody gets into that office, they stay for years. Well, anyone other than Jebediah. And then the town acts like he belongs to them.” She took Spencer’s hand. “Call me selfish, but I want him to belong only to me for a while, before the town takes him.”

“I’ll always belong to you, Lor,” Spencer said, leaning in to give her a kiss.

“And I thought this pie was giving me a sugar high,” Pearl said, but the remark was accompanied by a wide smile.

Caleb gave Snow’s hand a gentle squeeze beneath the table. He’d floated the idea of the preservation society with positive results. Now if his second mission of the day went as well, this would be a Thanksgiving that neither of them would forget.

“I can’t believe he looks that good and he cooks. You are one lucky woman,” Lorelei said, as they watched Spencer and Mike do the dishes with Caleb as supervisor. Since the females had cooked, as Spencer had pointed out, the males got to clean. And Caleb’s pies had earned him a reprieve from getting his hands wet.

“Considering that sickeningly romantic display you and your fiancé put on during dessert, you have nothing to complain about.” Snow slid a finger along the rim of her wine glass, enjoying the view of Caleb putting away plates as Mike dried them. This wasn’t the country club set, and yet her husband fit right in. Much better than she would ever fit into his world.

“What are we talking about?” Carrie asked, returning from her fourth trip to the bathroom. Or was it five? The poor woman had reached the waddling stage.

“Nothing,” Lorelei said. “How is little Molly today? Did she like the meal?”

“She’s kicking up a storm, so she either hated it or wants more. I’m not sure which.” Carrie sank into the chair next to the sofa. She took several seconds to connect with the cushion. When Lorelei offered assistance, she said, “I can do it. Getting back up is when I’ll need a hand.”

“I hear you guys looked at a house,” Lorelei said to Snow. “Spencer and I have talked about buying, but neither of us want to leave Granny alone. And, of course, we can’t really afford it right now, with my business still small and his school stuff.”

Spencer was going to school online. Snow didn’t know what something like that cost, but it couldn’t be cheap.

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