Page 36 of All Autumn
Tonight Mary’s hair was . . . well, I guess turquoise was the best word for it. Who knew there was even turquoise dye? Her leather pants and knee-high boots matched the color of her hair, and her blouse was shocking pink. As usual she was loaded up with jewelry. I doubt there was another woman in her late sixties who could pull all that off, but somehow Mary did. Either that or our love for Mary blinded our eyes.
The moment Mary saw us, she shrieked. Mr. Ferguson, sitting on one side of her, and Dylan, sitting on the other, jerked their heads around to see the cause of her outburst. Actually, everyone at the bar turned their attention on us. Vincennes’s bar was where the locals preferred to sit, leaving the tables for the tourists. It had become a meeting place of sorts and also where you got to hear the latest valley gossip.
“Our heroes are here,” Mary shouted.
I looked behind me.
“I think she means us,” Connor murmured.
“Oh.”
Mary bounced off her seat and clapped, everyone else at the bar joining in. Okay, this was embarrassing. Even the tourists were craning their necks, trying to see what was going on.
“Where’s Beauregard?” she said when we reached her.
“Um, home.”
“Well, he’s the true hero. He’s the one that went after the bear. I’ve already posted about him onHappenings in the Valley, and you should see all the comments. Someone said Hollywood should make a movie, so I had a contest to name Beauregard’s movie. My favorite so far is Beauregard Saves the Senator’s Sister. Don’t they call that an alliteration, where the letters are all the same? So clever. If you changed Beauregard’s name to Sam, then it would be perfect.”
My head was spinning, but that wasn’t unusual around Mary. And I wasn’t changing Beau’s name. I glanced up at Conner. Amusement glittered in his eyes, and I could tell by his twitching lips that he was doing his best not to laugh.
“Oh, and don’t make plans for Sam on Saturday, sweetie.” Her eyes widened, and then she clapped. “Oh, I did it again. Sam, Saturday, sweetie. Get it?”
“You’re just too clever, Mary. What’s happening on Saturday?” I asked, although I was afraid of the answer.
“We’re having a hero’s parade for Sam.” She tapped her flavor of the month on his shoulder. “Come along, Gerald. I have much to do before Saturday. You can help. Do you by any chance know a movie producer?” she asked him as they walked away.
“His name’s not Sam,” I muttered to her retreating back. Connor and Dylan burst into laughter. “Not funny.” That only made them laugh harder.
“Doesn’t take much to amuse boys,” Jenn said, but I could see that she was having trouble holding it together herself. “Dylan told me what happened out there today. Sam really is a hero.”
“It’s Beau!”
She laughed, then went off to do whatever it was the manager of a restaurant did. I slipped onto the empty bar stool between Conner and Dylan. No sooner was I seated than Gloria Davenport, reporter at large—the only one—forThe Valley Newspopped up at my side.
“Naomi’s going to give the entire front page to Sam on Saturday,” she said breathlessly. “We’ve never had a dog hero before. We need you go bring him in tomorrow so we can take pictures and interview him.”
Had I heard her right? Naomi ownedThe Valley News—which was mostly gossip she and Gloria imagined in their heads—and sure, Naomi was sometimes batty, but she wanted to interview my dog?
From down the bar, Shelly, the chamber of commerce director, said, “Why don’t we give Sam honorary mayor status on Saturday?”
The whole town had gone crazy.
And his damn name was Beau.
20
~ Connor ~
Swear to God, I tried my best not to laugh. Failed at that and got a narrow-eyed glare from Autumn. Unable to resist, I leaned over and said into her ear, “You’ll want Sam to be all shiny and sweet smelling before his interview. I’ll help you give him a bath.” Wouldn’t mind helping her bathe, either.
She stabbed her elbow into my ribs, getting an “oomph,” from me.
On the other side of her, Dylan laughed. “Daisy’s really proud of her son, Sam.”
Autumn elbowed him, getting an “oomph.”
“Y’all”—she swept her hand around to include the entire bar people—“are all idiots.”
