Читать книгу Sweet Tibby Mack - Roz Fox Denny - Страница 7

“I SUPPOSE YOU LADIES are wondering why I called this emergency meeting of the Moped Mavericks.” Winnie Toliver, the group’s president, was a born leader. Energy all but crackled around her short gray curls as she paced the width of the Yaqui Springs recreation center.

The others immediately quieted.

“I’m concerned about our sweet Tibby,” Winnie said, referring to the youngest resident living in their retirement community. Each woman present had had a hand in Tibby Mack’s early upbringing. A few days ago she’d turned twenty-six.

“Gracious, Tibby isn’t ill, is she?” asked Mabel Sparks, a retired teacher who had scheduled Tibby’s home schooling from age ten through eighteen.

Yaqui Springs sat on the west bank of the Salton Sea in California’s Imperial Valley. Since it comprised mainly retired citizens, the county saw no need to provide transportation to elementary or secondary schools. Outside of Tibby, the youngest person in the loosely formed community was fifty-six.

“Tibby’s not sick,” Winnie assured the others quickly, halting the murmurs of sympathy that threatened to disrupt the meeting. “Since her grandmother passed on, rest Lara’s soul, Tibby’s scarcely stopped running. Each week the child takes on more chores.”

Ariel Pulaski patted her new perm. “You aren’t suggesting she close the beauty shop, are you? It’s so handy.”

“I know our men would hate to lose the coffee bar.” Rosamond Gordon, a former concert pianist, frowned. “And we’ve come to depend on the post office. You aren’t suggesting she give that up after Lara worked so hard to establish one for us?”

“Ladies, ladies, don’t get me wrong. I love all the services Tibby provides. Mack’s General Store has never been so well stocked. And who among us doesn’t appreciate the organic fruits and veggies that sweet girl grows? With more people moving here each year, Tibby’s newsletter is a blessing, too. But I ask you—what kind of social life does the poor girl have?”

“You’re right, Winnie,” chimed in Justine Banks. “Tibby hasn’t attended one of my watercolor classes this year. Claims she’s too busy.”

“Justine, I’m talking social life as in dating. As in getting married and having babies for us to spoil. My friends, our sweet Tibby is withering on the vine.”

“But Winnie…Ralph Hopple’s the only bachelor in Yaqui Springs,” Henrietta Feeny ventured timidly. “He’s sixty-five if he’s a day. Besides, do you think Tibby will want us meddling in that part of her life?”

Winnie leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Tibby mustn’t know. We have to find an acceptable single man between the ages of twenty-eight and thirty-five and somehow entice him to settle in Yaqui Springs.”

“Who?” wailed Mabel. “And how?”

“Mabel, you sound like an owl,” Winnie snapped. “I didn’t say it would be easy. It will require a lot of thought and possibly some scouting. Let’s meet again one week from today. I’ll expect everyone to bring workable suggestions.”

Rosamond waved her hand. “Couldn’t Joe and the others take her golfing more often over to Bogey Wells? I hear the resort hired a new golf pro.”

“Yes!” Winnie clapped her hands to cut through the excitement that had erupted. “Joe plays there daily, as do Pete, George and Fred,” she said, speaking of their mates. “We’ll check out the new pro. Although he’s fortysomething, I think.”

“My dentist is younger,” piped up Henrietta. “Thirty-eight. Maybe he’d like to move his practice out here from Indio. He’s talked about slowing down.”

“See.” Winnie beamed. “Already we have prospects. One week from today we’ll meet here and study our options.”

“LADIES, COULD WE HAVE quiet, please? We’ve got a lot to discuss. I realize our one week ran into three, what with Yale O’Donnell’s funeral and all. If we hadn’t stepped in, the poor man wouldn’t have had a decent burial. His daughter-in-law only showed up to try and get her mitts on his fortune. I’m glad he just left her a token amount.”

Ariel snorted. “He left the bulk to his grandson. If you ask me, Cole’s no better than his mama. She, at least, attended the funeral.”

Winnie shushed the women, who’d begun to chatter among themselves. “Cole is out of the country. You know he designs resort golf courses. After Henrietta and Justine give us their reports, I’ll tell you what else I dug up on Cole O’Donnell.”

Teased by the promise of juicy gossip, Henrietta stood. “I made a special trip to my dentist. Tibby drove me. Scratch him from our list. On the way home I pumped her to see what she thought of him. You know how Tibby never says anything bad about a person?” Henrietta paused. “She said he was stodgy.”

“She’s Lara’s granddaughter all right.” Mabel smiled. “Tibby was twelve when she asked me what stodgy meant. It’s how Lara described Ralph Hopple.”

Justine exchanged places with Henrietta. “We’re in trouble, ladies. There’s only one bachelor registered at the resort in Bogey Wells. A forty-year-old bird-watcher from Connecticut. If there’s a term meaning beyond stodgy, he’s it. And forget their golf pro. Winnie and I agree he’s nothing but a Don Juan.”

“Oh, no.” Rosamond wrung her hands. “I have worse news. I saw Tibby poring over brochures for a nutritionist’s program they offer at San Diego State. You don’t suppose she’s thinking of leaving Yaqui Springs?”

“Wait” Winnie silenced the twitters. “Don’t you want to hear the rest of my news?” Her blue eyes sparkled as she produced a creased golf magazine from her back pocket. Quickly she thumbed it open to a dog-eared page and made a circuit of the group so all could see.

“He’s a dish,” someone murmured.

“A dreamboat. Who is he?” demanded another.

Winnie fairly smirked. “Don’t you recognize him? This, ladies, is a grown-up Cole O’Donnell.” Once all the whistles and you’re kidding’s tapered off, Winnie let the silence drag out until she had everyone’s attention. “According to the article he’s still single. If I remember correctly, he must be just over thirty.”

“I see it says he lives in Hollywood,” interjected Justine, who’d grabbed the magazine. “He’s not…funny, is he—well, you know what I mean?”

A ring of anxious faces turned to Winnie. “No. In the fine print it alludes to one of his aims being to start a family someday. Now, hush and let me get to the good part. You know how Joe and the others fuss, having to drive to Bogey Wells every day to play golf?” Seeing all the nods, she continued, “Last night at dinner, out of the blue Joe says, ‘It’s too bad young Cole O’Donnell doesn’t come to Yaqui Springs and build a golf course on all that land Yale left him.’“ Winnie paused to let that sink in. “Well, I said, calm as you please, ‘You’re head of our recreational-development committee, Joseph. Get up a petition on behalf of the residents’ association and send it to Cole.’”

Mabel jumped to her feet and clapped. “Winnie, you’re a genius! I always said old age and treachery will win over youth and skill any day. As I recall, our Tibby used to be quite smitten with that boy. Let’s all go sign Joe’s petition.”

“Tibby may have been enamored of Cole once, but ten years is a long time. Until we see how they get along, mum’s the word,” Winnie cautioned as the Moped matchmakers left the rec center.