“Yeah,” Jeff said.
“I agree,” a woman piped up.
“How about that,” Tom put in, standing. He looked around. “Who’s for a deferral of the vote so the council can take a look at this referendum and find some blasted money to pay all our boys who wear a fire helmet?”
“Me!” Jeff shouted.
“That’s got my vote,” the woman yelled.
“Me too!” a new man called, standing up to do it.
“I’m in too!” a woman added, also standing up and doing it continuing to speak. “We don’t do this, what’s next? We ask all the sheriff’s officers to do their jobs volunteer too? That’s crazy!”
A gavel banged and Councilman Whitfield called, “Quiet!”
Tom wasn’t quiet.
He looked to Boston and remarked, “You know, Stone, just because a pretty girl prefers a firefighter to you doesn’t mean all the boys at that firehouse need to suffer for you bein’ jilted. Far’s I know, you got served this lesson at least once before. Learn, son. You may actually land a girl one day if you stop actin’ like an ass.”
Oh God, he was referring to Mickey and me.
Small town.
Someone kill me.
I felt my cheeks flush as I sunk in my seat because several eyes turned Mickey and my way.
Yes.
Somehow they all knew.
Someone…kill me.
“Cool, Dad,” Cillian stated under his breath but under it for a boy his age, which meant he did it loudly. “You beat out Boston Stone for Amy? Awesome!”
“Right! Quiet! Order!” Whitfield commanded on another bang of his gavel.
Before anyone could disobey, he trained his eyes again over his specs on Boston and continued speaking.
“I’ve had a quick read of this, Boston, and I’m sorry to say that the current referendum we’re discussing was communicated to the citizens of Magdalene for their examination four months ago via our usual procedures, which means anyone could access and study it thoroughly. That time allowed plenty of opportunity for any resident of this town to share with the members of this council their concerns or to be present at this meeting to have their voice. The names on this document represent a negligible percentage of the inhabitants of our town and thus, I must say, it really carries no sway during these proceedings.”
“Have you had a close look at those names, Whitfield?” Boston asked threateningly.
“I have indeed,” Whitfield retorted immediately, flicking the papers to his side so the woman sitting to his left could take them. “And I’ll take this opportunity to share with you news I hadn’t intended to announce until the next election, but Sue and I are moving to Florida next year. I won’t be seeking reelection. However, your implication that the names on that document, some of whom donated to my past election campaigns, would sway me while I’m sitting in this seat is most unwelcome.”
At his tone, a tone that said it was more than unwelcome, it was insulting, slanderous and entirely unacceptable, meant everyone quieted and those standing sat.
“I meant nothing of the sort,” Boston returned.
“You most certainly did,” Whitfield bit out.
I smiled, deciding I liked our head honcho Councilman.
He kept talking.
“Now, if you have nothing further, I’ll ask you to vacate the podium so if someone else has something they wish to say, they can do so.” He looked beyond Boston and through the gallery. “I’ll state, however, that you all have also had an opportunity to study the referendum prior to attending this evening’s meeting. We will not entertain a delayed vote or an alternate resolution to be put to the vote. If you feel the town should consider compensating the entirety of the members of our fire department, request a new referendum to be researched by the council and presented for discussion and vote at a future meeting. I’ll warn you, however, this town relies heavily on the goodwill and generosity of time and skills from our firefighting force and we’re all aware of it. If we could have afforded to pay them, we would have. But if this town is content with increased taxes in order to see to that, that also can be discussed.”
“We just want one boy, Whit!” Bobby shouted. His head turned the way of a woman who was highly attractive, had great hair, and I could tell was definitely fit even only seeing her shoulders and head. She was sitting one bench in front of him and down, looking over her shoulder at him, appearing miffed. Then he finished, “Or a girl! Whatever!”
Well, there she was; firefighter Misty.
“Then let’s see about getting you that,” Whitfield replied. His eyes went back to Boston. “Boston, please step down.”
Boston glared at him then turned, and without a glance at anyone he stalked down the center aisle. He didn’t wait for the vote. He walked right out of the room.
I couldn’t believe that Boston connived to put the entire town in danger because he was angry I was with Mickey.
But apparently, it was because he was angry I was with Mickey.
Which meant Mickey was even more right than I thought he was that day when he told me not to date the guy.
Brilliant.
“Anyone else have something to say?” Whitfield invited.
There was a low murmur of noise but no one moved to the podium.
“Excellent, then we’ll put it to the vote,” Whitfield declared. “All in favor of allocating further resources to the Magdalene Fire Department to hire a full-time salaried firefighter, say aye!”
There were five ayes.
I grinned.
“No nays, the resolution passes,” Whitefield announced. “Now, the next order of business…”
“So, now how you feelin’ about not takin’ my advice about that asshole?” Mickey muttered in my ear.
He didn’t sound angry.
He sounded teasing.
And patronizing.
I snapped my eyes to him and narrowed them.
He gave me an easy grin before he gave me a quick kiss.
I was still glaring at him when he finished, which set him to chuckling.
“Heard through the grapevine he had somethin’ up his sleeve,” Bobby whispered as Whitfield kept talking and both Mickey and I looked to him to see him again turned to us. “Good news, that’s done. Better news,” he smiled, “task force of the county councilmembers have full hiring authority when it comes to the fire chief. Nothin’ comes to a vote. And they do this volunteer themselves so they aren’t gonna spend months goin’ through some hiring process, which will end with them goin’ for whoever I recommend in the first place. This means, when I put you forward, you’re in, son.”