succumbing to a case of nerves.
“Have you heard anything more from Jeff?” Joanna asked during a moment of relative privacy.
A cloud seemed to pass over Marianne’s face. “Nothing,” she said. “Not a word. The board advanced the money he said he needed. I wired it to him yesterday afternoon, but at this point I have no way of knowing whether or not he received it.”
“Don’t worry,” Joanna said. “It probably arrived there right on time. If it didn’t and he really needed the money, he would have called by now.”
Marianne nodded, but still she looked troubled. “The problem is, spending that money now is going to leave us strapped later on. I can’t imagine what Jeff was thinking when he asked me to come up with that much more. When he gets back, he may have to go to work just to help keep us afloat. Who’ll take care of the baby?”
“You’ll work it out,” Joanna told her. “It’s not the end of the world. Lots of kids grow up with two working parents.”
“But that’s not how we
Marianne Maculyea always appeared to be so calm and poised and completely all-knowing. It startled Joanna to realize that she already possessed intimate knowledge of something her friend and pastor was just beginning to learn.
“Welcome to parenthood, Mari,” Joanna said with a reassuring smile. “It’s
“Not until they’re home,” Marianne insisted. “I keep worrying that it we do anything beforehand, something will go wrong and the whole thing will fall apart.”
Just then Linda Kimball rose to her feet and once again called the group to attention. “Ladies today we have as our guest the newly elected Sheriff of Cochise County, Joanna Brady. I believe Sheriff Brady will be honoring us with a few remarks-a state-of-the-county talk, if you will, rather like the President’s state of the union.
“Unfortunately our first vice president, Marliss Shackleford, is ill today. Substituting for her and making both the Introduction and the official presentation will be our second vice president, the Reverend Marianne Maculyea.”
Before Marianne stood up, she reached down beside her chair and picked up a paper-wrapped parcel. “As you may suspect, I was asked to do this introduction just a few minutes ago. It’s a pleasure, however, since Joanna Brady and I have been friends for years. We met in seventh grade at Lowell School, longer ago than either one of us wants to remember. Not only is Joanna a good friend, she’s also one of the most resilient people I know.
“Most of you know the series of tragedies that, by for of circumstance, vaulted Joanna Brady into the position s holds today. As Arizona’s first and only female sheriff, we’ve all heard and read a good deal about how
“I’ve heard it said on occasion that she became a sheriff without really meaning to. In a way, that’s true. She set out on the very ordinary bath of becoming a wife and mother, but when she reached a fork in that road, she knew which path to follow.
“Those of you who haven’t yet seen the women’s club’s display at the Cochise County Justice Center may not know that it consists of a series of framed pictures-formal portraits, if you will-of all Joanna Brady’s male predecessors in the office of Cochise County Sheriff. If you were to study the pictures as a group, I believe you’d find the officers featured there to be a pretty tough-looking bunch of customers-every man of them. Some of them look more like desperadoes than they do like upholders of law and order.
“When Sheriff Brady gave us the snapshot she wanted us to frame and use, her chosen pose sparked some controversy. And so, before I make the official presentation, I’d like to ask Joanna herself to please stand and give us a little background as to why she selected this particular photo. Please help me welcome Sheriff Joanna Brady.”
To a roomful of warmly welcoming applause, Joanna stood up and made her way to the podium. “Thank you, Marianne. You’re absolutely right, I never thought I would be elected sheriff, but now here I am. You’re right, too, about all the emphasis on how ‘different’ I am. Bearing that in mind, maybe I would have been better off sticking to a more formal portrait. The one I chose, though, is of me when I was seven or eight years old and setting off- Brownie uniform and all-to sell my first batch of Girl Scout cookies.
“Some people may laugh to hear this, but selling those cookies marked a real watershed for me. I was scared to death. I didn’t think I’d ever have nerve enough to talk to people and to ask them to buy something from me, but I did. Some of the boxes of cookies went to people I knew, but most of them went to strangers – to people I met at the post office and the grocery store. Over the years I got better at it. The year I was in the seventh grade, I sold five hundred boxes – enough cookies be awarded the prize of two weeks of summer camp at Whispering Pines up on Mount Lemmon. Believe me, that’s a lot of Thin Mints.”
Joanna paused while the room filled with laughter. “Was that important?” she continued. “It must have been. Years later, I applied for a job with Milo Davis at the Davis Insurance Agency here in town. Milo asked me if I’d ever had any selling experience. I told him yes, Girl Scout cookies. I got the job. Last fall, when it came time to talk to strangers again the voters of Cochise County gave me this job as well.
“I suspect that there are lots of women out there who are just like me, women who, as little girls, made their first foray: into the world of work by selling Girl Scout cookies. Marketing those boxes of cookies is a very real job. It consists of deciding to do something, of setting a goal, and then making it happen.
“So when you look at this picture of a little girl with her Radio Flyer full of cookies, remember, that little red wagon is the vehicle that led to one I drive now-to the one that’s parked outside, at the far end of the parking lot. You’ll know it when you see it. It’s the big white Blazer with the light bar on top and with the insignia of the Cochise County Sheriff Department painted on the door. I see selling that wagonload of cookies as the beginning of the path that led me, inevitably to this one. And remember, too, the next time you buy a box of Thin Mints, you may be buying those cookies from a future President of the United States.”
As Joanna sat down, the women in the room rose to their feet, cheering and applauding. Gratified but feeling self-conscious, Joanna wailed for the applause to die down. II was then she caught sight of Terry Buckwalter.
A wall of smoky glass separated the dining room from the lounge area and the bar beyond it. Eleanor was right. Terry’s hair was different, but not that different. Joanna watched as Terry Buckwalter, accompanied by a man, sauntered across the room. The two of them took seats at the bar. From the hand gestures and movements that accompanied the conversation, Joanna could see that Terry was evidently enjoying her part of the animated conversation. In one short day, Terry Buckwalter had undergone a total transformation.
When the applause ended and Marianne made the official presentation, Joanna managed to stand and string together a few words of acceptance, but she did so without ever letting the two people in the other room totally out of her sight.
Once the ceremony was over, Joanna leaned over to Marianne. “Could you do me a big favor?”
“Sure,” Marianne answered. “What?”
“There’s something I have to do. Could you please give Eva Lou and my mother a ride back to town?”
“I’m in the Bug,” Marianne replied, referring to her venerable late-sixties, sea-foam-green V.W. “But since there’s only the two of them, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of room. Do you want to tell them, or should I?”
“I will,” Joanna told her. “Eva Lou probably won’t mind, but you know Eleanor.”
Marianne nodded. “What kind of car did you say your brother drives?”
“A BMW,” Joanna answered. “A five-forty-i.”
“The Bug will be a big comedown if she’s used to that, but she’ll get over it.”
Which turned out to be not entirely true. “You want me to do what?” Eleanor demanded.
“Shhh,” Joanna said. “Don’t make a fuss, please. I wan you to ride home with Marianne. There’s someone here need to talk to.”
“So talk,” Eleanor said. “What’s the big problem?”
“It’s police business.”
“Come on, Eleanor,” Eva Lou said. “If Joanna has some thing to do, it won’t hurt us to ride back home with Marianne.”
“We’ll wait,” Eleanor insisted.
“It’s confidential, Mother,” Joanna said. “And I have no idea how long it will take.”
“We’ll wait in the car.”
