She was right, and the private conversations in the restaurant were getting louder. Someone had to do something.
“How are we going to raise the money?” Tory called out. The noise in the restaurant hushed.
Again, Liam ignored her. “How many hours a week are we talking about?” he asked Jill.
“Maybe you should go up there,” Olivia urged Tory.
“If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay right here,” Mary threatened.
Tory wasn’t sure what she should do. What if Liam rebuffed her in front of everyone? She couldn’t understand why he was avoiding her questions, though, even if he wasn’t thrilled they were coming from her. It was obvious he’d brought everyone together to tell them his plan.
“Go on,” Olivia urged her.
“What is wrong with you?” Mary asked her. “You’re a Turner now, or have you forgotten that?”
A faint blush stole over Olivia’s cheeks. “Our families need to win this thing together, or it’ll rip us all apart. Is that what you really want for Noah and Maya—a feud?”
“We’ve had a feud for over a hundred years,” Mary said tartly. “Hasn’t hurt us yet.”
“It’s hurt us plenty,” Olivia snapped. “I think it’s time for it to end. More importantly,” she plowed on over Mary’s protestations, “Liam’s floundering up there. He needs Tory’s help.”
Tory thought Mary would contradict her, but it was clear Olivia was right. Liam had done a good job getting everyone together, but he was taking far too long to give his audience a plan to follow. She had a feeling she and Olivia weren’t the only ones who were beginning to think he didn’t have one.
Jill had gone on to explain how things ran when the unit was at full capacity. A couple of people slipped out the restaurant’s door as if they’d lost interest in the proceedings.
“He’s losing them,” Olivia said. “Get up there and do something, Tory!”
“How am I supposed to get through this crowd?” Tory watched the waitress fighting her way over again with Leslie’s milkshake.
“Climb up here.” Olivia patted the bench seat of their booth.
Tory nodded and stood up. “Good idea.” Here went nothing. Mary reached out as if to restrain her. Enid batted her hand away. Tory hopped up on the seat, took a deep breath and cried, “I’ve got an idea!”
Liam looked her way for the first time, shot her an almost imploring look and called out, “Jill, tell us more about the—”
A cowboy across the restaurant shouted, “Pipe down, Turner. I want to hear what the little lady has to say.”
All eyes in the crowded room turned to her. Tory took a deep breath and thought fast. She needed a really good plan. Trouble was, she didn’t actually have one.
Below her, Mary was shaking her head. Leslie’s brows were raised as if she couldn’t imagine what would happen next. Olivia looked encouraging. Enid—
Enid seemed to be having a hard time biting back a smile. Was she just here to rile up Mary?
“Say something,” Olivia hissed at her.
“We… we need to raise cash—fast,” Tory said loudly, buying time, her gaze traveling over the assembled crowd, most of whom were in the middle of a meal. They might have come to talk about the dialysis unit, but that didn’t stop them from wanting a tasty snack.
A tasty snack.
Everyone loved food, didn’t they? Tory straightened.
“Well, what’s your idea?” someone shouted.
“I still think we should let Jill—” Liam started.
“A cookout!” Tory cried. “A big cookout for the whole town! We’ll invite local restaurants and organizations to cook their signature dishes, ask other businesses for donations to purchase the food, ask for volunteers to help with setting up, taking down, selling drinks and so on.”
“I like that,” a woman called out. “It’s easy and something I can bring my family to.”
“I’d help with something like that,” a man called out.
“We could have dancing, too,” someone suggested.
“A bunch of us could make desserts—like a potluck.”
“Except you have to pay for what you eat,” someone else pointed out.
“That’s right. Like a big potluck dinner, but you pay to get in and eat,” Tory said. “We’re going to need volunteers to head up several committees.” She looked down at Olivia. “We need paper and pens.”
“On it!” Mary and Enid said simultaneously, both of them digging in their oversize purses and pulling out notebooks, legal pads and several pens.
Olivia rolled her eyes but grabbed one of the legal pads from Enid. “I’ll start coming up with committee titles.” She got to work.
“Everyone, when you’re done with your food, come on over and sign up for at least one committee and think about what you can donate. Every bit will help!” Tory called out. As quickly as Olivia wrote committee names on sheets of paper, Enid and Mary grabbed them. Each of them claimed space at the end of the table, spreading out pages so people could sign up. Several people got right out of their seats and made their way over. Soon there was a line.
“Set-up crew over here,” Mary shouted.
“Barbecue tenders over here,” Enid called.
Only then did Tory catch sight of Liam again. A very frustrated Liam. She dropped down off the bench seat, wanting to duck out of his view. “Liam’s pissed,” she told Olivia.
“Of course he’s pissed.” Mary handed a pen to a short man in a denim vest who bent over and signed his name with a flourish under the heading marked, “Entertainment Committee.”
“He’ll get over it. He likes you, you know,” Enid said.
“I doubt that,” Mary said.
Tory wasn’t so sure anymore.
“What about the administrator?” Noah asked the next day when he found Liam making a series of phone calls to all the volunteer organizations in town. “Has he approved of all this?”
“Nope. I figure we’ll present him with a done deal,” Liam said grimly, running a finger down the list to find his place again. He was soliciting donation pledges and gifts in kind to help with the larger costs of the fundraiser. Much
