“There are numerous camera crews outside,” Tammy said as the elevator doors closed, “we were prepared for crowds, but this is exceeding our expectations. We have opened the two adjoining ballrooms to give you more space. It may still not be enough.” She was confident, but I sensed a bit of frustration in her voice.
“I am sure it’s perfect,” Sadie said, smiling. She wrapped her hand around mine. “We appreciate all you have done.” I felt a tinge of guilt when I gave her hand a small squeeze. Her hand shouldn’t feel so comfortable — it just shouldn’t.
Tammy gave us each a key card, 701 for Sadie and 703 for me. I followed Sadie and Tammy into Sadie’s room. It was fairly large room with a small sitting area with four leather chairs surrounding a short, round coffee table. There was a bucket containing ice with and a bottle of what looked like champagne nestled inside. The bucket was ringed by a four-piece flute set.
“From the mayor’s office,” Tammy said, pointing at the champagne. We each took a leather seat and Tammy unfolded a piece of paper she had pulled out of her skirt pocket. “The caterer is already here, they are expecting to begin serving at six. The mayor would like five minutes, if you wouldn’t mind. His chief of staff said it would be strictly in support of the City Kitchen.” Tammy stopped there and looked at Sadie.”
“That will be fine.” Sadie shrugged. This was all getting bigger than we had expected.
“How long will you need?” Tammy asked Sadie.
“Pardon?”
“Your speech, how long do you need?” Tammy repeated. I don’t think Sadie was planning on more than a thank you. I could see her thinking within herself, trying to put something together.
“You can tell them about Richard, how it all started,” I said helpfully, “‘Sugar Magnolia’ and the number of people that get fed. They might as well know what it means to you.” Sadie smiled at me.
“Five minutes would be fine,” Sadie answered with confidence.
“And you Mr. Thaxton?” Tammy looked at me and I looked at Sadie.
“I am just here to support Sadie,” I said, “I wasn’t planning on saying anything.”
Tammy gave a small grunt of surprise. “You’re going to disappoint a lot of people,” Tammy said with a condescending tone. “A lot of people are expecting a song.” I looked between Tammy’s grim expression and Sadie’s suppressed grin.
“I guess I could say a few words. Maybe talk about the people I met and how the kitchen helps them.” I was thinking about Houser. “I could come up with a few minutes.”
Tammy scribbled something down on her paper and looked back up to Sadie. “I spoke with a Bob Townsend and he told me about ‘Sugar Magnolia.’ We are prepared to play it when the buffet opens if you like.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Tammy.” Sadie looked very pleased and I thought it would be a wonderful addition. Everything seemed to have a nice flow to it. Sadie could explain ‘Sugar Magnolia’s’ significance and it would lead right into it getting played. The only thing that could disturb that flow would be me saying a few words.
“I think ‘Sugar Magnolia’ should come right after Sadie’s speech, you know, right after she explains its meaning,” I offered.
“That makes sense,” Tammy agreed, “but when would you speak.” I wouldn’t, I thought. I threw that wonderful thought away.
“Maybe during dinner I could say a few words.” Maybe everyone would forget I exist by then. If not, I could just give everyone a great big thank you. Short and sweet. Sadie laughed. She knew exactly what I was thinking. Amber would have really liked her.
“I think they are expecting more than a thank you,” Sadie said. She knew me as well as I knew myself. It was unsettling to hear her divine my thoughts.
“I can talk about Houser and Maggie,” I offered, “how much it all means to them. How much it means to me that they have a warm meal.” It was off the top of my head, but would be easy to talk about. The truth usually is.
“Perfect,” Sadie said, her face going compassionate, “they need to know why they are donating and I can’t think of a better way.” I smiled. It wasn’t a smile I could control. Pleasing Sadie was becoming important.
“I’ll make sure everything is set, and someone will come to get you around 5:30,” Tammy said, “sure you won’t sing?”
“I haven’t prepared anything,” I said with a sorrowful shrug. Tammy left, promising the night will go smoothly as possible. Her confidence left us feeling pretty good about the event.
“I’m sorry you had to come out of hiding,” Sadie said once we were alone.
“You’re worth it.” I meant to say the City Kitchen was worth it. My mouth was moving faster than my brain. I stood quickly and headed for the door, “I’m going to get cleaned up,” I offered as an excuse. I didn’t want to look back, blood had flooded my face again. It took a few deep breaths behind the closed door of my room to calm myself. I sat on the bed and stared at the wall, wondering how Sadie mixed with all my guilt. I closed my eyes and fell back on the bed. I lay there until there was a knock on the door. It was 5:30.
I met Sadie in the hall. She looked at me with kind eyes. The kind that didn’t look away from the shame I was feeling. The kind that begged to share the guilt. Those kinds of kind eyes. She held out her hand and I took it. This time she pulled me close as we headed toward the elevator. She raised on her tip toes.
“You’re worth it too,” Sadie whispered in my ear. I didn’t feel like I was. I lightly kissed her forehead for the thought. She leaned into my shoulder and we rode the elevator down, more comfortable than I deserved.
The elevator opened on the first floor to a row of police officers and firefighters in their dress uniforms. A smiling official escort. The whole thing was way out of proportion. We entered the huge ballroom to a round of applause. Sadie took it stoically; I cringed. She turned to me, smiled and mouthed “thank you.” The place was packed. Every table was full and many were standing along the walls. There were three buffet lines and we walked along the one in the center, toward the stage. I saw Tony Berkhard looking good in his dress blues with his wife on his arm. I felt ridiculous, but I stepped over to him as we passed and shook his hand. He had done a lot and at least my thanks were in order.
“This is my wife, Rebecca,” Tony introduced his overly excited red-haired wife. I still didn’t understand what women expected from my unexpected fame. More than I obviously knew how to deliver.
“It’s wonderful to meet you,” I said holding out my hand. Rebecca laughed and wrapped her arms around me and kissed my cheek. A cheer arose and suddenly I had to shake everyone’s hand all the way to the stage. I also had to endure a few more kisses. I was beet red when I arrived at the stage. Sadie stood waiting, obviously enjoying my embarrassment.
I went to stand next to Sadie, just to the right of the podium. I turned to see a sea of people, all out of their chairs. The police officers and firefighters made up half the attendees. In the middle, off to the left, there were two tables filled with my ex-coworkers and boss, Doug Herzog. Some of them waving. Out of habit, I waved back. There were more cheers and I thought ‘screw it’ and waved to everyone. Up front, I noticed the Leach with his cameraman filming it all. My smile felt fake, it was hard to leave it on my face. I would never make a good politician.
I saw the mayor make his way onto the stage. His smile looked real as he approached Sadie and me. He shook my hand with his other on my shoulder like we were best friends. I was being used, but it was worth it if it helped the City Kitchen. He moved over to Sadie and kind of pulled her closer to me when he shook her hand.
“I understand Patrick Abernathy is causing you some grief,” the mayor said just loud enough for only the two of us to hear, “let’s see if we can put an end to that.” He winked at us. Both Sadie and I lit up with large, honest grins. I am sure it played well for the camera and made the mayor look good. I had no problem paying the price. Sadie just loved the support. The mayor took the podium.
“It looks like half the city is here,” the mayor yelled when he reached the microphone. The crowd cheered and the applause continued until the mayor asked it to stop with his hands. “Do you know what makes this city great?” He paused for effect, then answered his own question while pointing at Sadie, “it’s people like Sadie Millstead. The City Kitchen provides a safety net for all those wonderful souls who fall through the cracks of our great society. She doesn’t do it with tax dollars or by demanding concessions. She’s there every day unselfishly giving of herself with one mission in mind.” The mayor dramatically cast his eyes across the crowd. He was a speaker and damn good at it. “No one leaves the City Kitchen hungry,” he said it with gusto and pounded his fist on podium. The crowd ate it up. The applause was deafening and Sadie looked awfully cute with red cheeks. I didn’t need to fake my smile any more. I was proud standing next to her.
“Our proud police officers and firefighters know this. I see most of them right here.” The mayor cast his arm across the crowd to more hefty applause. “I see it in all your eyes as you open your wallets to support the City Kitchen. I am proud to be among you, to call you fellow citizens. I want you to know my office and I stand with you. As long as I am mayor, the institution Sadie Millstead and her late husband created will stand strong right where it is. No one will interfere with the support it provides.” The crowd went nuts again. I am not sure how many in the crowd knew what was going on, but the mayor just shut down Patrick Abernathy, on the record.