in front of her husband’s plates and hers.
“Prepare to eat the best pulled-pork sandwiches you’ve ever tasted,” Koot called over his shoulder. He opened the lid on the barbecue and the scent of spices made Sky’s mouth water.
“No kids tonight?” Sky asked when Sadie moved a tray of condiments to make room on the table for a green salad.
“Marcus is coaching a junior baseball team at the boys’ club,” Koot said, returning to the table with a platter of buns, piled high with meat oozing a tangy-smelling sauce.
Sadie used tongs to set a sandwich on Sky’s plate. “Sam is helping his sister study for her bar exams. Poor Sam, he wishes he’d stayed in college instead of dropping out to get married. His job as a hospital orderly just pays the bills.”
“He could go back and finish his degree,” Koot said, whipping open his napkin.
Sadie defended their middle son. “It’s almost impossible with two kids, and tuition fees climbing.”
“I was lucky to finish college with some help from ROTC. Then I went straight into the police academy before getting called to active army duty,” Sky said. “A lot of guys I met overseas hoped they could attend college after their tours,” he added. “If they already had a family, it’d mean sacrifice. Maybe Sam will go back, though, if Koot keeps after him.”
“I could have helped him out financially if I’d continued teaching.” Sadie dished out salad and passed around dressings.
“You didn’t need the hassle.” Koot turned to Sky. “It got to where she was trying to teach kids who didn’t care. You know how many times we get called to that high school. I wanted her and Diandra out of there.”
“I picked up a packet of pretty high-grade weed at the middle school today.”
“Middle school? Dang.” Koot shook his graying head. “Can our job get any tougher?”
“Which reminds me. Apparently the school board voted to defund summer school. We’ll have to be extra vigilant about keeping watch on the buildings.”
Koot rolled his eyes. “Like that’s gonna be easy. If it didn’t affect my pension, I’d retire tomorrow.”
Sadie patted his hand. “Do it if you want.”
“Don’t you dare,” Sky put in. “Guaranteed our city manager won’t replace you.”
“It’s a shame everything’s gotten so bad in Briar Run,” Sadie said. “It’s never made sense to me how things began to slide, and then one downward trend led to another. You may not believe this, Sky, but Briar Run used to be as nice as this town. What you need to do is find a miracle worker—preferably a volunteer.”
“An army of them,” Koot flung out. Sky mulled over Sadie’s comment, which led back to his earlier thoughts about Annie Emerson. “Do you think one person could start a movement capable of turning a whole town around?”
Koot was quick to say no. Sadie seemed more willing to explore the possibility. “Briar Run didn’t fall into decline overnight. We stuck it out for a long time. What happened was like a row of dominos. The first one that toppled was economic. The factory closed, and that affected the livelihoods of more than half the workers in town. One by one more dominoes fell. No job, no money. No money, fewer taxes paid. Fewer taxes, fewer city services, and so on and so on. You get the picture.” She rose and collected their plates. “I’m going to the kitchen to get our dessert.”
“Briar Run is in a hopeless spiral,” Koot said after Sadie left. “I’m sorry you bought a house there, Sky. I know you took the job because it’s near your ex. Unfortunately, conditions in Briar Run are so degraded, her lawyers can legitimately harangue you. The best hope you have is to keep sending out résumés for any comparable job in a forty-mile radius of your ex and her new hubby’s horse farm. Ah, chocolate pie,” he exclaimed as Sadie returned. “My favorite. Let’s find a happier topic, so as not to give ourselves heartburn.”
Sadie cut each man a generous slice of pie.
Sky continued to worry the subject the others had dropped. “If I understand you right, Sadie, are you saying that if people do stuff like painting the exterior of our houses, new landscaping, making the outside more appealing, it won’t significantly improve their outlook? The city still lacks the economic development necessary to make folks less poor but wouldn’t this make a difference?”
She gave a shrug. “Yes and no. I’ve long been interested in the effect housing design has on alleviating poverty. After I left teaching, I took design classes at the community college. One thing we learned is that housing developments with homeowner associations that have strict rules for keeping up homes and yards have happier, healthier residents. But...they still need funding.”
Using the tines of his fork, Sky made a crater in the whipped-cream topping of his pie. “So...say, somebody got us all to gussie up our houses and maybe redo the park. Would that be enough to put a dent in crime? Will it encourage residents to get out and about?”
“Sounds like you wish a fairy godmother would wave her magic wand and turn Briar Run into utopia.” Koot tipped back his head and roared with laughter. “Dream on, my man. Dream on.”
Sky flinched. “Yeah, I see how the whole notion seems silly.”
As the trio polished off their pie in silence, Sky thought how ironic it was that he’d mentally tagged Annie Emerson the “curb-appeal fairy.” She would have to work magic, he realized, to accomplish even a tenth of the grandiose ideas she’d outlined.
Chapter Three
ANNIE’S HOUSE PROJECT had multiplied. Her enthusiasm sparked some of the results she’d hoped for. Mike Spurlock liked the looks of Gran’s Victorian after Annie’s painting was under way. Mike had a few days off from his business travel and, at Missy’s urging, borrowed Annie’s sander. Within a few days, the Spurlock home was ready to paint. Peggy Gilroy got the bug next. Their siding was shingle; a good washing left it in shape to be painted before Annie finished her trim.
All the homes had been a dingy gray. Annie chose Wedgwood blue with navy trim to give the street a pop of color. Since her house sat between the other two, it looked even prettier after Peggy painted hers cream with chocolate shutters and matching gingerbread scrollwork. Missy loved both of their color schemes, but she couldn’t make up her mind. She had Mike test sample paint on the back of their house until she settled on honey gold with dark green edging.
“I’m so excited about how good our homes look,” Missy said the afternoon Annie climbed down from putting the final touches on three cupolas jutting from her third story. The Spurlock home was only two-story and less ornate. Mike had whipped right through painting it.
“They do, Missy, and they’ll be even prettier after we’ve tackled the yards. That’s assuming my body holds out,” Annie added wryly as she rotated her shoulders. “Every night, what I wish for is some muscle man who’ll cart my ladder around for a few weeks.” The minute the statement crossed her lips, Annie pictured Sky Cordova, which jarred her until Missy spoke again.
“I could never climb an extension ladder the way you do, Annie. I get dizzy watching you. It was really nice of you to paint the upper section of George and Peggy’s place. His back really bothers him. Peggy’s gutsy for her age. She would’ve tackled it, you know.”
“I do know. In a lot of ways she’s like Gran Ida was.” Annie paused, battling back the sadness that descended whenever her grandmother’s name came up. “That indomitable spirit is why I was in denial when Peggy phoned to tell me Gran’s health was failing. To me she never seemed to age. I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
Missy threw both arms around her in an impulsive hug. “I’m sorry for reminding you, Annie. She brought us a casserole the night we moved in. Mike, his brother and I moved everything we’d stored in his folks’ garage into the house,