Chapter 12: The Diner

The Mill Road diner was packed by seven-thirty on Monday morning.

Jarrett had booked it for a press breakfast, and he had hung a Pelletier Commons banner above the pie case.

A reporter from the Dayton station stood by the window with a camera operator.

The mayor sat in the corner booth in his good tie.

Growers filled every stool at the counter, some of them still clutching the checks I had given them.

Jarrett stood on a chair in the middle of the room with a coffee mug raised.

Delaney sat beside him in a tailored white suit, perfectly composed, with one hand on his knee.

"Friends," Jarrett said. "Today we celebrate the future of Ashford Mills."

I stepped through the door.

The bell over it jingled.

Behind me came the board chair in her navy coat, then a man in a gray suit with a briefcase, then my brother and my father.

My father had walked in under his own power.

He had a bruised look around the eyes.

Dale had played him the whole recording on Friday, at Joanna's kitchen table.

Jarrett saw us, and his mug stopped halfway up.

"Mason," he said lightly. "Have a seat. We're about to start."

"Please start," the chair said. "I came for the speech."

She walked to the center of the diner and looked up at him.

He stayed on his chair.

"Mr. Pelletier. I'm told you are announcing a development."

"On my land, yes. Private land."

"Fine." She nodded to the man with the briefcase. "Then let me announce mine."

The reporter lifted her microphone.

The chair took a sheet of paper from her coat, and her voice rang clear across the diner.

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