By the next afternoon, the whole town had gathered at the old Simpson Soda Shop on Main Street.  Several citizens clutched milkshakes as they waited in the warm afternoon sun, slipping candy and cookies to children to keep them quiet while they waited for Dallas Jean to appear and make her announcement.  Clementine Jane, holding her place at the front of the crowd, glanced around her and grimaced.  As her boss had predicted, several “big” media outlets had showed up–The Dallas Morning News, Austin-American Statesmen, Fox News, and the local ABC and NBC affiliates from the television station.

An uneasy feeling curling in her stomach, Clementine Jane caught Norman’s eye in the crowd and scowled.  He grinned, wiggling his fingers.

“Who are you waving to?”  Grayson straightened, smoothing his tie and flashing his white teeth.  He was here to support his wife, true, but he was also in this to win.  If he let Dallas Jean go to Europe with his credit cards, he’d be working until he was 200 years old.

“Clementine Jane,” Norman drawled.  “She’s in the front there, with the other reporters.”

Grayson’s smile slipped.  His brow furrowed and he crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at his daughter.  “She’s supposed to be at the library, studying.”

“I take it you found her last night?” Norman asked lightly, the lips twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“Dallas Jean and Adelaide found her around two at the newspaper office,” Grayson replied, shaking his head.  “Dallas was fit to be tied.  She was so mad she wouldn’t even speak to Clementine Jane.  She could barely look at her.  She had to write her punishment out on a piece of paper and have me deliver it to her with a stern warning.”

Norman whistled.  “That’s pretty bad.”

Grayson nodded.  “And when she sees Clementine Jane up there, front and center…” he trailed off.  “It’s not going to be pretty.”

“Where’s Beau?” Norman asked.

Grayson pointed to the corner of the soda shop, where his son stood with other members of the basketball team.  “He’s curious to see if Dallas took him up on his suggestions.  Bless his heart, I think the boy is the only one out of us with pure intentions.”

Norman only snorted.  Before he could open his mouth, a loud screech of tires ripped through the air.  The crowd whirled around to see a pink 1960s Mustang Convertible whipping around the corner.  Her wild red hair fluttering in the wind, Adelaide jerked the car around so it careened towards the center of the crowd.  Several people screamed and ran as the car screeched to a stop in front of the crowd.  Perched in the back seat wearing a rhinestone-studded pink leather jacket and matching skirt and crystal adorned pink heels, Dallas Jean Lee beamed and waved.  One arm was curled around a sleeping puppy, who only opened his eyes long enough to blink sleepily at photographers before collapsing back into sleep.

Grayson stood, his mouth open in shock.  Clementine Jane shook her head, rolling her eyes as she took a picture for the paper.  Beau turned bright red.

“This is better than I could have imagined,” Norman murmured, a smile crossing his lips.

Dallas Jean stood and waved, sending the crowd and press into a uproar.   “Why, I never thought so many of you folks would come out for my little conference,” she cooed, blowing a kiss as dozens of flashbulbs went off.  “How sweet of ya’ll!”

The shouts came fast and quick as the town shoved and jostled their way to the front of the crowd.  “Dallas, what’s the dog for?”

“Where’s the Bug at?”

“Dallas, what’s your big announcement?”

“Is it true that you and your husband have a secret bet behind the campaign?”

“Dallas, tell us what’s going on already!  What’s your campaign going to focus on?”

“Why do you have a puppy?”

Dallas Jean stood on the backseat of the Mustang, cuddling the puppy and beaming.  “I’m glad you asked me that, ya’ll.  When I first started this campaign for mayor, I’ll admit I didn’t have a clear vision of what I wanted to accomplish for our town.”  Norman snorted, and Grayson frowned at him.  “At first, my main concern was providing a safe and fair environment for the animals of the petting zoo.”

The crowd roared with approval.  The press scribbled wildly and another round of flashbulbs went off.

“Now that we’ve done that and all that’s left to be done is dull administrative work, I thought long and hard about what I wanted,”  Dallas Jean purred, stroking the puppy in her arms.  Fluttering her eyelashes, she tilted her head to where her son stood.  “And as my son reminded me, I was in a position to help people.  A real position to make a difference in the town.”

Heads swiveled toward Beau.  Ducking his flaming cheeks, he held up a hand in a half-hearted wave as his friends snickered.

“So over a piece of pie at Miss Maisy’s Pie Shop,”–Dallas stopped to let the crowd drool– “my manager and I talked about what we wanted to do.  As you know, I said before one of my main goals was to make sure no one was ever lonely again.  I think loneliness is a terrible ailment, particularly for the elderly in the community.  Loneliness leads to depression which leads to poor health which leads to all sorts of terrible problems.”  The crowd murmured.  The reporters shoved closer, their microphones inches from Dallas Jean’s nose.

“But I also wanted to help the animals in our community,” Dallas continued, stroking the puppy.  “And the ignored children, the children with absent parents or broken homes or who just need some extra love.  And over a delicious peanut butter pie at Miss Maisie’s Pie Shop, it came to me.”

She paused.  The crowd stared at her, breathless at her next word.  The microphones quivered, the television cameras zoomed in, fingers ready on the shutter button for the next shot.

Tossing back her golden waves, Dallas Jean beamed.  “I realized pie is love.”

Everyone gaped at her.

“Think about it,” Dallas Jean cooed, fluttering her false eyelashes.  “When you think of your grandmother, do you think about her or the warm apple pie she made every Sunday afternoon?  When you think of cold winter days, the first think you think of is your mom’s chicken pot pie.  There’s pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving, coconut cream at Fourth of July.”

“What’s pie have to do with loneliness and puppies?” a reporter shouted.

“Everything.”   Dallas Jean raised an eyebrow.  “Lonely people want home and a family, comfort,” she continued.  “Especially our older community members who have to live in assisted care homes, without family to visit them.  When it comes down to it, all anyone wants is a friend and a little comfort.”

Flashing two rows of perfectly white teeth, she shouted, “So we’re starting up the Dallas Jean Lee Pie Place– a center for young and old alike to bond over puppies and pie!”

The questions came fast and furious as the lightbulbs flashed.

“It’s a health hazard to have dogs in a bakery!”

“What if the animals get sick from the chocolate?”

“What if people are allergic to animals?”

“What if they don’t like puppies?”

“Everyone likes puppies,” Dallas Jean replied.  “But kittens and goldfish will be available too.”  She held up her hands, quieting the roaring crowd.  “Picture it:  a cafe at one end, where humans and animals alike can dine on pies (and pies made specially for dogs), cookies and cupcakes.  In another room, children can play with dogs available for adoption.  In another room, children and adults can chat and bond over board games and movies as they watch puppies play.”  She beamed.

“Not only are we providing a way from the young and old of our community to learn from each other, but we’re creating friendships to inspire a lifetime.  In addition, we’re giving dogs that would not have a home a chance to have a home.  Even if no one adopts them, they can stay at the Pie Place forever and have their family be all their new friends.  Children that have never had a pet or grandparent have one, even if it’s just for a few hours a week. And people without a family get to have grandchildren and pets without the cost or worry of care.  And everyone gets pie.  Because pie is just tasty.”

Dallas Jean beamed as the crowd cheered.  “Any more questions?”

A hand shot up from the crowd.  “What about the rumors of your being involved with a gambling ring created by your father?”

To be continued…

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Tomorrow we have a new Land of the Flowered Bed adventure!  Then a week full of more whimsical fun!  Stay tuned!