Free The Bikini Car Wash by Pamela Morsi Page B

high-back seats were arranged around the council table, each with a name plaque in front. Alderman Houseman, Alderman Gensekie, Alderman Brandt, Alderman Guthrie, Alderman Pannello. In the center was Mayor Gunderson-Smythe.
    Andi, Pop and Jelly were the first people to arrive. That was Andi’s fault. She’d been too concerned about being late. Now she was early which, for some reason, made her more nervous.
    Pop walked around the room looking at all the old mapsand town memorabilia on the walls. Jelly pulled a big photo album out of her bookbag and flipped through it contentedly.
    A staff person from the city arrived to put out copies of the agenda. Andi saw she was “Item 6.” She showed it to her father.
    “I’m worried that Jelly won’t be able to wait this long,” she told him.
    He shrugged, unconcerned. “If she gets restless, then we’ll leave,” Pop said. “You can take the bus or call me to pick you up.”
    Andi nodded. “You can’t let her applaud,” she said. “Maybe we should tell her that.”
    Pop laid a hand on Andi’s cheek. “Just let go of that,” he said. “Jelly is not going to mess this up for you. This is not high school. The real world is much more accepting.”
    “You’re right,” she agreed, glancing across the room toward her sister. “Jelly never really messed things up for me. I always managed to mess them up for myself.”
    “Not tonight,” Pop said. “Tonight you’re going to be a smash.”
    Andi took heart that her father would be right.
    Within a few minutes, the room filled with people, some well dressed, some barely dressed. There were senior ladies with hair that looked almost blue, and tattooed girls with hair that was definitely purple. Some men were in suits and some in shirtsleeves.
    Mr. Gilbert from Code Compliance nodded to her in a businesslike manner before taking a seat among the staff.
    As the council arrived, Andi silently assessed them. Mayor Gunderson-Smythe was a petite fortyish woman who reminded Andi of her kindergarten teacher. Brandt and Pannello wererecognizable as older versions of men she’d seen before, but wasn’t sure where. The one who really caught her attention, of course, was Hank Guthrie. Growing up she’d seen him a million times in the grocery store. She hadn’t realized he was on the council.
    “Why didn’t you warn me that Hank Guthrie is an alderman?” she whispered to her father.
    Pop seemed surprised with the question. “I didn’t think it would matter. Guthrie won’t put his own interests ahead of what’s good for the community. The downtown needs another business. If he goes against the idea, it won’t be personal.”
    Andi wished she had her father’s confidence.
    “Try not to put too much on this,” Pop added. “People can always smell desperation. It’s a fine idea. If it comes about, then that’s great. Just remember that a lot of excellent plans never come to be. That’s just how it is. The prayers unanswered are often the ones that prove to be the biggest blessings.”
    That was one of the things Andi most admired about her father, his absolute faith in ultimate good. But Andi preferred trusting what she could control.
    The meeting was called to order with the flag pledge followed by a lengthy discussion of the minutes of the last meeting and reports from various city departments. As the talk of stop signs, potholes and sewer pipe dragged on, Andi found herself stifling a yawn. She glanced over at Jelly. Her photo book sat open on her lap, but she’d laid her head on Pop’s shoulder. Andi was wishing she could take a little catnap as well.
    On the other side of her, a young man in a sport coat was rapidly texting on his phone. It was then that she noticed thatmost everyone in the room, under the age of sixty, was focused on a phone, PDA or BlackBerry.
    Why do these people come to these meetings if they’re not going to pay any attention, she wondered.
    But the idea that most people weren’t paying