At First Sight - Nicholas Sparks [13]
She nodded. “That’s how they get people to come to the meetings.”
“Ah,” he said, thinking, Don’t pass judgment. It’s just a different world, that’s all. Who cares if no one you know has actually ever played bingo?
Noticing his expression, she smiled. “Don’t knock it. Can’t you see all the cars? Nobody ever came before they started playing bingo. They offer prizes and everything.”
“Let me guess. It was Mayor Gherkin’s idea?”
She laughed. “Who else?”
Mayor Gherkin was seated toward the rear of the building, wedged behind two tables that had been pushed together. On either side were two people Jeremy recognized as members of the town council; one was an emaciated lawyer, the other a portly physician. At the corner of the table was Jed, who sat with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. The largest man Jeremy had ever seen, Jed had a face that was mostly hidden by a beard and a wild mane of hair that made Jeremy think of a woolly mammoth. It was fitting, Jeremy supposed, for not only was Jed the proprietor of Greenleaf Cottages—the only lodging in town—but he also served as the local taxidermist. For a week, Jeremy had slept in a room at Greenleaf surrounded by the stuffed and mounted versions of a variety of creatures known in this part of the world.
It was standing room only; people were crammed around tables with bingo cards spread out before them, frantically stamping the appropriate boxes as Gherkin spoke into the microphone. A cloud of cigarette smoke hung like fog, despite the whirring fans above. Most of the people were clad in overalls, plaid shirts, and NASCAR ball caps, and it seemed to Jeremy that they’d pulled their outfits from the same bin at the local five-and-dime. Dressed head to toe in black—the preferred wardrobe of New Yorkers—Jeremy had the strange sense that he suddenly knew how Johnny Cash must have felt when he stood onstage crooning country-western songs at the county fair.
Above the roar, Jeremy could barely hear the mayor speaking into the microphone. “B-11 . . . N-26 . . .”
With every number called, the crowd grew louder. Those who weren’t lucky enough to have a table were propping the cards against the windowsills and walls; baskets of hush puppies were being mowed through as if the townsfolk needed grease to calm their nerves in their rabid quest for victory. Lexie and Jeremy squeezed their way through the crowd and caught a glimpse of Doris loading more baskets of hush puppies onto a tray. Off to the side, Rachel, the restaurant’s rather flirtatious waitress, waved away the cigarette smoke. Unlike New York City, Boone Creek did not frown upon smoking—in fact, it seemed to be almost as popular as the bingo game itself.
“Are those wedding bells I hear?” Jeremy heard the mayor intone. Suddenly, the bingo-number calling stopped, and the only audible sound came from the whirring fans. Every face in the restaurant had turned to stare at Lexie and Jeremy. Jeremy had never seen so many cigarettes dangling from lips in his entire life. Then, remembering what people did around here, he nodded and waved.
People nodded and waved back.
“Out of the way . . . coming through . . . ,” Jeremy heard Doris call out. There were rustles of movement as people began pressing into one another, making way, and Doris appeared in front of them. She immediately pulled Lexie into her arms.
When Doris released her, she looked from Lexie to Jeremy and back again. From the corner of his eye, Jeremy noticed the crowd doing the same thing, as if they were part of the reunion as well. Which, considering their proximity, they probably were.
“Well, I’ll be,” Doris pronounced. Born and bred in the South, she sounded as if she were pronouncing the letters L-I-B. “I didn’t expect you home until a little later.”
Lexie nodded toward Jeremy. “You can thank lead-foot here. He regards the speed limit as more of a guideline than an actual rule.”
“Good for you, Jeremy,” Doris said with a wink. “Oh, we’ve got so much to talk about! I want to hear all about your week in New York. I want to hear all about