BOB POCKET WAS a normal-sized man with an enormous round belly. Sitting in his high-backed banker's chair, it looked like he was trying to hide a basketball under his shirt. He drummed his fingers on it, and I wondered if it was as solid as it appeared. It was truly amazing, and I couldn't wait to tell Rachel about it.
"Excuse me?" he said. "You're the what?"
"Chief cook and handyman."
"Well, Mr.-"
"Creed."
"Creed." He started to sneer, then caught himself and turned it into a broad smile. "It's wonderful to have you here, you're going to love our little town. All the people are amazing, the weather's amazing, the beach is wonderful, and like I say, the people are-"
"-Amazing," I said. "I get it."
Bob Pocket seemed about to frown, but again, he found a way to show me a pleasant, though unconvincing, smile. "I'm really not at liberty to discuss Ms. Daniels' financial affairs with her employees. I hope you can try to understand that."
I passed him a notarized power of attorney. He studied it carefully before saying, "She's way behind, but we haven't begun the foreclosure proceedings yet."
"Why not?"
"Well, this is hard to explain to an outsider, but our little town has a way of attracting good luck. Good things happen here, things that can't be explained. We're just trusting that something wonderful will happen, and Beth won't have to lose her special inn. Wait, why are you laughing?"
"You'll have to excuse me," I said. "I've never encountered a benevolent banker before."
Bob Pocket chuckled. "Benevolent banker," he repeated. "I like that. I guess we are a trusting bank, with an optimistic board of directors. But after you've been here awhile it will make more sense to you. This community has been blessed, and it's astounding how much good fortune we've attracted lately."
"The luck of St. Alban's?"
"You've heard about it?"
"Dr. Carstairs used the phrase."
Pocket nodded. "Good man. We're fortunate to have him with us."
"He's new to the town?"
"Came here a year ago, out of the blue, right when we needed him the most."
"Uh huh. So you're what, hoping another miracle will occur, and this time Beth's B amp;B will be saved?"
"I wouldn't say miracle, but yes, I suppose we tend to rely on some sort of cosmic balance. We've had bad times in the past, and now it's time for a rebirth. All the signs are pointing to a happy, prosperous community. Beth has had her troubles, but she's due for some good fortune. She's an asset to the community and she's got a charming little business, and we're just hoping for the best. Maybe your arrival has signaled the start of her good fortune."
"How much time does she have?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Board meeting's next Tuesday." He paused, and broke into a wide-faced grin. "But even if something wonderful doesn't happen by then, I'm sure Beth will recover. Things have a way of working out in our wonderful town. Beth will be happy and prosperous again, you'll see."
"How much does she owe?"
"The total note is a million-six," he said, "give or take."
Beth had an interest-only note that ran about eight thousand a month. I knew she and Charles hadn't made any principal payments in more than a year. I also knew she was six months behind on her note.
Bob Pocket looked over the top of his reading glasses. "Perhaps you should consider finding employment elsewhere until things work out for Beth. There are golden opportunities everywhere, within the city limits."
I handed him a check for sixty thousand dollars.
"This should catch Beth up and take care of next month's payment," I said.
He studied the check as if it held a secret code. "This any good?" he asked.
"Call it in."
"Count on it."
"This check," I said.
"What about it?"
"This is between you and me. St. Alban's is a small town. I don't want anyone to know about this. Not even Beth."
"If the check is valid, Ms. Daniels will see it on her bank statement."
"By then it will be okay. In the meantime, I'm counting on your discretion."
"I'm just one part of the group," he said. "There are a number of local board members who will learn about it."
"I don't want any talk."
"I can't speak for the whole town," he said. "But I can assure you, no one will question it." He stood, took my hand and pumped it vigorously. "You see? It's just as I've said. Every day something seems to happen that can't be explained. This town attracts good fortune. Has, ever since-"
I looked at him.
He shrugged. "Well, quite a while now. We like to think of it as our turn." He turned somber a moment. "We had a long dry spell. You can't imagine."
Pocket stared off into space. I came prepared to hear him ask if Beth and I were dating, but the possibility never seemed to cross his mind, which impressed me. Surely he wondered why I'd take a cook and caretaking job if I had this type of money. I had two reasons, but planned to keep a lid on them. First, I thought the structure of the job would help stabilize Rachel's mood swings, and second, I wanted to poke around to see if I could find the source of the power I'd felt twice in this strange little town. Something was drawing me to stay in St. Alban's, and if the townspeople were going to be seeing a lot of me, it made sense to have a reason for being here. Like a job. After a while Pocket seemed to remember he had company.
"I'm sorry," he said. "What was I saying?"
"You were saying I couldn't imagine the dry spell St. Alban's has had."
"Oh, right. Well, to be honest, I can't really imagine it, either. But I've heard the stories, we all have. During the worst of it, our forefathers barely managed to keep their families alive."
"Why's that?"
"The town was cursed."
"Excuse me?"
His words had come too quickly, and he seemed to regret having said them. He hastened to add, "But that was then, and this is now."
"The town was cursed?"
He smiled. "Forget I said that, it's just an old wife's tale, a figure of speech. What's important is the tide has turned, and it's a new day, a happy time for our town."
Pocket sat back in his chair and filled the silence between us by drumming his fingers on his belly. Before long he had a rhythm going where each tap produced a hollow sound not unlike a housewife thumping a melon for ripeness. He abruptly brought his concert to a close and looked at the check again.
"This is valid?" he said.
I nodded.
"And you're a cook."
"Cook and caretaker," I said.
He winked. "Amazing, isn't it?"
"What's that?"
"We've been holding off this foreclosure for six months, hoping something would work out. We're days away from filing, and suddenly, out of the blue, you and your girlfriend just happen to show up in time to save Beth's Inn."
"So?"
"Don't you find that amazing? I mean, you being a total stranger and all?"
"I'm just protecting my job," I said.