Chapter 6
August “Lowe”
Sitting across from Ms. Jenkins, I’d been surprised by her application. Surely, none of the students wanted to spend their semester with a churlish librarian, but like Moira said, every professor participated. What it would mean if a faculty member didn’t get chosen, I guess didn’t matter. Because here Lyra sat, staring at me a little too wide-eyed and pale for my liking. The gray tinge of her skin had me questioning the hospital’s discharge policies. How could they send a student who looked run over and spat out of a truck’s exhaust back to school?
If I’d had any say in the matter, I’d have requested she be admitted for at least a week. Even now her breath came in soft pants and every so often she took a deep breath. The pulse at her throat throbbed, probably from the medication they gave her before releasing her. “I’m sorry, Ms. Jenkins, I have to ask, are you okay? I know you were one of the students hospitalized.”
“How did you—” She glanced at her wrist where the hospital band dangled from her wrist and frowned. “Right. I feel like shit, to be honest.” The scratchy rasp of her throat hurt just to listen to her. The raw edge as if someone scraped her vocal cords with shards of glass then used salt to cure them.
“As you should, I suspect,” I replied. “Is there anything specific you need to take or limitations?”
She shook her head. “No. I have my inhalers and aftercare meds. The doctor was confident once they got the attack under control, I’d be fine. Doesn’t mean I’m not exhausted or my lungs aren’t hurting.”
“How about this then,” I said, “I’ll speak with your professors and have your midterms delayed until you’re feeling better.”
“The information I have said we’d have a week while investigators interviewed everyone and students found housing,” she replied. “Thankfully, I have everything I need with the exception of the physical textbooks and well... my stuff from home.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry for,” she said, pouring herself more tea, then offering some to me, which I accepted. “Unless you told him to start the fire.”
“No, I didn’t,” I replied. “Sentiments are still extended.”
“I appreciate the gesture then,” she said. “What else would you like to know, Dr. Barlowe?”
“Please call me Lowe,” I said, unsure why I’d used my stage name with a student.
“Only if you call me, Lyra,” she replied.
Once our tea was finished, I took her to the room she’d be using. Upstairs in my room, Jonesy slept. He’d taken a direct flight from Dubai to Fresno-Yosemite International Airport. By the time he arrived the poor guy couldn’t even keep his eyes open. I figured we wouldn’t see hide nor hair of him for at least another day.
There was another spare room down the hall from her I’d offer to Scott and Cole as well. I didn’t have to, but if this was the girl they’d both coveted, I understood their desires. She was a bit timid. Shy when praised. When I received her application, I looked through her file. She hadn’t settled on a major, but if the classes she took were any indication, she appeared to be a liberal arts major, something I could help her with.
“There are gift cards from the administration on the desk and a few locations already available to help students gather some of the items they lost because of the fire. Should you need anything else, order it and use this address to have it delivered. We receive packages twice a day along with mail,” I said, flipping on the switch to the room. “Decorate the space as you want. Nothing major though.”
“Whoa...” She stepped into the bare room and spun in a small circle. “Hardwood, dark colors. Kind of creepy gothic vibes.”
I’d said the same when I first explored the home. “Bathroom is shared with the room next door. Breakfast is at seven.”
“I’m up by six-thirty,” she murmured, taking in the details of the space. Her fingertips glided over the decorative wooden rosettes at the edge of the chair rail mouldings. “I could help, if you want.”
“What I’d like,” I said, “is for you to rest. You’ve had a traumatic experience. No need to push yourself.”
“Even when I’m sick, Lowe, there are chores around the house that need to be done,” she said, the rasp of her voice increasing. “I can’t lay around all day and do nothing.”
“Then think of the free time as a way to study and get ahead,” I replied. “Either way, we’ll reassess in the morning and if you feel up to it, we’ll discuss cooking duties. Deal?”
She nodded. “Deal.”
I left her in the room and went back down to the kitchen. With a glance at the clock, I knew if I called Scott now, they’d been on campus in less than twenty minutes. I also knew Lyra probably hadn’t eaten all day. I slipped my phone from my pocket and unlocked it. The chances of her staying awake after everything she’d been through was slim, even if she had steroids in her system.
The crash was coming.
I scrolled through my contacts until I came to the familiar name and hit call. By the third ring, Scott answered, and his jovial voice was a study in contrast to Lyra’s. “She’s here if you’d like to meet her.” I kept my voice low, sure if she didn’t fall asleep, she’d be down to grab a drink or rummage for food. Which reminded me, I’d have to put in another order to stock up. “I also have a proposition for you two.”
“Oh yeah?” Scott said, “What’s that?”
“Come by the house now, and we’ll talk. Bring pizza. The poor girl probably hasn’t eaten in a while.” Longer than a while if I had to guess.
“On it,” Scott said. “We’ll see you in thirty.”
I ended the call then scrolled farther down the list of contacts to Lorna. She chose me for the February spot in the first annual calendar the other day when I went in to pick up the contract for Driver. I just needed time to figure out the national holiday I wanted. Honestly, I didn’t have a clue for what suited the situation. I’d asked for a day or two to think about it and graciously, Lorna agreed. The month of February was a bit… On the nose. Most would want Valentine’s Day. The overplayed, over-commercialized holiday everyone knew about. However, there was Library Lovers’ Day which happened the same day and would be perfect for my brewing idea.
“August,” Lorna said, answering my call. “What can I do for you today?”
“I have a proposition for you,” I replied. “It’ll take some finessing, but I believe I can get it done.”
“Well, don’t be so coy about this idea of yours,” she answered. “Tell me what you’ve got.”
“Library Lovers’ Day.” Why not combine the two things I love the most? Making movies and working in the library. Sure, it might take a little time convincing Lyra to join us, but I had no doubt she’d do it, given the right incentive. “We’ve had a situation on campus and I want to donate some of my profits from the calendar.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“One of the dorms burned down and it seems at least five hundred students are without housing.”
She exhaled a breath. “So, what’s your plan?”
“A hot for librarian/student affair feature. With a twist. Scott Ellison and Cole Farmer will be joining me.”
“That’s a tall order to accomplish in a short amount of time. Are you sure you can pull it off?”
“I believe so,” I said. “I have the boys coming to my home as we speak. I’ll keep you posted when we’re ready to shoot.”
“I’d like to have a cohesive plan on my desk by the end of the week. Deadlines are tight. Don’t forget you still have a photo op.” I was ready for both. This was the last piece of the puzzle. As it was, I hadn’t been able to come up with an idea that hadn’t been done before. However, getting Lyra to agree, might take longer than a week.
“I understand. I’ll have a rough outline of the idea to you by tomorrow afternoon and a logistics framework the day after. Scott and Cole are resourceful boys. We both know once they set their minds to something, they can get it done.”
“See that you do,” she said. “If you can pull this off, I think you’ll have a hit on your hands, especially with the boys. Those two are making waves in the camming industry. Might be time to ask them if they want to expand after this.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll talk with you tomorrow. If anything changes, I’ll let you know as quickly as possible.”
After ending the call, I went back to Lyra’s room. I knew she’d be hungry especially after spending time in a hospital. Knocking on the door, I waited for her to answer. When she did, she had a pair of reading glasses perched on the top of her head and she’d scattered what books she had along with her laptop on her bed. Exhaustion hollowed her beautiful blue eyes while the gray pallor of her ordeal, still colored her cheeks.
“Sorry to bother you,” I said, awkwardness taking root deep in my gut. She was an attractive, curvy girl. Young enough, however, to be my daughter. I shouldn’t be staring at her with lustful intentions, because make no mistake I was. She wasn’t a plus-sized model or anything of the sort. She had an hourglass figure her clothes did nothing to accentuate. Thick thighs I wanted wrapped around my hips. Breasts that would spill out of my palms, and a soft stomach I could palm and know would cradle my body perfectly. Take away the sickness of the fire and her stunning features would glow under the lights of the camera. I knew the perfect shade of red lipstick she could use— Cruel Ruby.
“Not a bother,” she said, though the toll of getting up to answer her door, dulled her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“I made a mistake earlier,” I offered. “I gave you tea and forgot to ask you if you’d eaten since the fire. I can’t imagine hospital food is any good either.”
Her stomach picked the perfect time to rumble in agreement. A slight flush colored her cheeks, revealing the beauty I knew hid beneath the sickness and devastation of losing everything. “Food would be amazing.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Those snack bags didn’t do much for me.”
I could only imagine. “Well, I have a couple of friends coming over for pizza, I thought you might like to join us. If you feel up to it.”
She blanched. “Your friends? Doctor... Lowe, sorry, I’m only a student. I couldn’t intrude.”
I smirked. “Good thing they’re students too.” I had to think quick. “They come for tutoring. They’re in the Fire Academy and have regular course requirements. I thought you might like a friend or two. Perhaps three.” I gave her my best devilish grin.
“Oh, well, uh...” She ran her hands down the oversize sweatshirt she’d taken from the donation bin the staff had set up in the gym. “I’m not dressed for, you know, company.”
“They understand what you’ve been through,” I stated. “They’d even been there after the call went out.”
“Oh.” The realization dawned on her. “Ohhh...”
“I believe you also have Statistics with Scott Ellison,” I added.
She frowned in thought. “Maybe? I’m sorry. I’ve kind of kept to myself.”
“Don’t worry.” I touched her shoulder, worried if I squeezed, she’d shatter into a million pieces. Given the circumstances, I wouldn’t blame her in the least.
Her stomach growled again. “Pizza does sound good right about now.”
“Doesn’t it?” I grinned. “How about this, you finish studying and when they arrive you can tell me what you’d like to do. If you don’t want to meet them, you can take the pizza to your room and eat as much as you like. No questions asked or pressure added. Should you decide to join us, there’s always space in the TV room for one more. We’ll probably end up watching a game.”
She nodded. “I don’t want to put you out, though.”
“You let me worry about the logistics.”
“Okay, cool. Yeah.” She bobbed her head, swallowing hard. “I’d like that. Don’t think I’ll be much of a conversationalist.”
“Again,” I stated, “not a big deal. You’ve been through an extreme trauma. Your throat and lungs are damaged. They’ll take time to heal.”
“I really could’ve used my mom,” she said. “Pathetic right. I’m supposed to be standing on my own two feet, making something of myself and instead, I sound so small.”
“Speaking of which,” I answered, knowing she wasn’t asking for me to fix her situation, just listen, “have you called home to let them know you’re okay? I know the college sent out an email to all parents and students explaining what happened.”
“Not yet.” She glanced down at her hands. Those delicate fingers still caked with grime that wouldn’t come off with just one wash or a single shower. “If I said anything before I was released from the hospital, she’d tell me to come home. Or worse, she’d come here.”
“We don’t want that, then?” I hedged.
“No. God, no. I come from a family of traditionalist wives. They stay home, cook, clean, raise the kids, and take care of their husbands. I didn’t want that.”
No, she didn’t. I saw it with the way she lifted her chin when I met her. There was a need to prove herself. To keep herself above the rest. Whatever the “rest” might be. “Well, after dinner you should try to call her. If you need any assistance to reassure your mother you’re fine, I’ll be here to help.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re being awfully nice to me, why?”
I exhaled. Seemed trust was also earned with her. Good. So, I did what any other professor would do, I counted off the reasons she could lean on me. “You’ve lost everything but what you could carry in your backpack. You’re far from home. You’re waiting for assistance from the school to buy what you need to replace your lost items. The least I can do is talk to your mother.”
She sniffed then glanced at her hands once more, picking at the soot under her nails. “Well, I suppose asking for help once won’t be a big deal.”
I chuckled softly as the doorbell rang. “That’s the spirit. Now, do you feel well enough to join us or would you rather eat in your room?”
Lyra squared her shoulders. “I’d like to join you for dinner. If there’s room for me, of course.”
“Of course,” I replied.
Lyra followed me down the stairs to the front door. Her steps hesitant and her breathing rough and a bit gaspy. I should have left her alone to study and rest, but the thought of her going to bed for a second night without eating, sat heavy with me. I couldn’t do that to her. The doorbell chimed again, and I rolled my eyes.
Impatient knuckleheads.
I glanced at Lyra before opening the door. I really hoped she didn’t pass out on us. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she replied, forcing a smile on her tremulous lips.
“That’s the spirit,” I whispered, pulling the door too, revealing Scott and Cole, the remaining members of my hairbrained idea. “Welcome, gentlemen. May I introduce to you Lyra Jenkins.”