Chapter 26
I wish I could say the flight home was less scary than the one to Florida had been, but that would be a lie.
We hit turbulence somewhere over Georgia, and I think I squeezed poor Julien’s fingers so tightly that the tips turned white from lack of blood flow.
He didn’t complain, ever the gentleman, but he did mention that maybe the next time we took a trip, we should consider driving.
Next time.
I used to think The End were the best two words to be strung together in the English language, but I know now that Next Time is even sweeter.
Of course, before there can be a next time, there has to be a first time.
In regard to a first date, that is. We agreed it would be best to wait to start anything official until we weren’t sleeping under the same roof and until Julien could report our relationship status to human resources.
We are both now back in our separate residences in Tennessee, and he has a meeting with HR this morning.
He called me earlier and asked if I would have dinner with him tonight.
He’s supposed to pick me up at six o’clock.
Until then, I have things to do. Namely, getting my job back.
I pull into the parking lot of the main regional library for our county.
The building is quintessential Southern in style.
Redbrick with stately white columns supporting a portico.
Black shutters beside every window. Perfectly manicured landscaping inviting you to the entrance.
There’s a sugar maple in the front that is rivaling the brick in color, and if the cooler temperatures didn’t remind me I’m no longer in the tropics, then the poster child for the autumn season would have.
I grab my purse and exit my car, pulling my cardigan more tightly around myself to ward off the slight chill in the air.
When I get to the front door, there’s a woman with a baby on her hip and a preschooler beside her who are making their way out.
I hold open the door for them, and we exchange smiles before I make my way inside.
The smell of books greets me like a warm hug, and I can’t help myself from taking in a deep breath.
The children’s section is right off the main entrance, and of course my gaze sweeps over the space.
They have it decorated in a woodland theme, with a giant fake tree as a centerpiece against the back wall and leaves hanging from the ceiling.
There are red-and-white toadstools for kids to sit on and even a small two-man pop-up tent as a cute reading nook.
Little stuffed animals are placed on bookshelves and in crannies for kids to read to.
One little boy has a stuffed raccoon tucked under his arm as he reads a Danny and the Dinosaur level reader in the corner.
As much as the scene calls to me to explore, I turn away from the children’s section and walk in the opposite direction to the circulation desk.
There are a bank of offices set in a small hallway behind the desk where the administrators work.
I should’ve called ahead and made an appointment, but I’m hoping Ryan will be available to see me.
“Can I help you?” The librarian greets me with a smile.
“Is Ryan Bailey in?”
“Let me go see if he’s available.” She disappears into the back.
I look around as I wait, noticing the shelf of new releases at the front and wondering if they have the new Toni Shiloh book in yet. Children’s books take up most of my reading time, but I like to slip adult books into the mix for pleasure reading as well.
“Martha? It’s good to see you.”
I turn back around and spot Ryan. He’s looking at me with guarded optimism. I probably should’ve kept him in the loop more regarding the fundraising, but in my defense, I’ve been a little busy.
“Why don’t you come to my office and we can talk.” He motions me around the front desk, and I follow him down the hall, where he stops and ushers me into another room. “Have a seat.”
This room is the size of an actual office, not the poor excuse of what he has to deal with in Little Creek when he works from our location.
Which means there’s plenty of room for me to pull out the chair and sit without having to suck in my belly or fear I’m going to get stuck.
There’s the added bonus of not having any fabric udders in the way this time too.
“It’s good to see you. How have you been?” he asks cordially.
“Good,” I answer. “Better after I give you this.” I open my purse and extract the check that Julien gave me, passing it over to Ryan. I know when he sees the number because his brows shoot to his hairline.
“You did it,” he says, his voice breathy in disbelief. “You were able to find a donor. Wait. Martha, this check is written out to you personally, not the library.”
I wave away his concern. “I’m going to sign it over.”
His gaze lifts to meet mine. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?” This had been the plan. Raise the money to save the library youth programs. To save my job. Why would I change my mind about that now?
He sighs. “This is a lot of money.”
“I know. It’s the exact amount you said we needed.”
He stares at the check, then back at me, using his free hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Have you considered what you could do with this kind of money?”
“Yes.” Budding Authors, Crafternoon, LEGO Builders, Homework Help. Every program can continue with this money.
“Martha, you’re a terrific librarian.”
“Librarian’s assistant.”
“That’s my point.” He frowns, as if my correction is upsetting him.
“With this money, you could go to a university and earn your degree. You’d never find yourself in this position again.
At Little Creek, yes, you work in the capacity of the children’s librarian even though no official title or position exists. ”
“I don’t need an official title.”
He sets the check down and regards me. “Don’t you ever feel taken advantage of?
You aren’t making near enough money for the work you do, you don’t have the job security you deserve, and you’re basically stuck because there aren’t many other libraries that would let you do the work you do without the diploma behind your name.
” He leans forward. “Right now, you have an opportunity. You can use this money to get an education, or as a down payment on a house, or, I don’t know, invest it. It’s yours.”
I sit back in the chair, stunned. I never thought in a million years that Ryan would try to talk me out of making this donation.
He’s right, though. I could do any of those things.
Except this money was never supposed to be mine in the first place.
It was always supposed to go to support the kids of Little Creek.
The check on his desk catches my eye. I lean forward and snatch it, along with a pen sitting beside his keyboard. Flipping the check over, I hold the pen poised. “Who should I make it out to?”
He lifts his gaze from the check to meet my eyes.
“There’s something else you should know.
The board of trustees is meeting again next week.
I’ll get your reinstatement at Little Creek on the agenda, but .
. .” He runs a frustrated hand down his face.
“Look, I know I made it sound like a done deal. Raise the money, get your job back. I swear, I thought that’s how it would go down. ”
That same foreboding as the last time I sat in an office with this man curdles my stomach.
He must see the look on my face because he reaches out with both hands as if he can block the thoughts swirling in my mind. “Now, don’t jump to any worrisome conclusions yet. It’s just some rumors I’ve heard floating around that I thought you should know about.”
I press a palm to my somersaulting belly. “What rumors?”
He winces, hating to be the bearer of bad news, even if it is just scuttlebutt at this juncture. “Just that some of the trustees might have other ideas on how to use any big donations that may come in.”
Like the one I’m about to sign over.
“I’ve heard talk of using incoming funds for maintenance repairs on other library buildings in the county so we’re not in the same position like we are in Little Creek.
Or cushioning the cost of the bookmobile.
Or purchasing new technology like hotspots and laptops.
” He sets his palms flat on his desk. “But it’s all conjecture at this point. Just talk.”
I nod, trying to appear like I don’t feel like the rug has been pulled out from under my feet yet again. I try not to think of the kids of Little Creek and how not having their programs reinstated will affect them.
The bookmobile is doing a lot of good for the underserviced communities around us. The funds will be put to good use there. Same with building needs and technology.
For some reason, the memory of Julien at Signal Point talking about his grandmother teaching him to look for signs from the Almighty pops in my head.
Is that what this is? A when-one-door-closes-another-opens moment?
The librarian door is slamming in my face at the same time Julien is pushing wide open the pathway to publication and being an author.
If this is some divine sign, then why does it feel so wrong? I want to slam my fists against this shut door. Rail against it and demand that it be opened again. For the kids’ sake.
“Martha, I know it seems like a setback, but don’t lose hope. The door isn’t shut.”
My head snaps up. How’d Ryan know I’d been thinking of open and shut doors?
The check is still in front of me. One hundred thousand dollars, in my name, that was never meant for me.
Maybe some other people would be tempted to keep it.
To use it for any one of the things Ryan suggested.
But I can’t. Even if I don’t get my job back and the kids are without their programs for the foreseeable future, the money was never mine.
I swallow past the lump in my throat, signing my name and then printing out pay to the order of under the signature. “Who should I make it out to?”
“You’re still going to sign it over? Even with knowing it might not save your job?”
If I talk, I’m going to cry, so I simply nod my head.
Ryan tells me, but he’s shaking his own head in disbelief as he does so. “I’m going to fight for you at the board of trustees meeting next week, okay? We need you on the team, Martha. You’re an invaluable asset, and I’m going to make sure they see that. Don’t lose hold of hope, all right?”
I nod, not at all convinced I’ll be able to keep my grip on that elusive belief. Sometimes holding on to hope seems as impossible as containing water in a strainer. But I’ll give it my best.