Chapter 31
No one can be sad when they’re circled by happy, excited children.
Little cherub faces shining up at you with sticky smiles and tinkling laughter.
Which is why I’ve made my entrance into the Little Creek library precisely five minutes before preschool story time.
Just long enough to swoop in, see what books either Evangeline or Hayley have prepared, and convince them to let me take over the read-aloud for the day.
Young voices hum in the otherwise quiet library as soon as I enter.
There’s gentle shushing reminders from parents to use inside voices, but three- and four-year-olds are difficult to contain.
I spot Daisy at the corner of the reading rug, spinning in a tight circle with her arms outstretched.
Malcolm sits on his mom’s lap while he does a peg puzzle.
The twins, Grace and Faith, have the blocks out and are trying to see how tall of a tower they can build.
Daisy’s spinning gets wider, and she knocks into the tower, the blocks tumbling down.
It’s chaos, but it makes my heart lift just a tiny bit out of the slog of self-pity it’s been stuck in since this morning.
I’m not unlike the little bird that Julien rescued from the mud all those weeks ago, except I haven’t gotten the strength back in my wings yet to fly again.
But maybe here, surrounded by my library kids, I’ll be able to shake off the glum.
“Martha!” Evangeline exclaims as she steps out of the closet where we store the children’s department materials. “I didn’t know you’d be stopping by today.” She sets down the felts in her hand and gives me a quick hug.
I squeeze her back, glancing down at the felts. There’s a giant mitten, a man and woman, and an assortment of woodland creatures. Looks like she’s chosen The Mitten by Jan Brett as one of the read-aloud books.
“I was just about to start story time, but stick around and we can catch up after, all right?”
“Miss Martha, you’re back!” Daisy spots me and sprints my way, not slowing down enough to prevent running headfirst into my legs like a battering ram.
Her arms come around my knees like a lasso, and I’m in danger of toppling over like the block tower.
She peers up at me with her guileless eyes. “I missed you. Why’d you go away?”
I run my hand over one of her pigtails, my heart squeezing. “I missed you too.” Bending at my waist, I whisper into her ear, “Can you be a helper and tell everyone it’s time to start and to meet at the rug?”
She nods and marches away as if she’s just been given the most important job in the world.
My smile is wobbly as I watch her scampering form before turning back to Evangeline. “Actually, would you mind if I took over story time today?”
“Really? That would be amazing.” She sags a bit as she says this.
“We’ve been so backed up since you’ve been gone.
I’m not exaggerating when I say this place can’t function properly without you here.
” She picks up the book and felts and presses them into my hands.
“Well, I’ll let you get to it. I have a cart of books that won’t reshelve themselves. ”
Evangeline walks away, and I move to the front of the reading rug and take a seat in the rocking chair.
A small sea of upturned, smiling faces greets me.
I know in my heart I’m right where I need to be.
Even if I don’t get my job back, I’m not going to give up on these kids.
The board of trustees can take away my paycheck and reduce the resources I can work with, but they won’t prevent me from showing up and volunteering my time.
“Hello, boys and girls,” I say in the voice I reserve for story time.
Engaged, inviting, and exciting. A tone to rival even Blippi or Ms. Rachel in its enthusiasm.
“I’m so happy to see you. Today, we are going to be reading The Mitten by Jan Brett.
How many of you wear mittens when it’s cold outside? ”
Faith and Grace’s hands shoot up. “Mine are pink,” Grace says.
“Mine are purple,” chimes in Faith.
“I wear gloves,” Malcolm says from the back of the rug.
I nod like this is the most important thing I’ve heard in my life. “Have any of you ever lost one of your mittens or gloves?”
“I lost one of mine, but then we found it in the couch cushion,” Faith says.
I nod again. “Those couch cushions can get very hungry. They like to eat lots of things.”
Faith giggles.
“Look at the cover.” I hold the book up. “What are some things that you see?”
“A bear!” Daisy shouts.
“A fox!” adds Malcolm.
All the kids start yelling out the animals on the cover.
“And this?” I ask, pointing to the small white mitten that almost gets hidden in the snow.
“A mitten!” they shout together.
“That’s right. Anyone want to make a prediction or guess what the story is going to be about?”
They look at each other and then me, shrugging their shoulders.
“Let’s read and find out, shall we?” I smile and turn to the first page.
I hold the book up so all the kids can see the pictures as I read the story. The children’s eyes widen like saucers, and they giggle as each of the woodland creatures fits themselves into that tiny mitten, all warm and cozy.
Pieces of me settle with each turn of the page.
Am I still disappointed? Yes, of course.
Am I still struggling with Julien’s role in one of those disappointments, emotions versus logic warring within me?
Much to my chagrin, also yes. But I’m also remembering that I was happy before the dream of being an author was simultaneously dangled in front of me and ripped away again.
I can find that happiness again here at the library, no matter what capacity that looks like in the future.
When story time is over, I help the kids find books they want to check out and make conversation with the parents.
Grace and Faith go back to building blocks, inviting Daisy to join them this time.
Eventually, all the kids filter out of the library, and I put away the felt board and felts, reshelving The Mitten in its proper place.
“Please tell me this means you’re back for good,” Hayley’s voice says from behind me.
I look at her over my shoulder. “That’s in the board of trustees’ hands. Ryan put my reinstatement on the agenda for next week, but apparently it’s not as sure of a thing as we thought it would be.”
“They can’t do that!” She stares at me in horror, outrage flashing in her eyes. “They have to give you your job back. You’re the best children’s librarian there is. There’s no way Evangeline and I can run this place without you.”
I push to stand from where I’m crouched in front of the bottom shelf. “I missed you guys too.” Her indignation on my behalf pushes a small smile to my lips.
“It’s more than just about missing you. We need you, Martha.” She gives me a tight squeeze of a hug and then grips my shoulders. “And why are you taking this so nonchalantly? What, now that you’re about to be a famous author, you’re not going to fight to stay a librarian?”
“That’s not—”
“Psh. I’m just teasing you. Come on. We have something for you.” Hayley marches forward.
“Have a good day, Mrs. Jamison,” Evangeline says from the circulation desk as she hands over a copy of Before I Called You Mine by Nicole Deese. “Enjoy your book. I loved that one.”
“Thank you, I will.”
As soon as Mrs. Jamison walks away, Evangeline turns to me with a big grin. “Congratulations!” she says as she pulls out a gift bag from behind the desk.
My throat tightens as I look at the glittery bag overflowing with tissue paper. “You shouldn’t have,” I manage to croak out.
Hayley dismisses my protest with a wave of her hand. “Fiddlesticks.”
“Open it.” Evangeline pushes the bag closer to me.
My nose starts that pre-cry tingling as I pull away the tissue paper, slide my hand inside the bag, and lift out a coffee mug filled with gourmet hot chocolate packets. On the mug is written This is what a published author looks like.
I lift my gaze, my vision swimming. “You guys” is all I can say before sniffing back my emotions.
“We’re so incredibly happy for you, Martha. You deserve this,” Evangeline says.
The words on the mug are like fingers picking at a very thin scab. “I’m not,” I whisper. “I’m not a published author.” I put the mug back in the bag and push the whole thing as far away from me as possible.
“Oh. Well, of course the publishing industry is glacier-slow so it’s not like we’re going to see your book on an order form next week or anything, but—”
“Squire’s closing. They aren’t publishing any of my books.”
Evangeline and Hayley’s eyes widen as much as the kids’ did when the bear managed to crawl into the little mitten in the book.
“I think you need to start at the beginning,” Evangeline suggests. “I feel like you just skipped ahead a few chapters and I’m left trying to figure out what happened in the plot that I missed.”
I tell them everything. Every little detail. Both the personal and the professional. Starting with Julien’s position on what’s right for King/Squire and ending with how he’d kissed me senseless in my apartment just this morning after delivering the news that I’m still smarting over.
“Let me get this straight,” Evangeline says.
“This man who seems well on his way to falling in love with you knows he has information that could possibly put a wedge between the two of you, and instead of keeping it to himself until he can play the hero and smooth everything over, rushes over to tell you so there isn’t any chance of you finding out from another source and risking further hurt and misunderstanding? ”
“Yes?” I’m not sure why I say it like a question, but I do.
“Counterpoint.” Hayley raises a finger. “Let’s not forget that he could have been the hero all along. What’s a grander gesture than keeping the imprint running just so he can publish Martha’s books?”
My friends are voicing out loud the two arguments going round and round in my head.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be the one to say this,” Evangeline says, “but real life can’t always be like a romance novel.”
Hayley and I stare in shock, mouths literally agape. The woman who thought it was a good idea to throw invasion of privacy out the window and matchmake patrons based off their reading history in the name of love is now saying life isn’t a romance novel?
“I know. I’m surprised too. But it sounds to me like Julien is trying to do the right thing all around. He’s trying to avoid the miscommunication trope and third-act breakup.”
Okay, this sounds more like the Evangeline Kelly I know. Always bringing everything back to her beloved romance book tropes.
“He still believes in you and supports you and is trying to make your dreams come true by contacting other editors. But he has to do what’s right for his family’s company too.
He’s trying to be both a good partner to you while also being a good leader to a smaller press that has to compete against the big five publishing houses. ”
“I want to meet him,” Hayley interjects.
“Saturday night. My house. Evangeline, you bring Tai. I’ll talk Levi into driving over from Turkey Grove.
Martha, I know Julien is probably busy, but make sure he knows he needs to take some time to relax too.
Kidnap him if you have to. I’ll make dinner, and we’ll hang out. Maybe play some games. It’ll be fun.”
“Don’t interrogate him,” I warn.
Hayley places a palm over her heart and dons an innocent expression. “Who me? I would never.”
Evangeline snorts.
Hayley grins mischievously. “If he’s hero material like Evangeline claims he is, then he has nothing to worry about, right?”