Chapter 16 #2
I frown and glance around the kitchen. Every single person is now standing in the same position—backs straight, hands clasped in front of them, wearing slightly panicked expressions. And they’re all staring like they’re waiting for me to bite their heads off.
“I don’t need anything,” I assure them, attempting a friendly smile. Except for my future wife to stop being angry about a side mirror.
“He needs a time-out.” Mildred points at me.
“He needed a lot of those as a child,” Ethel says.
“Did he now?” Mildred pulls a stool up to the massive island.
“He needed less time studying and more time outside,” Norm says defensively.
I like Norm the best, I decide.
“I didn’t mean to break your car,” I say.
“Are you sure about that?” Mildred pats the stool next to hers. “You can come sit with us if you promise not to break anything else.”
I do, because I’m too curious not to, and I want to be part of whatever this is.
Ethel sets a plate of cookies in front of us, and the rest of the staff gives Mildred their undivided attention.
“Today’s library adventures are brought to you by the two high school kids,” she begins.
“Was it the one who always gets up to no good?” Norm asks, settling in the seat across from her.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Mildred’s eyes light up. “So this patron has been dating this boy for a while—”
“The same one she got caught in the family bathroom with?” Ethel asks.
“She’ll never tell,” Norm nudges her arm.
“Right, what happened this time?”
“Well, apparently one of my young readers has discovered spicy romance, and the two of them were sitting on the floor in one of the aisles, reading together.” Mildred pauses. “With their hands down each other’s pants.”
Norm laughs. “Cleaner than the bathroom!”
“Not by much!” Ethel gives his shoulder a playful shove.
Norm’s expression shifts to alarm. “Please tell me Dorothea didn’t find them.”
“Is she the one who thought we were having an afternoon delight in your breakroom?” I ask, probably so Mildred’s attention is on me for a moment, and so I can feel included.
Mildred gives me an amused look. “Is that how you interpreted her reaction to your being somewhere you weren’t supposed to be?”
I shrug. “Yes?”
“Hmm...” She turns back to Norm and Ethel. “Dorothea didn’t find them, thank goodness.”
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Ethel’s eyes are knowing.
“It sure was.”
“What did you do?” Myrna, one of the part-time kitchen staff, takes a seat at the island, and Ethel passes her the cookies.
Everyone is so relaxed and happy, waiting for Mildred to continue with story time.
“I’m sad to say neither of them got their happy ending.” She presses her hand to her chest for dramatic effect. “However, after much embarrassment and some tears on the part of the boy who could not seem to get himself under control for quite some time—”
“Blue balls suck,” I mutter.
Everyone’s eyes are suddenly on me. The staff looks scandalized.
“Norm, back me up! They’re super uncomfortable.”
He nods. “Yes, Mr. Grace, you’re right.”
“Are you just saying that because you feel like you have to agree with me?”
“No, sir. It’s been quite a long time since I’ve had the unfortunate experience, but I can attest to the discomfort.”
“That’s very helpful information.” Mildred grins.
“Don’t get any ideas, little menace,” I mumble.
“Too late, villain,” she quips, then turns her attention back to the staff. “I sent them off with their own copy of the book, and my young reader is now signed up for our romance book club.”
“Hopefully the boy learns a thing or two!” Ethel giggles.
The room bursts into laughter and applause, quickly devolving into tales of teenage bad behavior.
Eventually we’re shooed out so they can finish preparing dinner.
“How often do you do that?” I ask as Mildred turns toward the stairs to the second floor.
“Do what?”
“Hang out with the staff.”
She pauses with her hand on the newel post. “Most days. I used to live across the hall from my best friend. I don’t anymore, and I miss that. They help fill the void.” She disappears up the stairs.
I don’t follow.
Half an hour later, Mildred and I are sitting at the dinner table.
I can’t shake my fiancée’s disappointment that Meems won’t be joining us.
Instead Meems is taking dinner with one of her friends in the guesthouse.
When I asked them both to join us, Meems brushed me off, saying I needed time with Mildred without a chaperone.
She spends time with the staff every day, she hangs out with Meems all the time, and she goes over to Madden’s to play board games.
But the only reason she’s willing to sit here with me is because of a contract.
“I don’t want you to feel trapped,” I blurt.
“This place is enormous, Connor. I hardly feel trapped.” She spears a roasted potato.
“That’s not…” I push my chicken around on my plate. My stomach twists uncomfortably. “Besides playing board games, what do you and Madden do when you hang out?”
She tips her head, eyes fixed on me. “What do you do with your friends, Connor?”
I drop my gaze. Embarrassed. Frustrated. I don’t socialize outside of hockey. I avoid hanging out with my teammates because I’m the bad apple. I don’t spend time with my sisters because it causes tension with our parents.
Mildred sighs, and it’s a soft, sad sound. “I beat him at board games. We watch stupid TV. We talk and laugh and complain about the weather, and we eat cheap food because Flip has a habit of buying things on sale in bulk. That’s what we do. Normal friend stuff.”
The uncomfortable jealousy I can’t seem to escape when it comes to Madden takes hold. Even though I took one of the people who means the most to him and claimed her for myself, he’s still nice to me—giving me pointers on how to make his best friend happy.
“You should hate me.”
Mildred pushes her chair back.
Of course she’s leaving now.
What did I expect her to do? Tell me I’m wrong? That I’m not making her miserable most of the time? That this isn’t the worst decision she’s ever made?
She rounds the table and stops beside my chair. She smells like strawberries and vanilla, and I want to ask her to stay, but I can’t. I won’t.
She takes my face in her hands and tips my head back, her soft chocolate eyes meeting mine, so full of sadness I could drown in the hurt I keep causing her.
“I don’t need to hate you, Connor.” She bends, and her hair tickles my skin as her warm, soft lips brush my cheek. “You do it enough for both of us.”