Chapter 13
Ever since Denise had been a small child, it seemed like the only time she could make much sense of the world was when she was surrounded by books.
She’d been fortunate that, in a healthier time of life, her mom had been an avid reader and had insisted on the family home having a library.
Over the years, Denise had never tired of shutting herself in there whenever childhood anxieties or adolescent angst had gotten too much for her.
She’d frequented Oklahoma City’s public libraries and bookstores too.
In the first two years of college, before she’d dropped out to marry Carl, she’d spent more time among the university stacks than she had socializing or even in her dorm.
Even now, her apartment bookshelves boasted an ever-growing collection of new and vintage books.
Something about the dusty aroma of pages and the accumulation of other people’s written knowledge and imaginings had always soothed her down to the core of her soul, rekindling her hope and clearing her thoughts.
And after today’s confrontation with Maddox, she desperately needed some clarity.
That’s why she was now bumping along meandering, hilly roads, following her phone’s automated directions as it guided her to the Blueville Public Library.
It was a respectable reddish brick building situated beside a city park with a tree-shaded walking trail, and she immediately found its solid facade and picturesque setting comforting and serene.
Stepping inside, she relished the familiar bookish scent and the cozy warmth of the space compared to the chilly afternoon air outside.
Every square inch of the building seemed put to good purpose, from the stacks, to the small bank of computers with a copy machine and 3D printer display, to the colorful children’s corner where a woman read to three kids who were not quite school age yet as they sat at a little booth shaped like a train caboose.
As she approached a shelf of bestsellers in the front, a middle-aged Asian man in a snappy blue cardigan with a nametag that read Steven looked up from his spot at the nearby front desk and smiled at her. “Hi. Can I help you find something?”
She returned his smile. “No thanks. I don’t need to check anything out. I’m only visiting from out of town for a few days.”
Steven’s face brightened even more. “You came to our library on your vacation?”
“Something like that,” she answered with a chuckle. Then she gestured to the stacks of brochures fanned across the front desk. “It looks like you have a lot of events and resources here. It’s impressive. I was wondering what kind of literacy programs you have.”
He picked up one brochure and opened it. “This talks about our tutoring services, GED prep courses, and English language classes, and the free online tools available. It’s mostly funded through a county grant and staffed with volunteers.”
As she began scanning the brochure, he asked, “Are you involved in literacy work where you live, Ms.—?”
“Call me Denise, please. And yes, I’ve done some volunteering over the years in the OKC metro, but I also have plans to start my own nonprofit.”
“Oh really?” He adjusted his glasses and leaned forward with interest. “I’d love to hear more.”
They spent the next forty-five minutes discussing her ideas and his perspective as a small-town librarian and retired schoolteacher. They probably would have talked longer if Steven hadn’t needed to oversee a workshop.
Once she was alone again, Denise continued exploring.
Her steps were lighter than they’d been in days as she strolled through the reference section.
Discussing her nonprofit goals and getting new ideas had been so invigorating.
And walking around here in this small but thriving space reminded her of how she’d become passionate about those goals.
Despite the privileges she’d been born into, Denise had often felt like books and learning were the only real things in her life.
They were a gift and refuge she’d grown to want other people to enjoy too, especially the people life hadn’t given that chance to, like it had for her.
I may not have much on my own, but I think I’d prefer being poor to having so much power and wealth that I don’t even know how to act like a human being anymore!
Denise bit the inside of her cheek and grimaced. As much as she’d tried to distract herself from them, Maddox’s angry, stinging words returned to her mind with a vengeance.
Probably because there was some truth to them.
She ran her fingers over the spines of the books on the shelf before her, enjoying their solidness, until she pulled a book at random and shuffled to a nearby table.
Absentmindedly, she flipped through the pages, gazing at images of regional trees, plants, and flowers while her mind kept churning over what Maddox had said to her.
She’d had no idea Maddox had come to the hospital that day.
Their account of the encounter with Darby tracked, though.
Darby had been the one overseeing the acquisition of the hotel by the reserve, so she’d been nearby.
Most likely, she’d called Denise’s father to tell him about her being in the hospital too.
It wasn’t hard to imagine Dad telling Darby to deal with Maddox as quickly as possible.
Darby’s methods were probably colder than Dad’s would have been, but they’d still amounted to the same thing: throw money at the issue until it went away.
That’s how Dad had dealt with Denise’s breakdown. She could still remember waking up in the hospital and seeing him there. His face had been pale, and his words and manners stiff as he’d reached down and patted her arm.
She’d started sobbing when she’d seen him but couldn’t remember what she’d said. Whatever it had been, he’d only replied, “Calm down and get some more sleep, baby doll. Things will look better tomorrow.”
He hadn’t asked why she’d tried to do what she’d done.
He hadn’t asked how or what she’d been feeling in those moments before she’d taken all those pills, and he hadn’t asked how she felt now that she was awake.
If she’d thought those conversations would happen later, she would have been mistaken.
Clearly, Denise and her ugly, tangled knot of emotions and needs had been too much for him, and he hadn’t asked.
What he had done, though, was pay for her stay in the treatment center and therapy after that. It had been healing and crucial for her, but she’d never quite shaken the feeling that he’d been glad to outsource caring about her to other people.
Whatever the issue is, throw money at it until it goes away. Even if the issue isn’t an issue at all but a person.
And Maddox Daniels believed Denise was the exact same way. Because that’s how she’d treated them. From the moment she’d recognized Maddox, she’d been cold, suspicious, and high-handed, and they’d been nothing but kind, just like they’d been years ago.
Denise let out a low groan. This wasn’t who she wanted to be, but she’d fallen into the family pattern so easily.
Was that a consequence of working for the business these last two years?
Or was it a twisted defense mechanism against the memories and old feelings that seeing Maddox again had sparked?
Whatever it was. It wasn’t her. And she needed to fix things with Maddox. If it wasn’t too late.