Chapter Eighteen
The library is quiet when we enter. No great surprise there.
Sarah greets an older woman sitting at the desk when we walk in.
She nods to Sarah before her eyes land on me.
I recognize the scowl before I remember the face.
Judy Penbridge. She used to work in the school library when I attended.
She hated me as much as everyone else did, though, to be fair, she seemed to dislike everyone she came into contact with.
“Let’s go over here. Can I get you a drink? We have hot chocolate, coffee, or tea. My advice—go for the hot chocolate. It’s the only thing worth drinking from a vending machine.”
“Duly noted, but I’m good, thanks.”
“Okay. So you want books for Hannah? Do you know what she’s into?”
“I’m not sure. I’m hoping that if I take a few, we’ll find something she’ll like, and then I’ll know what to grab next time.”
“Sounds like a plan. How about I find a few I liked when I was her age, and we go from there.”
“That works for me.”
When she walks away, I get an idea and call her name, getting another scowl from Judy. “Get something with magic. Something where she can dive into an adventure and forget everything going on in the real world for a little while. She deserves that.”
“I think we all do.” She smiles sadly before heading to the children’s section.
I take a seat at the empty table in the center of the room and look around.
The place hasn’t changed much since I’ve been gone.
The library was consistently underfunded, and that was before everything went to shit.
I’m more surprised it’s still open than I am that it hasn’t been updated.
A huffing sound comes from the counter, so I lift my head and look at Judy.
She isn’t looking at me, but she’s huffing and puffing like she wants my attention.
There isn’t anyone else around, so I shrug and ignore her.
As much as I want to react, people like that thrive on the drama, creating a scene to flip it around and pretend you caused the problem.
I pick up a book someone left on the table and flick through it.
I skim what appears to be a recipe book that might have been in this library since the day it opened its doors in the 60s.
The food ranges from casseroles, hamburgers, meatloaf, and pot roast to chicken a la King.
The pictures are low-grade, but the food looks comforting in that stick-to-your-bones kind of way.
Fuck it. I decide to take it home and have a go at cooking something from it.
Without the generations of women who came before me around to impart their wisdom, I always felt nostalgic wonder from movies with big family occasions, where the women would gather and cook.
I’m not saying I’d necessarily want that.
Riggs has already proved to me a dozen times over that women don’t belong in the kitchen more than men do, just because we have vaginas.
It’s not like I can whip it out and use it as a cookbook stand.
Riggs could outcook me with patches covering both of his eyes, and I’m not ashamed to admit that. I do wish I had a recipe or two, though, that I could pull out and wow people with. I’d, at the very least, like to cook something special for my men.
“Okay, so this is what I’ve come up with,” Sarah says, making me jump when she places a stack of books down in front of me. “Most of these are age-appropriate, but this one I thought she might enjoy having read to her.”
I pick up the top book. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
“I loved this one when I was a kid, and when the movie came out, I was obsessed,” she says.
“This sounds perfect.”
“Great. Let me scan these for you. Do you have a card?”
“Not since I was a kid.”
“No worries, I’ll just issue you a new one.”
“Can I take this one too?” I show her the cookbook. She looks at it and nods, zero judgment in her eyes.
“Of course.” She carries them all over to the desk, where she leaves them so she can sort me a new card.
This, of course, leaves me in close proximity to Judy, who is half a foot shorter than I am, and still manages to look down her nose at me. I continue to ignore her until she finally speaks. “I will not have you corrupting Sarah with your witchy ways.”
“I need the blood of a virgin to sacrifice under the next full moon. If you’re offering, I suppose you could take her place.”
She gasps. “How dare you. I’m sixty-nine years old.”
I snort at the irony. “Being a virgin is nothing to be ashamed of, Judy. I’m happy for you to volunteer as tribute.” I mentally pat myself on the back for using a book reference in a library.
“How could you even know that?”
I lean over the counter and grin like we’re old friends. “We both know there’s not a man on earth who would ever willingly fuck you.”
She gasps again, clutching her imaginary pearls. “You worthless hussy.”
“If I had feelings, I’m sure that would have hurt.”
“I should call the sheriff on you.”
“Ooh, please do. Tell him to bring his handcuffs.” I wink.
I swear she goes a version of purple not usually found on a human. She reminds me of a grape, and I have the strangest urge to reach over and squeeze her head until it pops.
“You were an evil child, and now you’re an even more despicable woman.”
I lean closer and dip my voice. “Do you know what’s truly disgusting?
Knowing a child is being beaten and doing nothing to stop it or to raise the alarm and get her help.
It’s seeing the torment she is put through day in and day out from her peers, and yet turning a blind eye to it.
Will you still feel righteous when you meet your maker, and you have to explain why you let that shit happen? ”
“You were the devil’s spawn.”
“Well, shit, and here I thought we were all children of God.”
She forgets I was forced to sit through Sunday service with her in attendance, and dozens of others who failed to practice what they preached. Their hypocrisy was the hardest pill to swallow.
“Here we go,” Sarah says, walking back around with a library card in her hand. Her smile falters when her eyes jump from Judy to me. She brushes it off and starts scanning the books, making book small talk to me, effectively shutting out any input from Judy. “You want a bag?”
“I’m only carrying them back to the truck, so I’ll be fine.”
Judy huffs again. I clench my teeth as I offer Sarah a polite smile, ready to get out of here. I can already feel a headache beginning to form.
“No problem. I’ll walk you out.” She picks up the books from the desk and walks around it to stand beside me. “You’ve gone a little pale, actually. I think I’ll walk you back to the truck, just to make sure you’re okay.”
Judy huffs again, and I idly wonder if you can still huff without a tongue, before Judy pipes up. “I think she’s big enough and ugly enough to find her own way back.”
Sarah’s face flashes with anger. “My mother used to say if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
“Your mother was weak and died from a broken heart. If pathetic had a picture, it would be a portrait of Shelby Collison.”
Sarah flinches as if she’s been slapped. I reach forward to grab a handful of Judy’s hair, not giving a single fuck if I get arrested for popping one of her hips out of place. Hell, I’ll yank it off like it’s a chicken wing and beat her with it. But before I can reach her, Sarah steps between us.
“You don’t get it because you’ve never loved anyone but yourself,” Sarah says softly, her words falling like an anvil.
“You’ve never had someone love you so wholeheartedly that they’d give up their next breath so that you could have it.
I think I’d rather be pathetic like my mom than whatever it is you think you are.
I thought you were my friend. I looked up to you, and I defended you to others who thought you were twisted and bitter.
I’m disappointed I let you make a fool out of me. Maybe I’m the pathetic one.”
“Sarah.” Judy looks stricken.
Sarah shakes her head. “I’m going to walk Calliope to her truck, and then I’ll be back to finish the rest of the day. Thankfully, I’m off for the next three, so by the time I come back, I will have had time to adjust.”
“What do you mean by adjust?” Judy whispers.
“To you being nothing more than a work colleague.”
Damn, I think Sarah inflicted more damage with her words than I ever could with my fists. She pulls the books tight to her chest and heads for the door, leaving me to follow.
I hesitate, looking from Sarah to Judy, who is now the color of fresh printer paper, and sigh. “Apologize and mean it.”
“You don’t—”
“It’s obvious to me you care about her, and she cares about you, or you wouldn’t have been able to hurt her.”
She snaps her mouth shut. Even though she says nothing, the remorse is stamped clearly over her face.
“I don’t know what she’s told you about what’s happening with her friend group and whatnot, but she’s on the outs with them.
And now this? The thought of that girl being left all alone hurts me, and I barely know her.
It should be tearing you apart. If you’re half as pushy as I remember you to be, you’ll fix this before it’s too late,” I warn her as I head to the door that Sarah is about to pull open.
Judy mutters something, but I don’t catch it because the door is unceremoniously shoved open before Sarah can move.
With her hands full, she has no way to stop it from smashing into her.
It hits her head with a thunk, and she sways for a second before the books tumble from her hands and fall to the floor.
A distressed-sounding Judy shouts Sarah’s name.
I run, hoping to catch her before she hits the ground.
I might have made it, if Porter hadn’t come barreling in and knocked her flying.
I just manage to manipulate the air to slightly cushion her fall as she hits the ground with a far less jarring thud than she would have without me.
“You asshole,” I scream at Porter as he storms over to me.