21. Chapter 21 Maggie #2
Before I can react, she runs back across the library and throws her arms around my waist.
"I love you, Maggie."
The words are so unexpected that they steal my breath.
I hug her tightly.
"I love you too, sweetheart."
She smiles as though I'd simply confirmed something she'd known all along.
Then she skips back to Eli.
Father and daughter disappear through the front door together.
The bell jingles softly behind them.
I stand perfectly still.
Mrs. Davis quietly closes the book she'd been pretending to read from across the room.
"I've been waiting for that."
I look over at her.
"For what?"
"For you to stop fighting it."
I sink into one of the reading chairs.
"I don't know what I'm doing anymore."
She joins me, settling into the chair beside mine.
"When I started teaching third grade," she begins, "I had a little boy named Nathan."
I smile.
"I wondered if this was going to begin with a story."
"The important conversations usually do."
She folds her hands in her lap.
"Nathan's father remarried when he was eight."
I listen quietly.
"The new wife was a lovely woman. Kind. Patient. She packed his lunch, helped with homework, and sat through every school program."
Mrs. Davis smiles at the memory.
"One afternoon Nathan came to school in tears."
"What happened?"
"He told me he was afraid his mother would think he'd stopped loving her."
My heart tightens.
"What did you tell him?"
"I asked him how many books he had checked out from the library."
I laugh softly.
"That seems like an odd question."
"He told me seven."
She smiles.
"So I asked if bringing home an eighth book meant he had to return all the others."
I feel the answer before she says it.
"He looked at me as though I'd lost my mind."
"'Of course not,' he said. 'I just have more books.'"
Mrs. Davis reaches over and pats my hand.
"So I told him hearts work the same way."
A quiet settles between us.
Outside, the afternoon sun slips lower across the square.
I think about Sophie.
About Stacey.
About Eli.
About the little girl who had just wrapped her arms around me without the slightest hesitation.
"I've been acting as though there's only room for one woman to love Sophie."
Mrs. Davis nods gently.
"And is there?"
I shake my head.
"No."
"There never was."
A tear slides down my cheek.
"I thought stepping back was the loving thing to do."
"I know you did."
She waits a moment before continuing.
"But Maggie..."
Her voice is gentle.
"Children don't keep love in separate little boxes."
I look at her.
"They simply gather the people who love them and make the room bigger."
The words settle into the deepest part of my heart.
For days I'd been trying to solve a problem that had never existed.
Stacey returning didn't require me to disappear.
It simply asked all of us to learn a new way to be a family.
And somewhere between a little girl's hug and an old teacher's story...
I realized I'd been writing the ending of my own story all wrong.
The library closes an hour later.
Mrs. Davis heads home with the speaker list tucked safely beneath her arm, reminding me for the third time to get a good night's sleep before tomorrow's council meeting.
"I'll try."
"Don't try."
She smiles.
"Actually do it."
"I'll do my best."
"I'll accept that."
She gives me a quick hug before stepping out into the evening sunshine.
The bell above the front door jingles one last time.
Then the library grows wonderfully quiet. I switch off the lights one room at a time, lingering in each space a little longer than usual.
The meeting room.
The reading corner.
The children's shelves.
For weeks I'd walked through these rooms worrying about everything that could be lost.
Tonight...
For the first time...
I notice everything that's been found.
The Book Trail cards still tucked into the display near the front desk.
The colorful drawings children had taped to the bulletin board after the festival.
A donation box so full that someone had slipped a folded twenty-dollar bill beneath the lid because there wasn't room inside.
The library had never really belonged to me.
It belonged to Cedar Hollow.
I had simply been lucky enough to help remind the town of that truth.
I stop beside the reading corner where Sophie and I spent the afternoon together.
One of the picture books still rests on the little rocking chair she'd claimed as "her spot."
I pick it up and smile.
This morning I had almost convinced myself that loving Sophie and Eli meant stepping aside for Stacey.
Now...
That idea feels almost impossible.
Children don't stop loving one person because they begin loving another.
Neither do grown-ups.
I think about Eli.
About the way he'd stood in the library the night before, asking me to take a walk.
About the disappointment in his eyes when I'd quietly told him no.
About his last words before he left.
"I wish you'd let me help."
A slow breath escapes me.
"I've made quite a mess of this."
The empty library, unsurprisingly, offers no opinion.
I laugh softly at myself.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I would stop pretending distance was kindness.
Tomorrow I would stop deciding what was best for everyone without giving them the chance to choose for themselves.
Tomorrow I would trust the people I loved enough to let them speak for themselves.
I lock the front door and step onto the sidewalk.
The courthouse clock chimes six.
Across the square, the lights in the fire station begin to glow as the evening shift settles in.
Almost without thinking, my eyes drift toward the building.
Somewhere inside, Eli is probably finishing paperwork or checking equipment before another call.
For days I'd been telling myself that walking away was the brave thing to do.
Standing there beneath the fading Oklahoma sky, I finally understand how wrong I'd been.
Sometimes...
The bravest thing isn't letting go.
Sometimes...
It's staying.
I smile to myself as I start toward home.
Tomorrow wasn't just the city council meeting.
Tomorrow was my chance to stop running.
And this time...
I intended to take it.