Chapter Eight #2
The place felt like a second home. She’d spent countless hours deep in one of the fat beanbag chairs, escaping between the pages. Winnie would say that art had a transformative power that couldn’t be found anywhere else.
Well, her aunt had said it in easier-to-understand language back then. But coming from such a nuts-and-bolts, practical person, it surprised Bailey Rae enough to make her sit up and take notice.
A familiar voice drifted past the rows of shelves, Libby leading story time, thanks to the “chauffeuring” help of June and Thea.
Libby might not always remember her own name, but she could still read books to children.
The doctor had told them Alzheimer’s looked different for each person diagnosed.
He had a patient who no longer recognized any of his family members but could keep track of sports scores.
Very little had changed at the library over the years.
The scarred tables had been refinished. The card catalog had been traded out for a long line of computers, each with its own privacy cubby.
Above the fireplace, a framed and matted fourteen-by-eighteen photo of Russell’s grandmother Annette stared down at them with eyes so like Russell’s.
Careful not to distract, Bailey Rae allowed herself a moment to breathe and tugged a chair from one of those cubbies.
As Libby continued to read The Three Billy Goats Gruff , she drew interactive responses from her young audience filling the rug.
“Who’s that stomp, stomp, stomping across my bridge?”
Tiny feet hammered the floor.
Most of the faces were familiar but welcoming, since it seemed there was often someone’s cousin, brother, or sister visiting. Except for the police officer sitting by the front door thumbing through a Field & Stream .
Smack dab in the center, Gia sat cross-legged with her arms wrapped around her daughter in her lap. Cricket had stayed even closer to her mother since the brief stint with child services while her mother was in the hospital.
This evening, Martin would be picking her up to ride along when taking Gia and Cricket to a new shelter. One with tighter security. So far, they hadn’t been able to persuade Gia to file a police report. She insisted that it wouldn’t work and if her husband found her, he would only be angrier.
No doubt, the woman spoke out of fear for her life and her child’s.
Bailey Rae didn’t remember her own mother being that terrified—or that concerned for her child’s well-being. Yvonne had rarely grieved for the last guy, always focused on the next man and his potential drug stash.
Bailey Rae shoved the memories aside like reshelving a one-star book she’d finished and hoped never to read again.
Story time concluded, with the head librarian directing the children to tables for crafts—making paper-bag puppets of the story characters.
Thea pushed Libby’s wheelchair toward a lounge area in back.
June followed, waving for Bailey Rae to join them in the same spot where Aunt Winnie used to have bagged lunches with her friends while Bailey Rae finished her homework.
June pulled over an extra chair. “What’s this I hear about the police being called to your place last night?”
Bailey Rae slung her leather backpack onto the table. “Turned out to be a great big nothing burger. Skeeter barked up a storm. There were some footprints, but no one around. We heard a four-wheeler crank to life in the distance, but that could have been any number of people.”
June shook her head, a newly purple streak of hair sliding forward. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”
Bailey Rae squeezed Libby’s gnarled hand. “Thank you for loaning Keith to us.”
Sniffing, Thea mumbled under her breath, “Not much of a sacrifice, if you ask me. Skeeter would be more help than that man.”
Libby just smiled, not appearing to take offense, which was the best way to deal with Thea. “Well, Gia’s husband wouldn’t know that.”
Bailey Rae nodded. “You’re right, Mrs. Libby. Martin Perez stuck around too. He parked his truck at the top of the road.”
Thea asked, “What happens now?”
“Martin located another shelter. I’m not clear on the details, but we’ll drive them over together this evening.”
Libby’s face furrowed. “I hope Gia doesn’t go back to her husband. It’s harder to leave than people think.” The fog cleared from her gray eyes. “I had a cousin in a similar situation. She barely escaped with her life.”
The result of that outcome weighed heavy on Bailey Rae’s conscience. “I’m not sure what else I can do.”
June slid an arm around her shoulders in a familiar half hug. “Honey, you have done as much as possible. Just reach out to her when you can. She’ll need support.”
Libby leaned forward, elbows on the table. “But use a burner so he can’t track you down if he takes her phone.”
Suddenly, Libby’s advice for Gia to hide her car made more sense.
“I’m sorry about your cousin.” Libby’s face creased in confusion, but Bailey Rae knew better than to press her.
“Thank you again for pitching in. I know I’m the one who volunteered to help Gia and Cricket, which makes them my responsibility. ”
Thea tugged her ever-present white gloves more securely in place before stepping behind Libby’s wheelchair again. “We ladies need to stick together.” She leaned over Libby’s shoulder. “Let’s go find that son of yours.”
June bustled alongside, her sassy purple streak glowing under the fluorescent lights. “Bailey Rae, now you call us if you need anything. Anything at all.”
Clustered together, the three moved almost as one on their way toward the entrance and its wheelchair ramp. An image of them from the past superimposed itself in her mind, the three of them walking arm in arm with Winnie, all of them with straight spines and fire in their steps.
Winnie’s death had hit them hard, adding fresh gray to their hair and stooping their shoulders. But the fire was still there, even when diluted by cataracts. These ladies were badass, and she loved that about them.
Whatever it took, she would make them proud by helping Gia, then launching her new life.
Windshield wipers slapped the rain away, lightning slicing the sky. Bailey Rae winced, counting down seconds in her head until thunder rumbled outside Martin’s truck. One ... two ... Another bolt shot down, the quick crack so close she couldn’t tell if it was thunder or a split tree.
Storm clouds darkened the sky, bringing nightfall early. Thankfully, the game warden vehicle came equipped with a laptop computer he’d opened and set to a weather radar. The screen bathed the truck’s cab in a marshy glow.
Bailey Rae squinted from the passenger seat, helping Martin keep watch for deer crossing the country road.
She definitely didn’t want to peer too far into the woods, where the river current swept higher, fast, the narrow channel swollen with rain.
She couldn’t let herself think of Winnie’s body submerged there or further, trapped by tangled roots.
Better to focus on searching for vulnerable Bambis along the edge of the back road. Some deer would bed down to ride out the weather, but others could still spook and bolt. Difficult enough to see in advance in even the best of weather.
At least they had dropped off Gia and Cricket at the new shelter before the skies really opened up. Bailey Rae scanned the brush just beyond the passenger window. “I’m sorry this drive turned into such a hassle.”
“No need to apologize. I wanted to help. I’ll rest easier knowing all of you are safe,” Martin said, gripping the steering wheel, his forehead furrowed in concentration. “Not just Gia and Cricket.”
The security at the new shelter appeared top notch, with a locked gate around the little community.
There was even counseling available on-site that would—hopefully—allay Libby’s concern that Gia would return to her husband.
Bailey Rae wished hers were as easily settled, because she was struggling to trust people after how badly the last attempt played out, landing Gia in the hospital.
Bailey Rae leaned forward to swipe her arm along the fogged windshield. “How did you find the new shelter? I’ve never heard of it before.”
“It’s legit.” He switched on the defogger, blasting air upward. “With a tax ID number. It’s just smaller and less known, but that makes for tighter security. I have every reason to believe he won’t find her, as long as ...”
“As long as she doesn’t reach out to him.” She swallowed down bile. “We’ve done all we can, haven’t we?”
He answered with a tight nod, never looking away from the two-lane road.
Bailey Rae tapped the edge of the computer, the radar covered in bands of the downpour. “The weatherman really let us down with the forecast earlier.”
“Agreed,” he said, his grip on the steering wheel turning whiter. “It’s just as risky to turn back as to forge ahead. Or we could pull over and wait it out.”
Since Skeeter had a dog door to get in and out, she had nothing else pressuring her to return home. No one to worry if she didn’t arrive on time ... Depressing. “We should probably—”
Lightning split the sky, the crack of thunder so close the storm must have been right over them.
Martin winced. “Right. I’m pulling over.”
He put the truck into reverse, arm across the seat until they reached the top of the hill, where he shifted into park. The hammering rain on the roof and hazy interior seemed to shrink the space, leaving her fidgety from adrenaline letdown and needing to fill the awkward silence between them.
“We have a healthy respect for thunderstorms around here. Did you know that lightning struck Winnie’s barn years ago and burned it to the ground?
” she babbled. “The red barn that’s there now is a rebuild.
Folks say lightning doesn’t strike twice, but I’m not sure I believe that.
I think there are places in the world that have these negative gravitational pulls that attract bad luck. Is that silly?”