Chapter 7
The group dispersed after it was all settled, but Minka stayed behind to chat with Cali in her office. She could tell Cali was upset over something, because she’d been fidgety through the whole club meeting. Minka also knew it had nothing to do with the cat.
Cali shuffled papers at her desk. “It’s the library board. The meeting’s Monday, and I still don’t have a plan to counter their rejection to my initial idea for Banned Books Week.”
“What problem did they have with your display again?”
“The descriptions,” Cali hissed, “which is contrary to the whole point of a banned books display. They wanted me to tone down the publisher’s blurb for Charlotte’s Web, for Christ’s sake. I guess calling out our own mortality is a little too much for the board.”
Minka rolled her eyes. “That’s just because the board’s full of old guys close to the grave themselves. Can you revise them?”
“I could,” Cali admitted, “but where does it end? They’ve already started making cuts—said no to The Handmaid’s Tale because of the slavery and trauma. The Handmaid’s Tale!” She slammed her hand against the desk. “This isn’t even about the descriptions anymore. It’s about perception.”
Minka bit her lower lip.
A soft knock came at the door. When she stepped aside, Ethan was there, pulling a hand through his dark hair. “Am I interrupting something important?”
Cali groaned, tugging at the mess of papers on her desk. The kitten, still trapped in its cardboard carrier in the corner, meowed in protest.
“Not important enough you two can’t talk,” Minka said, backing out. “Catch you later, Cals. Text me if I can help.” She waved and disappeared.
“I just wondered—” Ethan started.
Cali’s glasses slid down her nose as she fumbled with the stack of papers, one slipping to the floor. She bent to retrieve it, but her hands shook, scattering a few more. Ethan lunged forward to help, but she waved him off. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“I overheard a bit,” he mumbled. “Sounds like this is important to you. Sorry the board’s giving you such a hard time.”
Cali nodded her head. “No one gets how difficult these kinds of discussions can be in a small town. But it’s worth it. These books have done nothing wrong! I just want to bring them some visibility.”
“Sounds like the board doesn’t want that, though.”
“Ding, ding, ding.” Her voice was flat, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the scattered papers.
Then she realized she was targeting the wrong guy.
She sighed and sank into her desk chair.
He slid into the seat across from her. Despite the fluorescent lights and rigid furniture, some of the comfort she’d felt with him last Thursday at the café booth bubbled up in her again.
“I’m being a jerk, Ethan. I don’t mean to take it out on you.
I can’t even blame alcohol this time. I didn’t touch Lynne’s beer stash. ”
“It’s okay. Makes sense you’re upset. I read The Handmaid’s Tale in high school. So did everyone else I know. It’s horrific. Don’t get me wrong. But everyone should try to read it.”
“I appreciate that.” The air felt heavy between them. “What was on your mind, though? Hopefully not the library board.”
“Just a quick question. Drop off and pickup for the vet tomorrow: the library?” He paused, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “Or your place?”
“My place?”
“You said your place is out by the lake, right? The vet’s office is halfway between here and there. I could head either direction.”
She paused to think. Had he really remembered that from their chat last week?
She brushed off the thought, nodding her head briskly, but it lingered nonetheless.
“Well, I suppose I could bring her into work tomorrow and let you take it from there. I don’t get out of here until 6 p.m. on Fridays, though, so—”
“So I’ll meet you at your place.”
The look between them settled and deepened. Cali imagined him on her doorstep, the fading red sunset against his back, and how she already knew in her gut this was a very bad idea. The worst. But like watching a slow-motion car crash, she felt helpless to stop it.
She scribbled out the address of the A-frame and passed it across the table to him. His hands clung to it like it was a map out of the desert.
“One more thing,” he said.
“No, I will not settle your overdue fines just because you’re helping with the cat.”
He let out a startled laugh and shook his head. “Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying. Good to know you’re up on my bad-boy patron file, though.” He gave her the side-eye. “I intend to pay those soon. But, seriously. This library board, I think you can beat them at their own game—literally.”
“What do you mean?”
“Instead of your original proposal, why don’t you gamify it?
Like, create a scavenger-hunt-style display throughout the library.
Each book would have its summary or ‘reason it was challenged’ written in invisible ink.
Patrons can check out a small UV pen from the desk to reveal the message.
It’s educational, but it feels more like a game.
” Cali’s interest was piqued. “You’re showing respect for all patrons and the board by letting people choose how much to engage.
No changing the descriptions. No striking books from your list. It’s just there if they want to participate. ”
Cali crinkled her nose in thought. “Invisible ink, huh? The board might faint on the spot. On the other hand …” She bit the inside of her cheek, already filing it away. But she couldn’t let Ethan see just how much space he was taking up in her head—and her library. “I’ll think about it.”
“Fair enough. I just thought it might give you another angle.” He wrung his hands together, pushed his fingers through his wavy hair, and rose from his seat. “I guess I’ll get going. See you here at 3:15 p.m. tomorrow?”
“Sure. If I’m busy, just ask at the front desk. I’ll let them know you’re coming, and the cat will be here in my office.”
He gave a slight wave of his hand on his way out and closed the door behind him.
Cali cracked open another can of paté and watched the Maine Coon kitten eat it on her desk.
The fluffy ball of chocolate and smoke-colored fur was ravenous, and for a moment she felt bad about not letting it out to say hello to Ethan, too.
When it was done, it gazed up at her, eyes like polished marbles, deep and wondering, then crawled into her lap and purred.
She remembered this feeling. She’d missed it so much, and now it was finally part of her world again.
A tear slipped free, unseen but for the kitten, as she stroked its fur.
Still, her mind kept circling around the one question she didn’t dare ask: Ethan Cross—rival, rescuer, or something far more risky?