Chapter 23 #2
“I know.” She turned off the engine. “You’re sure there’s no way to let him stay?” She couldn’t stop the tears that pooled in her eyes.
“I wish I had all the answers for you,” Arnie said. “I wish I could help in some cure-all way. But the magic is powerful,
and there are rules for a reason. Rules we shouldn’t break.”
Stella met his gaze. “Again?”
Arnie’s face paled. “What do you mean?”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away. “In the hospital you mentioned that we couldn’t try to keep someone
away from the source of the magic again.”
Arnie averted his gaze. “The babblings of an old man.”
Stella leaned against the seat and dropped her head back, releasing a loud exhale. “Love is a wonderful, terrible thing.”
“More wonderful than terrible, I hope,” Arnie said.
Stella looked over at him, wiped at her tears, and nodded. “Me too.” She cleared her throat and inhaled. “Let’s get inside
before we start sweating. It’s gonna be as hot as a two-dollar pistol today.”
After settling Arnie back into his cottage and starting a load of laundry, Stella felt calm enough to walk over to the library.
She checked in with Melanie and Dan and updated them on Arnie. She also found Jack and asked if he’d like to eat lunch with
them at the cottage.
“I told Arnie about us,” she admitted.
Jack gawked at her. “What did you tell him?” His gaze drifted toward Arnie’s cottage.
“Don’t be absurd,” she said, understanding the panic on his face. “I didn’t tell him everything, just about my feelings for you and how I want you to stay and I’m sad and blah blah blah.”
Jack grabbed Stella’s hand, causing her heart to wobble. “What did he say?”
“He’s mostly upset with himself for bringing you out. He assumed we’d have a nice chat and that would be the end of our story.”
“How could anyone have a nice chat with you and want that to be the end of the story?” Jack asked.
Warmth tingled over her body, and she snuggled up to him. “That’s kinda what I said about you.” She smiled. “Lunch?”
Jack hesitated. “Is he angry with me?”
“Not at all,” she said. “Give me your order for the deli, because I want you to join us.” He leaned over and kissed her. When he pulled away, she asked, “Is that a yes?” He kissed her again, and
she laughed against his lips.
Stella, Jack, and Arnie sat around the small kitchen table and ate salads and sandwiches, making small talk until Arnie asked
about the magic.
“Darcy’s still here, isn’t he?” Arnie glanced between Stella and Jack. “He knows the rules, but without me around to keep
everyone accounted for . . . is everything still okay in the library? No mishaps?”
Jack caught Stella’s eyes, and their shared gaze was enough to alert Arnie.
He wiped his mouth slowly with a napkin. “What’s going on? Did something happen to Darcy?”
“No, nothing happened to Darcy,” Stella assured him. “He’s safe and sound in the library.”
“What is it, then?” Arnie asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Jack nodded his encouragement. Stella took a drink of her Pepsi before speaking. “A few things actually.”
Arnie shifted in his chair.
“Percy and Ariel know.”
Arnie’s bushy eyebrows lifted. “Why would you tell—”
“I used the magic and brought out Captain Hook,” she blurted. “They saw Hook fall from the balcony, but that was only after
I stabbed him by accident. I also brought out Robinson Crusoe, but he was helpful—he and Darcy both—and the reason I had to
tell Ariel and Percy about the magic was because they saw Hook die. I mean, Hook’s not dead, of course, but he died in the fictional way.”
Jack had stopped eating and gaped at her.
“Percy is extremely unhappy with me,” Stella continued. “He thinks this is too dangerous and I’m irresponsible and incapable
of using the magic. He also demanded I send all the characters back early, including Jack. And, Arnie, it was horrible watching
Hook die. I can’t do that again, and I don’t want to.”
Arnie lifted his water, and the liquid quaked inside the glass. He drank but said nothing.
Stella’s stomach twisted. “Well . . . say something.”
Arnie cleared his throat. “It was bound to happen, I guess, other people finding out. We’ll have to swear them to secrecy.
Ariel seems the trustworthy type—”
“She is!” Stella agreed.
“Percy won’t tell anyone because they’ll think he’s lost his mind,” Arnie said. “And he cares too much about what other people
think.” His gaze went to Jack. “You didn’t caution her first?”
“I did!” Jack said.
Stella placed her hand on Jack’s. “He did, Arnie. I ignored his warning because I didn’t believe him, and by the time you explained things to me, it was too late.
I’d already brought out Hook and Crusoe, except I didn’t know it at the time.
Not until I got back to the library and things were . . . We handled it.”
Arnie cleared his throat again. “You handled it, did you? Before or after it was bedlam?”
Stella glanced away, and Arnie’s laugh surprised her.
“Did you tell her about the time I brought out the White Witch?” Arnie asked, still chuckling.
“You did not!” Stella exclaimed.
Jack and Arnie both shuddered. “That was a lesson I could have lived without. Was Hook surprised to see you?” he asked Jack.
Jack smirked. “He was. Righteously angry too.”
Arnie chuckled, and then he returned to seriousness. “I’ll talk to Percy.”
“Are you mad?” Stella asked.
“Mad?” Arnie shook his head. “We all make mistakes, Stella. The magic comes with rules, but . . . we don’t always follow them
as closely as we should. We can’t see how our decisions will ripple into the future or create consequences we aren’t prepared
for.”
Stella relaxed against the chair back. “I’m sorry I used the magic foolishly. Thanks for not being furious.”
“I’d be a hypocrite if I was,” Arnie said, folding the parchment paper over the unfinished half of his sandwich. “There’s
something else I haven’t told you. I’ve wanted to tell you for years, but I kept putting off revealing the magic, and if I
didn’t tell you that, this other thing wouldn’t make sense. I still don’t know if you’re better off not knowing.”
Stella looked at Jack. He shrugged.
“What is it?” Stella asked.
Arnie clasped his hands together on the table. “I’m assuming you found my copy of Jack’s book beneath the hidden panel in the desk drawer.”
Jack touched Stella’s thigh beneath the table. “I showed her.”
Arnie nodded. “Did you notice the other book with it?”
Stella scanned her memory and recalled there had been a second book. “A green one.”
“The Unraveling of Mrs. Russo,” Arnie said. “I need you to go get it and bring it back here.”
“Now?” Stella asked.
Arnie nodded.
Stella pushed away from the table, rushed out the door, and ran across the yard between the cottage and library. When she
arrived at the circulation desk, she was grateful no one was there. A quick scan of the library revealed that Melanie was
talking with someone in the children’s section, and she heard Dan’s voice upstairs.
Stella yanked open the drawer as quickly as possible and removed the extraneous items, then grabbed The Unraveling of Mrs. Russo, which rested below Jack’s book and the ink pad and stamp. She assembled everything back into place and hurried out of the
library.
She flung open Arnie’s door, out of breath and sweaty. Jack looked at her from the table, his expression curious, but Arnie
appeared pale and unwell. Stella sat back down and placed the emerald-green book on the table between them.
“Open it to the back,” Arnie said.
Stella flipped open the back cover. The library due date card was still tucked into its sleeve. She pulled out the card and
saw that the date stamped on it was from more than thirty years ago. A prickly sensation started in her fingers. Words resembling
a child’s crayon scribblings wiggled out of the sleeve. Disappeared. Why? Come back.
Jack frowned at the words as they wobbled off the table.
“What is this?” Stella asked, her mouth dry.
Arnie inhaled slowly and exhaled before speaking. “It’s the story of Mrs. Russo. I found it years ago when I first moved to
Blue Sky Valley. At the time, it hadn’t been checked out in years, and the author had already passed away. But it’s about
a woman born to Italian immigrants in New York City in the 1920s. While she’s still a young woman, she dreams of stardom on
Broadway but is trapped in a loveless marriage and an unfulfilling life with a man her parents insisted she marry. She tries
to assert her independence and reclaim her dreams, but she has her own personal demons to overcome first.”
Stella didn’t speak, so Arnie continued.
“I was drawn to her, so I brought Mrs. Russo out years ago,” he said. “Her story fascinated me for some reason. I imagined
she was beautiful, a passionate woman. I thought bringing her here would give her a way to see the world without feeling oppressed.
It wouldn’t be as fancy as Broadway, but it would be a chance for her to relax and laugh and talk about her dreams.”
Stella’s hands started shaking. She flipped to the front of the book. The opening line of the novel read: Every night, as Maria lay beside her husband in their cramped apartment in Little Italy, she closed her eyes and stepped onto
a Broadway stage, a world away from the life she had never chosen.
“Maria?” Stella whispered.
Arnie continued, “Your father came into the library two days after she arrived, and he was smitten. Maria had never experienced
a man so doting and generous. She begged me to let her stay. She wanted to get married, have a family. I didn’t know she would
leave you.”
Stella’s eyes widened. “But she couldn’t have stayed. You said . . . you said—”
“I know what I said!” Arnie barked. He inhaled a noisy breath and held it before releasing it.
He reached for the book. “You were right. The magic is tied to the place because the source is there. If I bring out characters in the library, when it’s time for their return and they’re in the library, they return to their books. ”