Chapter Eleven
Eleven
A Pearl of Wisdom
from Vera Ingleby
“There is a lid for every pot.”
Tallulah
At the end of Papaw’s street sat a beautiful circular garden. A wide walking path surrounded the large raised bed, then branched out, connecting to eight side streets. Three to the north, three to the south, and one each to the east and west.
From above, it looked like an illustrated sun, the paths its rays.
Even though the sun garden was my favorite place in Forget-Me-Not, I barely spared the flowers a glance as I hurried along.
I’d spent much more time gossiping with Vera than I’d intended, and if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee at the Bean Patch—and I most definitely did—then I needed to pick up my pace.
I veered off on the third path on my right, which led to Miss Edie’s house.
She’d come highly recommended to me by Nettie, one of her closest friends, and had been nothing short of a godsend.
Mary Joy adored her. Usually, Edie watched over three little ones, but today she only had Mary Joy because her other two charges, siblings, were under the weather.
Despite Edie being absolutely wonderful, drop-offs at her house always tugged at my heartstrings.
Today was no different, even though Mary Joy slept through the transfer.
She hadn’t even twitched when I kissed her downy head, said goodbye.
I loved my job, I truly did, but there was a part of me that wished I could spend more time with the girls. They were only little for so long.
Heartache followed me the whole way to the Bean Patch, which was part coffee shop, part gift shop, and all kinds of quirky and quaint with its eclectic, vintage decor.
As quickly as I could manage, I collected a few odds and ends for a gift basket, ordered a caramel latte and a raspberry Danish to go, and handed over my credit card.
Outside, I checked my watch and quickly zigged and zagged my way along side streets toward a tree-lined road that practically led to the staff entrance at the back of the library.
The houses on this street were a good deal smaller than the ones on Papaw’s but just as charming with their pitched rooflines, picket fences, and brick walkways.
All but one, which looked like it hadn’t seen love in a long time.
It sat at the end of the road, on the corner lot across from the library.
A tarp covered its roof, bricks were missing from its curved chimney, and rotted fascia boards were full of woodpecker holes.
The window next to the front door was broken and had plastic taped over it.
The yard was overgrown, weedy, and gave me the shivers.
Amid the tall grass, I spotted a SMITH REAL ESTATE sign and smiled at the FIXER-UPPER rider perched atop it.
Fixer-upper was being generous.
It might’ve well said TEARDOWN.
In its heyday, however, the house probably had looked straight out of a storybook.
I was still giving it a good once-over when I heard pounding footsteps behind me and the jingle of dog tags.
I turned and saw Daisy and Jake jogging toward me.
He was shirtless, and I tried not to gawk at his broad, muscled chest. Or how it glistened with sweat.
Mercy.
Until Daisy veered off course to say hello, Jake hadn’t seemed to notice me, his face pinched, his gaze locked in the distance as he ran.
When he saw me, the tightness vanished. “Hey.”
“Hello. You okay? You looked lost in thought there.”
Once again, I found myself looking for bunnies in his arm tattoo, which seemed to be one large woodland scene, stretching from shoulder to wrist. It was quite elaborate, and I found it to be rather beautiful, which seemed strange only because I’d never been much of a tattoo fan before.
I didn’t mind this one, however. Not even a little bit.
He smiled and ran his fingers through his damp hair, mussing it. “Just lost in general.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of the answer. Was it figurative? Or literal?
Figurative would make sense since he was here in Forget-Me-Not.
But so would literal, since he was new to town and it didn’t appear that he had a phone on him, one with a handy-dandy GPS.
I hesitantly asked, “Do you need directions back to Vera’s?”
“Now that I see the library, I should be able to find my way. But thanks.” When Daisy started licking the bag holding my Danish, he pulled her back, apologized, and said, “I’m convinced her stomach is a bottomless pit.
She’s already had breakfast. And a second breakfast, too.
” He glanced at his watch. “Despite all that, she’s probably counting the minutes until elevenses. ”
Smiling, I said, “The hobbits would approve.”
“I knew I should’ve named her Bilbo. Or maybe Belladonna? Am I remembering that right? It’s been a while since I read the book. Was Belladonna his mom’s name?”
Be still, my heart.
I nodded. “Good memory. I bet you’re great at trivia games.”
“I hold my own in pub quizzes. Don’t suppose you’re putting a team together?”
Suddenly I thought it was the best idea ever. However, the closest pub was a bar forty minutes away, a rowdy honky-tonk with dim lighting, sticky floors, and a cloud of cigarette smoke you could cut with a knife.
Still, I kept it as an option. “I’ll keep you in mind if I do.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
When he smiled at me, I felt that twinge in my heart again.
What if him? There’s a good chance he’s the one.
I had enough common sense not to completely dismiss the idea this time around, but rather delay an answer. As in, What if we talk about it later?
Jake nodded to the house for sale. “Are you in the market?”
I mean, I was, kind of. But not for … this. “I’m not really looking for a fixer-upper.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking for, other than newer. This century, at least.
Again, I thought of the house I’d left behind. A new build in a family-friendly subdivision, with a stereotypical picket fence and a big sunny backyard with a rose garden and a swimming pool.
It had been my dream house, even though it had been a bribe, really.
Scott had known that I’d had my heart set on moving to Forget-Me-Not once he finally finished his master’s degree.
When the time came, however, he’d stubbornly insisted that we stay near Birmingham, close to his new office.
I’d put up a bit of a fight, but in the end, I’d given in to his pleas, swayed when he promised me the kind of house I’d always longed for.
Back then, I’d told myself that what mattered most was that I had a wonderful husband, a beautiful daughter, a home of my own—the stable home base I’d always longed for.
In hindsight, I could see the shaky foundation of that agreement.
The resentment I felt that we were so close to Forget-Me-Not yet so far away.
His long days.
Me feeling like I was raising Katy alone.
Then, without consulting me, he lobbied for a job that required travel. Lots of it, including a possible move abroad.
It had been the beginning of the end.
“It has lots of potential, though,” Jake said, nodding to the house. “Don’t you think?”
I eyed him. “Are you a Realtor?”
His lip twitched. “No.”
His near smile told me he was very much aware that people wanted to know what he did for a living. Also, that he enjoyed keeping it a secret.
He studied my face. “I just know something special when I see it.”
I turned toward the house. For the briefest second there, it felt like he had been talking about me. Wishful thinking, maybe.
My cheeks were downright fiery when I said, “If it’s this rough on the outside, I can only imagine the inside.”
He smiled. “Can’t always judge a book by its cover, right? A librarian should know that.”
“Well,” I said, “I’m not a librarian, am I?”
“No?”
“Just an assistant. I’d always planned to get a master’s in library science but—” I cut myself off because I realized I was oversharing. No wonder Katy did it, too.
“But what?” he asked, curiosity blazing in his eyes.
I let out a deep breath and shrugged. “Life interrupted.”
His voice was low, kind, caring, as he said, “Is it still interrupting? Life, I mean? Is there a reason you can’t do it now?”
I was about to tell him there were a million reasons, when I happened to catch sight of my watch. I gasped. “Shoot. I need to go. I’m going to be late for work.”
His eyebrows went up. “You definitely don’t want that. Your boss is tough.”
He almost sounded amused. But that couldn’t be right, could it?
“That she is. It was good seeing you,” I said before giving Daisy a quick head-pat.
I sprinted away. At the end of the lane, I looked both ways and darted across the street, bounded over the sidewalk, and practically flew over the library’s lawn.
I waved my badge at the card reader on the staff door, jerked it open, and leaped into the break room. It was exactly 9:14. Talk about cutting it close.
Evanthe stood at the counter, in front of the electric kettle, slowly stirring milk into a teacup. She lifted pale eyebrows at my dramatic entrance.
“Good morning!” I said, slightly out of breath.
She deliberately looked at her watch. “I would caution you to be more mindful of the time, Tallulah. Tardiness reflects badly on employees.”
I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “I was just talking with—”
“I’m aware.”
It was then that I realized she’d probably seen me talking with Jake. The break room windows had the perfect view of the house on the corner.
“Right,” I said, clenching my jaw, remembering my vow to stay on Evanthe’s good side. “Rules are rules.”
“Precisely. There are rules for a reason. If not enforced, chaos would ensue. I, for one, do not enjoy chaos. Do you?”
I searched her face, looking for a hint of the woman my mamaw had loved so dearly. If she was still in there, she was well hidden behind a hard exterior. One that seemed impossible to penetrate. Suddenly it felt like a fool’s mission to try to get her to open up again, let me in.
“No, ma’am.”
“I didn’t think so.” She gave me a pointed look, then turned away. A cool breeze whispered against my ankles as she walked out of the room.
I glanced down at the floor, at Deckle’s food and water bowls, and thought of the NO PETS sign on the front of the building.
Rules were rules.
But apparently, they were only meant for others to follow.