Chapter Fourteen
Fourteen
Pearls of Wisdom
from Vera Ingleby and Renny Russo
“When life gives you lemons, add sugar.”
“Heavens no. When life hands you lemons, add tequila.”
Tallulah
It had been a morning at the library.
For some reason, Fridays always brought chaos.
Isabel was off today, and the volunteer who’d been scheduled was out with a summer flu.
A leaking toilet had flooded the women’s restroom.
Someone had put trash in the book drop.
The wi-fi was being sassy, which made the patrons using computers sassy, which made everyone sassy.
Deckle had coughed up a hair ball in the teen section, and since Jed was busy with the leaky toilet, I was the one who had to clean it up.
And if all that hadn’t been enough, Tiny Tot Story Time had gone off the rails when one crying toddler created a ripple effect of crying toddlers.
I’d never seen anything like it. My word, the wailing.
It had echoed far and wide inside the building.
No amount of calming or soothing from parents or Nettie could salvage the program.
The session ended early, in a series of embarrassed apologies and teary goodbyes.
It was pushing one o’clock now, and it was hard to believe I was only halfway through my day. Luckily, however, things had calmed. I didn’t want to say we were in a lull—in fear of jinxing it—but it was quiet. Blissfully so.
Evanthe was in her office, Deckle was napping on a chair in the reading zone, and Jed was out buying a part to fix the toilet. A volunteer was due to come in at three, and it would be nice to have an extra set of hands.
“Have you read either of these, Tallulah?” Nettie asked, picking up two cozy mystery novels from the Flour Festival display.
“I haven’t yet,” I said, “but Isabel has and liked them. They’re quite popular.”
The whole display had gone over well with our patrons and needed restocking each morning.
It was fun combing the fiction catalog in search of titles that had something to do with desserts or baking.
I’d been surprised by just how many book titles contained words like cake, pie, cookies, or fudge.
I’d even found one with soufflé in the title. Soufflé!
Since I’d returned from my lunch break, I’d been dipping in and out of the workroom, which was located behind the circ desk, in an attempt to multitask.
I was working the desk and also loading the reshelving cart.
Because the books had to go on the cart in a specific order, based on section, the work soothed my frazzled nerves from the morning’s mayhem.
Everything in its place.
The majority of returns today were headed for the children’s section.
Summer reading was coming quickly to an end since school would be starting the Monday after the Flour Festival.
Now that Katy had made friends at camp, she was looking forward to going back, which was a relief, because I’d been worried about her settling into a new school.
I’d just stepped out of the workroom when I heard the automatic entry doors whoosh open and saw Georgia Smith, a local Realtor, rushing in. Once through the entryway, she took a hard left, heading straight for me, her sleeveless sundress flaring out behind her.
Georgia was about my age, had a deep tan, apple cheeks dotted with freckles, and a mass of red curls that were pulled off her face in a clip. Her daughter, Zoe, was one of Katy’s campmates.
In fact, Zoe was probably in a canoe at this very moment having the time of her life.
Georgia slapped a book on the circulation desk, her eyes wide, her body practically buzzing. I tried to read her energy but couldn’t quite puzzle out whether she was upset or excited.
“What’s got you all fired up, Georgia Smith?” Nettie asked, coming closer.
I didn’t know Georgia that well but was aware we had one big thing in common.
We were both newly divorced single moms. I imagined that if we met up for coffee or a cocktail, we’d have a lot to talk about.
I ought to suggest it, but right now it felt a little too far out of my comfort zone. Maybe one day, though.
Georgia jabbed a finger at the book she’d slammed down. “It’s this.”
I flipped the book over to look at the title, and my gaze landed on the shirtless man gracing the cover.
As I took in the muscles and tattoos, my brain immediately conjured up the image of Jake on his morning run. In my opinion, he could definitely give this cover model a run for his money.
Nettie whistled low. “Let me take a closer look at that, will you?”
I pushed the book her way and tried to ignore the heat climbing my neck as I said, “Is there a problem, Georgia?”
“Tallulah, do you know”—she paused a moment, as if searching for words—“how spicy this book is?”
The cover certainly hinted at the book’s content. A half-naked man lying on an unmade bed. A come hither look in his eyes. Contrary to what Jake had said this morning, sometimes you could judge a book by its cover. “No, sorry, I haven’t read it.”
I hadn’t pegged Georgia as someone who’d be opposed to a little spice, but I reminded myself I didn’t know her all that well. As I braced myself for a lecture on what constituted appropriate reading material, she fanned her face.
“It’s hot. Beyond hot. I broke a sweat reading it. I’m still sweating.” She leaned in. “Do you have other books by this author?”
I smiled, loving when a patron surprised me in a good way. It always made my day. “I can check.”
As I tapped into the online catalog, Nettie lifted an eyebrow. “Hot, you say?”
Georgia said, “Think ghost peppers, Miss Nettie. You’ll feel the burn in your soul.”
Nettie’s other eyebrow went up and both stayed there. “I see, I see. Lu, can you check if there’re any holds on this? If not”—she grinned—“it’s coming home with me.”
And just like that, the morning’s troubles evaporated. This right here was one of the reasons I loved the library so much. These little conversations. The sharing of a good book. The way it felt like the three of us were in on some sort of secret together.
Well, the four of us, if you counted Deckle. His nosy self had cut his nap short and hopped up onto the counter to watch what was going on. So help me if another hair ball was imminent. I swear he coughed up the earlier one just to get under my skin.
I gave him the stink eye to let him know I was watching him, and he looked at me with his golden eyes, as if amused that I thought I could stop him from causing mischief.
Georgia said, “I have to say, these books might just ruin dating for me. How’s a man supposed to live up to this?” She gestured wildly at the cover. “I mean, come on.”
Nettie smiled. “Ain’t that the truth? And it’s already slim pickings around these parts.”
I slid her a wry glance. “How’s your husband feel about you keeping tabs on the town’s dating scene?”
She laughed. “Someone’s got to be in charge of matchmaking around here.”
Nettie was well-known around town for poking her nose into other people’s love lives. To be fair, she’d had a good bit of success.
She drummed her fingertips on the counter and eyed me. Sizing me up.
“No,” I said, shaking my head so hard my ponytail darn near slapped my face. “Nope. No way. Not me. The ink is barely dry on my divorce.”
She swung her gaze to Georgia, who laughed. “Nope, not ready, either.”
Nettie shook her head. “Haven’t you both heard that the best way out is through?”
“As soon as I’m ready, I’ll let you know,” Georgia said to her. “I promise.”
Then they both looked at me.
In an attempt to change the subject, I said, “We have three more of that author’s titles available to check out, Georgia.” I made to come around the counter. “I can take you over to—”
She waved me off. “No need. I can find them and browse a bit, too. See what other spice I can find. Thank you, though.”
As soon as she disappeared into the stacks, Nettie began to drum her fingertips on the counter again. “There’s been no one since your divorce was final, darlin’?”
I cursed myself for even mentioning it earlier and shook my head.
“You know,” she said in an offhand way that felt quite deliberate, “I thought I caught a spark between you and Jake the other day.”
“What? No.” I didn’t dare even glance at the book on the counter.
“It was just the barest flicker, mind you. Sometimes that’s all you need to create some mighty flames. He’s newly single, you know.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”
“Vera texted. She wheedled it out of him over breakfast. It was a recent breakup but amicable.”
“His truck didn’t break down when it got to town, did it?”
“Nope.”
I was happy to hear that because it meant he wasn’t hurting over the relationship to the point that he’d been led to town. He wasn’t here for healing.
Still, dating still felt way too far out of my comfort zone, and I tried to find excuses in hopes of putting an end to this discussion. “He’s not even my type. Not really. I go more for a blue-eyed, blond-haired, button-down kind of guy.”
She leveled me with an amused gaze. “And how’d that work out for you?”
“Hey now.”
Deckle trilled like he was laughing and plopped down, folding his arms inward, curling his tail against his body, becoming one big fluffy black-cat loaf.
I rolled my eyes and moved the cup of pencils away from him, just in case he was lulling me into a false sense of security.
Smiling, Nettie reached across the counter and patted my hand.
“All I’m sayin’, Lu, is that if you keep doing what you’ve always done, you’ll keep getting what you’ve always got.
Maybe it’s a good idea to give different a chance.
Walk a different path. I’m telling you, there’s something there between you and Jake. You should give it a chance.”
It seemed that today I was the one on the receiving end of her wisdom.
I lowered my voice. “Even if I did like Jake, opening myself up, wearing my heart on my sleeve, feels…”
“What, darlin’?”
“It feels like I’d just be asking for heartache.”