Chapter Fourteen #2
Nettie knew my history, knew why I’d become so introverted, knew why I’d closed myself off to most people. I was beyond grateful I didn’t have to explain.
She gave me an encouraging smile. “I understand, I do. You’re just trying to keep from getting hurt.
But here’s my concern, darlin’.” She slid a look toward Evanthe’s office and dropped her voice.
“Sometimes, when you lock yourself up, all safe and protected, you forget how to let people back in. I don’t want that happening to you. ”
As the image of Evanthe looking out the window came to mind, all stoic and unapproachable, I sighed, then tiptoed over the boundaries of my comfort zone. “Maybe it is time to date again. Test the waters.”
Nettie grinned.
I groaned. “I said maybe.”
With a laugh, she said, “I’ll take a maybe. A maybe isn’t a no.”
Deckle took that moment to rise to his feet, yawn, and stretch. In doing so, he kicked over a pile of mail onto the floor.
I suspected it hadn’t been an accident.
Bending down, I gathered the scattered mail. My gaze caught on one brochure in particular. It was from the University of Alabama, touting its MLIS program. Master of Library and Information Science. The degree I’d need if I wanted to become an official librarian here.
When the front doors slid open, I stood up. A warm breeze swept into the library, bringing with it Katy and Juliet.
Katy skipped toward the counter. “Hi, Deckle! Hi, Mama! Hi, Miss Nettie!”
It didn’t escape my notice that I’d ranked second.
“Hello there!” I said, setting the collected mail down on the counter—far away from Deckle. “This is a nice surprise.”
Juliet smiled. “Katy’s hoping to check out some books.”
“A mess of books!” Katy immediately went to Nettie for a hug, curving into her side.
Nettie squeezed Katy tight. “I swear you’ve done grown another inch since last week.”
“I think so, too,” she said. “I might be as tall as Bill one day.”
“Bill?” Nettie asked.
“The oak tree in front of Papaw’s house,” I supplied.
“Oh, of course.” Nettie nodded. “That Bill. He’s quite magnificent. What’ve you been up to today?”
“Me and Juliet wrote a book and danced and we just went to Juneberry and I beat Uncle Renny in checkers.”
She was glowing. It was so nice to see her excited. Just maybe she was having more fun today than she ever would’ve had in a canoe.
I knew I owed that to Juliet and would have to find a way to thank her.
“Why’d you go to Juneberry?” I asked.
“Aunt Maeve forgot her lunch,” Katy said. “We brought it to her.”
Deckle made his way to the edge of the counter, closer to Juliet. He pushed his head into her palm.
I told myself I wasn’t the least bit envious.
“It’s a beautiful place,” Juliet said.
Nettie nodded. “It surely is.”
The front doors opened again, and this time it was Miss Edie who rushed in, pushing the stroller at full speed. By the look on her face, something was terribly wrong.
“Lu! I have to— I’ve got—”
“What’s happened?” My heart pounded as I darted around the counter, nearly tripping over my feet.
As soon as I reached Edie’s side, I saw Mary Joy sitting in the stroller, gumming on a frozen plastic teether.
She broke into a smile when she saw me and started waving her hands.
I picked her up, holding her close, until she squawked at the tightness.
As soon as I loosened my grip, she dropped the teether and reached for my necklace.
“It’s my mama,” Edie said, the words ragged, splintered. Torn from her soul. She gulped, trying to get a little more air. She looked about ready to pass out.
Juliet stepped toward her and gently touched her arm. “Slow breaths. Lean forward a little—it helps.”
Edie nodded and leaned.
I took a slow breath, too, trying to calm down, but fear still thudded against my ribs.
Juliet glanced at me. “Can we get her a cup of water?”
“I can get it,” Katy said and sprinted toward the employee break room, in full helper mode.
Nettie grabbed a chair from the reading zone and, with Juliet’s help, lowered Edie onto the seat. “That’s it. Nice and easy like.”
Katy came rushing back, her spine ramrod straight as she tried not to spill the cup of water she held. “Here you go, Miss Edie.”
“Thank you, baby.” She took a sip, her hand shaky, but her voice steadier.
“Now what’s this about your mama?” Nettie asked her.
“She fell and hit her head bad. The hospital called me not twenty minutes ago. I need to pack and get to Roanoke straightaway.”
Worry vibrated in each word she spoke, and my heart hurt for her.
“Oh no,” Nettie tutted. “And you’re planning to drive up to Virginia tonight?”
It’s where Edie had grown up. Her mama, well into her eighties, lived in a retirement community there.
Edie nodded, and her voice was a mite bit stronger when she said, “Flying’s no faster, what with the time it would take to get to the airport and the connection and all. Besides, it’ll be nice to have my car up there to go back and forth to the hospital.”
Nettie said, “I don’t get off work till six, but let me call Vera. She can help you pack and make sure you have everything you need before you get on the road.”
I knew that meant she wanted to make sure Edie was calm enough to make the trip before she drove off. And that she’d have a full tank of gas and a basket of food when she went. There was nothing like small-town compassion when a crisis arose.
Edie’s eyes filled with tears, and she nodded. “I’d appreciate that.” She then stood up and faced me. “I’m so sorry, Lu. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. I reckon a week at least. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”
“Take as much time as you need,” I said, even though panic was seeping in. “I’m so sorry about your mama. You’ll both be in my thoughts.”
“Mine, too,” Juliet said, empathy etched deeply in her green eyes.
Edie gave us a weak smile and set her cup on the counter. “Thank you. I should get going. There’s so much to do.”
Nettie put an arm around her. “I’ll walk you out.”
As soon as they were through the front doors, a cool wind whistled through the library. I didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind me.
Katy said, “Hi, Miss Evanthe!”
“Hello, Miss Katy. And Juliet, if I recall correctly?”
Juliet nodded and said, “Hello again.”
Mary Joy buried her head into my chest and rubbed her face side to side. With the motion, I guessed I had about two minutes before she started fussing. It was coming on nap time.
Evanthe gazed at the baby. “Is something amiss?”
I quickly explained about Edie. “I just need to call—”
Anxiety flooded through my veins, somehow hot and icy at the same time, as I realized that I didn’t want to hand Mary Joy over to anyone. I just wanted to hold her and not let go. I’d been so scared. I still was, for some reason.
“I can watch her this afternoon. And while Miss Edie is away,” Juliet offered with a sweet smile. “I’m going to be in town until the Flour Festival at least.”
My heart was thumping. Mary Joy must’ve sensed my uneasiness because she let out a whimper. I didn’t know how to explain what I was feeling.
Evanthe drew in a deep breath, and I swear it rattled the windowpanes. “Take your baby home, Tallulah. I will cover for you.”
“But we’re already short-staffed,” I began.
“Go home, Tallulah.” Her tone was firm. “I will see you tomorrow. Without the little ones, I trust.”
I held her gaze, thoroughly confused.
She tipped her head to the side, blinked. “Do not forget to clock out.”
With that, she turned around and walked away.
Juliet
The children’s section of the library was sunlit, colorful, and charming.
Carpet squares in rainbow colors covered the floor.
In addition to the bookshelves, there were beanbags, toys, and tiny tables and chairs that made me feel a bit like a giant.
The space radiated joy, and I tried to soak it in because I was on edge.
I glanced toward the STAFF ONLY door that Tallulah, with Mary Joy still in her arms, had disappeared behind a few minutes ago. She was collecting her belongings before we all headed back to Tenn’s.
I wished she’d taken me up on my offer to watch Mary Joy for the rest of the day. It made me uneasy, knowing someone was in distress and I couldn’t help them.
Katy had been insistent on checking out a few books before we left the library but must’ve understood we didn’t have time to linger because she said, “I’ll just get three today.”
Three was definitely a step down from what she’d been envisioning.
The library was quiet this afternoon with only a half dozen other patrons here. A few people were browsing the adult section, and two were seated in study carrels not too far away. One was playing a computer game.
At the moment, Katy and I were alone in the children’s area. Well, that wasn’t quite true. Deckle, the fluffy black cat, had followed us. He currently sat atop a low shelf. His eyes were a pale gold, and I’d swear, hand to heaven, that there were decades of wisdom in his gaze.
“Juliet! Look!” Katy bounced up from the floor and ran over to me. She held a slim paperback in her hand. The cover illustration was of a young girl riding a dragon.
“That looks good,” I said. “And it seems like it’s the first in a series, too.”
Her eyes widened behind her glasses. “I’ll be right back.”
I smiled as she practically dove onto the floor to check for sequels. I made a mental note to give Tallulah a heads-up about a dragon party in case Katy forgot to mention it. I might wait a day or two, though, to allow Tallulah’s stress levels to drop a bit, or else I feared she might implode.
As I waited for Katy, I absently turned a small wooden rack, looking at titles.
The next thing I knew, Deckle was standing at my side, and with one swipe of a paw, he knocked a book off the rack, onto the floor. “Hey,” I said, bending down to pick it up, noticing that it was a Berenstain Bears book.
I was about to put it back on the rack when Katy jumped up again and stopped me. “No, no! You have to sniff it.”
I tipped my head. “What?”
She bounced up and down, full of excitement. “It’s what Deckle does. If he knocks a book off the shelf, you need to smell it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“You have to!”
I glanced at the cat, as if expecting him to agree with me that this was bizarre. Instead, he sat there, swishing his tail, as if … waiting.
I looked at the cover of the book. The bears were in their treehouse and through the window were dark skies and lightning bolts.
In a flash, I was back in a hospital bed, hearing the worst news possible—that my grandfather hadn’t survived the lightning strike—and realizing I had no memory of him at all.
My hands started shaking, and my chest squeezed tight.
Suddenly I could barely pull in a breath.
I felt a hand on my arm. “Juliet? Are you okay?”
Tallulah. I faced her, and I wasn’t sure what she saw, but she quickly took the book out of my hands, left it next to Deckle. “Let’s go and get some fresh air. Why don’t you push Mary Joy,” she said, placing my hands on the stroller.
As if knowing my knees had gone weak.
“But, Mama,” Katy said.
“We’ll come back for your books,” she said.
“But—”
“Katy June Byrd Mayfield.”
Katy huffed but didn’t say another word.
As we made our way toward the front doors, I glanced back at the children’s section. Deckle still sat on the bookshelf.
He was watching us leave, his golden eyes filled with sadness.