Chapter Seventeen
Seventeen
A Pearl of Wisdom
from Tenn Greenlee
“Let me tell you, in order to make the best cup of tea, you must never ever squeeze the tea bag.”
Tallulah
Saturday morning dawned dark and dreary and much too early, especially considering how little sleep I’d had.
It was just past six, and I was sitting at the kitchen island, nursing a cup of coffee and rereading the University of Alabama brochure I’d taken home from the library.
I’d stuck it in my tote bag yesterday, when I’d packed up after Evanthe ordered me to go home, though I wasn’t sure why I’d taken it. There were so many reasons not to go back to school. Time, mostly. I was already spread so thin between the girls and work and life.
But … I couldn’t stop thinking about a memory from when I was younger. I’d been visiting Papaw and Mamaw, and I’d gone to work with her and spent the day following her around, helping her with small tasks.
I’d been in seventh heaven.
As I helped her shelve, I’d said, “I’m going to be a librarian just like you when I grow up.”
She’d cupped my cheek with her soft hand. “I have no doubt that one day, Lu, you’ll be running this whole place.”
This place.
The Forget-Me-Not Library.
My gaze lingered on the deadline for the MLIS application. If I wanted to start classes next spring, I had to apply by November. Which gave me plenty of time to think it over.
When I heard Papaw shuffling his way down the stairs—a sound I’d become accustomed to over the last few days—I stuffed the brochure back into my tote bag and said, “Need a hand?”
“I’ve got it, sweetheart. What’s that delightful scent?”
“Pancakes. There’s plenty.”
“Just how long have you been up?”
“Awhile.”
Mary Joy had a fitful night. Not waking fully, just restless. Every time she made a noise, however, my eyes popped open. Then, around four this morning, I’d woken up with a start from a dream about the little fixer-upper cottage near the library.
In it, I had seen myself inside the house, running my hand along the arched opening of the fireplace, my fingertips tracing a delicate carving, trying to figure out the pattern because the stone had been too dirty to see it clearly.
It had felt so real, the dream. So much so that when I woke up, I was surprised my hands weren’t filthy.
Only a few minutes after I woke up, I heard Katy crying. She’d had another nightmare that left her trembling and scared. Whispering all the soothing words I knew, I’d carried her into my bedroom and climbed back into bed, tucking her close to my side. Soon she was back to sleep.
But I had stayed wide awake. Worrying about her.
At a little after five, I finally gave up on sleep and made my way downstairs. After getting a pot of coffee on to brew, I’d made pancakes, a big batch that was currently keeping warm in the oven, letting my troubles fade into the background while I focused on measuring and mixing and cooking.
At the sound of a low groan coming from the stairway, I went to check Papaw. I about near fell over when I saw him. “Your face!”
Grinning, he carefully lowered himself down another step. “Spiffy, don’t you think?”
His beard was gone. Shaved clean off.
I just kept blinking. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him without facial hair. Had I ever? “But why?”
His cheeks turned pink. “Truth be told, my hand slipped while shaving, then I got carried away trying to fix the mess. You don’t like it?”
“No, no, it’s not that.” I hated it. “I just need some time to adjust, is all. It’s a big change.”
He chuckled. “Surely is. I almost didn’t recognize my own self in the mirror. You know I’m a modest man, Lu, but I have to say, I’ve aged pretty darn well.”
I smiled, glad he could find a silver lining in the situation. “I’d agree with that. Looks like your back is doing better, too. Another few days and you’ll probably be strong enough to lead another swamp tour.”
“It was a lake.”
When he made it to the bottom of the stairs, he pressed a non-bristly kiss to my forehead, then headed for the kitchen, saying, “How’s Katy doin’? She get back to sleep okay?”
I trailed behind him. “I was hoping she hadn’t woken you.”
He put the kettle on for tea since he wasn’t a coffee drinker and pulled a tea bag from a canister. “You know me. I’m a light sleeper.”
He most definitely was not. He slept like the dead.
“She fell back to sleep fairly quickly.” I opened the oven door and used a fork to pull out three pancakes from the stack resting on a cookie sheet. I set them on a plate.
“Did she remember what the bad dream was about?”
I shook my head. I was going to call her pediatrician on Monday, just to get some advice on what to do next, because I felt like I was in over my head.
Papaw and I chitchatted while he ate, about anything and everything, and after he was finished, he carried his steaming mug of tea into the dining room to fuss with his carving.
Cup of coffee in hand, I headed outside to enjoy the early coolness.
All down the road, sprinklers were on, misting front lawns and flower beds.
The scent of wet grass filled the air as I lowered myself down onto the top porch step.
I then glanced upward at Bill, in all his leafy glory, and said, “Good morning, sir.”
“Sir is a little formal, but good morning to you, too.”
I jumped, nearly spilling my coffee. Jake and Daisy were on the sidewalk. With the sprinkler noise, I hadn’t heard them approach.
I smiled. “I was talking to the oak tree, but hello.”
Jake tightened his grip on Daisy’s leash as she strained to reach me and said, “You talk to trees? Down, Daisy. Down.”
Daisy paid him no attention whatsoever as she stampeded left, then zoomed right.
“Of course. Don’t you?”
Ordinarily, I’d be mortified to be caught out here in my jammies, barefoot, with no makeup on, my hair piled atop my head, held in place with a bright pink scrunchie. But I wasn’t. Not even a little.
“Of course,” he echoed. “But I thought I was the only one.”
I narrowed my gaze, trying to tell if he was joking, but he didn’t seem to be. “This is Bill,” I said, pointing to the old oak. “He’s Katy’s favorite.”
“He’s impressive.” Daisy leaped and whined. Jake said, “Sit, Daisy.”
She did not sit.
I lifted my eyebrows. “I see that puppy training is going well.”
A flicker of a smile ghosted across his face. “Perhaps if I had a book on training, things would be going better.”
“Perhaps”—I took a sip of my coffee—“I know where you can find one. I put the one you were looking at the other day on hold in case you were still interested in checking it out.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to stop by. For Daisy’s sake.”
Smiling, I held up my mug. “Would you like some coffee? There’s plenty inside.”
“Thanks, but no. I should get going.”
I tipped my head. “To work?”
His smile stayed put this time. “As a matter of fact, yes.”
“Hmm. Working early hours on a Saturday. Insurance?”
“No.”
“Finance?”
“No.”
I wrinkled my nose. “IT?”
“No.”
“What was your degree in college?”
His brown eyes twinkled. “Bachelor of science.”
Huh. “Really?”
“Why do you look shocked?” he asked, trying not to laugh.
“Because I’m just trying to think of a science job you can do from home.”
“You’d be surprised.”
I heard a noise behind me and glanced over my shoulder. Papaw was pushing open the screen door. “Thought I heard you talking to someone. And I’ll be! Daisy’s here. Doesn’t this just make my day?”
Jake unclipped Daisy’s leash, and she darted past me, heading straight to Papaw, who gave her lots of loving. “Who’s been a good girl?”
She whined and wiggled and slurped his clean-shaven face.
Jake came up next to me and smiled. “Shameless.”
“Her or him?” I asked.
He laughed. “Both?”
I thought he might be right about that.
“Can you stay for breakfast?” Papaw asked Jake. “Lu’s fixed a mess of pancakes. There’s enough for a whole army.”
“Pancakes?” Jake said, throwing me a wry glance. “I didn’t know there were pancakes at play. I’d love some. Thanks.”
“Come on in then.” Papaw pulled open the screen door, and Daisy raced inside ahead of him like she owned the place.
I stood up, dusted myself off, and looked at Jake. “I thought you had to get to work?”
“It can wait,” he said. “Some things are more important.”
The way he looked at me made my skin hot, and suddenly I could hear Nettie’s voice in my head talking about sparks.
“Like pancakes?” I asked.
“Exactly.”
As I slipped past him, something shifted inside me. Inside my heart. It felt a little like it was making room for him. Lots and lots of room.