Chapter Eighteen
Eighteen
A Pearl of Wisdom
from Maeve Hearnshaw
“Look for true friends in times of trouble, not happiness.”
Tallulah
Nearly two and a half hours later, I glanced at the clock. I had to leave or I was going to be late for work.
Yet I was frozen in place, holding tightly on to Mary Joy.
Once again, I didn’t want to let go of her.
Mostly because she wasn’t feeling well. She’d been sick to her stomach not long after eating breakfast and had been crying on and off since then. Right now, she was whining while burrowing her face in my shoulder.
“There’s a summer flu going around.” I pressed my cheek to the top of Mary Joy’s head, gauging her temperature. I’d taken it earlier, and it had been normal, despite her cheeks being flushed. “She’s been sneezing a lot this morning.”
“No coughing, though,” Juliet said, trying to get a good look at Mary Joy’s face.
In addition to the red cheeks, her blue eyes were teary, and the rash around her lips looked especially angry this morning. She was practically the personification of illness. “I’ve heard that teething can cause stomach upset.”
“It can,” Juliet said, “or possibly she doesn’t like pancakes. Has she had them before?”
On the couch, Papaw and Katy sat at opposite ends, noses buried in books. Katy was curled up with a throw blanket, and Papaw sat tall with the lamb heating pad behind his back.
Up until Mary Joy had become ill, it had been a nice morning, even though it had been nowhere close to our normal routine.
Katy had laughed with delight at seeing Papaw’s shaved face, but Mary Joy had cried her eyes out and refused to be held by him. He vowed to grow his whiskers back as soon as possible.
Thank goodness.
Jake had kept us all entertained during breakfast with tales of Daisy’s adventures. Or misadventures, as the case might be. She’d already chewed through a computer cable, torn the blinds off the window, and shredded a couch cushion. He was keeping a running tab to reimburse Vera.
He’d sat next to Katy at the table, and she’d excitedly shouted out every animal she saw on his arm tattoo, all tucked secretly into the woodland design.
Hedgehogs and opossums and chipmunks. She’d been beside herself with happiness, and I thought it was just what she’d needed after the night she’d had.
Jake and Daisy had stayed for a while after we ate, and Jake helped Juliet and me clean up while Papaw and Katy played with Daisy in the backyard. It wasn’t until after they left that Mary Joy went downhill fast.
I drew in a breath. “No, she hasn’t had pancakes before, but she only had a few bites.” Mostly, she’d had her usual oatmeal and yogurt, which she had gobbled up.
Mary Joy had been good, great even, before breakfast. Despite her fitful night, she’d woken up with smiles, had cooed and gurgled and played and gnawed on a cold teething ring.
“Maybe it was the pancakes,” I said. “Or teething. Or the flu. Ugh.”
Empathy flashed in Juliet’s eyes.
I kissed Mary Joy’s forehead again. “I wish more than anything that she could tell us what was wrong. Poor, sweet baby. I hate leaving her like this.”
“I know. But she seems to be feeling better now. Sleepy but better.”
I held Juliet’s gaze, let her see my fear clear as day. “You’ll call me if she spikes a fever or gets sick again?”
Juliet held out her arms. “I have you on speed dial.”
I gave Mary Joy another kiss, then reluctantly handed her over to Juliet. Mary Joy immediately started burrowing into her chest, which made my heart ache.
I consoled myself with the knowledge that Saturdays were my short days at work, so I’d be home by two. Then I’d have two blissful days with the girls, since the library was closed on Sundays and Mondays.
“She’s due for her nap at nine thirty, but if she needs to go down before then, just let her. There are bottles in the fridge and mashed sweet potat—”
“Tallulah”—Juliet smiled—“you told me already.”
I sighed. Nodded. I’d written everything out, too. I just … I didn’t want to leave. “And remember no sweets. I’m trying to hold off until she’s one.”
“No fun, you mean,” Papaw called out from the couch.
I frowned. Deeply.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Juliet said. “I promise.”
I had to let go. I had to.
“Okay.” With tears threatening, I quickly bid my goodbyes to Papaw and Katy and rushed out the door before I could change my mind.
I’d been off all morning.
Just a vague feeling of unease.
I fought to shake it as I’d pulled holds, texted Juliet a billion times, restocked the Flour Festival display, wondered why I couldn’t stop thinking about the storybook Tudor across the street, helped a patron fill out an online job application, and listened to the happy squeals of the children enjoying a visit from Kiki, the therapy dog—a program so popular that Nettie was lobbying for it to become a regular monthly program.
It was almost noon now, and I was currently in the workroom processing books—stamping, stickering, covering—along with Evanthe.
Because this was such a small library—and she was very hands-on—she could often be found doing the same tasks as the rest of us.
I honestly didn’t know how she did it all.
Being director came with its own set of demands and time commitments.
Sitting on a stool across the wooden worktable, she was swathed in lavender linen so pale it almost appeared gray, her hair in its usual braid.
She worked efficiently, no motion wasted.
From applying the Vistafoil to the book and then wielding a bone folder to eliminate bubbles like a woman on a mission.
I was tempted to take notes.
Deckle was sitting in an empty paper box on the counter near the copy machine, looking happy as could be.
He hadn’t been nearly as antagonistic today as usual, and I wondered if he could sense my mood. A hair ball right now might send me over the edge.
The big workroom had a door with a window.
Every once in a while, I’d see Isabel or one of the volunteers pass by and wished someone would come in and break the tension.
As it was, I’d been trying to make small talk with Evanthe for half an hour now, and her one- or two-word replies were downright painful.
Yet as I carefully placed a YA sticker on a spine, I tried again.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said.
Her gaze cut to me, an eyebrow lifted.
“I was talking with … a friend about trivia games recently, and one of the things that came up was pub quiz trivia, and I was thinking it would be a fun thing to do if the closest bar wasn’t the Broken Wheel, which isn’t ideal.”
She nodded at that as if in complete agreement, then added, “And?”
As if knowing I was leading her somewhere.
“It might be nice if the library had a trivia night once a month.” I set aside the book I’d been working on and picked up another.
“Questions would be literature-based, of course. Prizes could come from within the community, like a gift card to the Bean Patch or Snug’s or even library merchandise, like mugs or tote bags. ”
Slowly, she started nodding. “Can you prepare a full ten-minute proposal and present it in three weeks’ time, ahead of the next board meeting?”
I stiffened just a little with panic, then smiled. She was giving me the chance to run my own program. “I can.”
“Splendid.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly, meaning it.
Something soft flashed in her eyes. “I shall always give audience to those who take initiative.”
When she went back to wrapping books and paying me little attention, I glanced around the room searching for another topic to tack onto the conversation, to keep it going.
My gaze bounced off reams of paper, art supplies, the scanner, the printer, the binding machine, the paper cutter with the guillotine arm that I called the chopping block, and, of course, Deckle, who was still watching me. Right up until his gaze shifted, looking at something over my shoulder.
I swiveled on my stool.
Jed was peeking into the room, waving, a grin on his face, cheerfulness lighting up his blue eyes. When he saw me looking, he ducked away. I threw a look at Evanthe and caught a shy smile on her face and her hand in mid-wave.
Her gaze narrowed on me, as if silently warning me not to say a word.
Outwardly, I zipped my lips. Inwardly, however, I was jumping with joy. Had I just caught a glimpse of the Evanthe my mamaw used to know? If so, this was my time to act, to wiggle my way past her walls while her defenses were down.
“Evanthe?”
“Yes?” she said sharply.
“Do you have plans for tonight?”
Her lips pursed. “Why do you ask?”
“Book club is tonight. I was hoping you’d be there.”
As far as I knew, she’d never attended, though Nettie had mentioned she always extended an invitation.
Before Evanthe could say no, I rushed on. “I’ve only been to one meeting since moving to Forget-Me-Not and it’s just plain fun. I spent the whole time thinking my mamaw would’ve loved to be there. Lots of food, lots of laughs, lots of book talk.”
I carefully stickered another paperback and hoped I hadn’t laid it on too thick.
“Why do you want me to attend?” she asked, clearly suspicious if the look in her eyes was any indication.
I gave a little shrug and tried to get as close to the truth as possible. “Because if Mamaw was here, she’d talk you into going with her. Since she’s not, she’d want me to ask you, because any friend of hers is a friend of mine.”
Thin lips pinched together and her hands stilled. Finally, she said, “I’ll take it under consideration, but do not count on it.”
Because she hadn’t said no outright, I took it as a win.
Smiling, I glanced at Deckle and couldn’t help thinking that he looked pleased, too.