Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
She was so done with those stupid sea lions.
Five days in, and she’d made zero progress getting past them. Wasn’t there anyone in town who had an effective solution?
Emma stood in front of an A-frame building with its rough-hewn logs and bright white trim.
Redemption’s community library hadn’t changed much in the last two decades.
Dollops of white snow dotted the sidewalk, and jagged icicles marched along the roofline above the rectangular windows.
The sculpture of a grizzly bear clutching a salmon in its mouth still stood near the front door.
Her phone hummed with an incoming text. She hesitated outside the entrance, shivering in the frigid morning air, then glanced at the screen. Nathan’s message sent a spark of warmth zipping through her.
Nathan
I miss you, babe. Hope you’re making progress. Annual fundraiser for pediatric hospital is March 18th this year. Can you get our tickets, please?
Oh no. She read the message again. His words sank in, and the warmth faded, replaced by an aching chill that curled around her ribs.
She’d been so distracted with this trip and the house that she’d forgotten all about the fundraiser for the children’s hospital.
The Prescotts never missed it. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Would now be a good time to mention that at this point she probably wouldn’t be back in Boston by March 18?
Instead, she shoved her phone back into her bag.
Maybe she’d come up with an acceptable way to evict the sea lions and get the house cleaned up and on the market in the next five days.
Then she’d be back on track. On her way to Boston with time to spare.
She pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside.
This place had been her refuge, especially in middle school.
A quiet place to escape the chaos and arguments brewing at home.
Books transported her to places where families didn’t fall apart and life didn’t always feel like a fight.
The familiar scent of old paper wrapped around her like a warm embrace.
She surveyed the sunken floor in the children’s section, with a few beanbags and two comfy chairs arranged around rainbow-colored carpet squares.
Taxidermied birds native to Alaska hung suspended on a mobile overhead.
The place seemed smaller than she remembered, though maybe her sentimental memories had exaggerated it.
“Good morning, Emma.”
The familiar voice stopped her mid-step.
She turned to see Mrs. Manning standing near the front desk, a stack of books in her arms. Dressed in a cozy sweater, bell-bottom jeans, and sensible clogs, she hadn’t changed much.
Even her hair, more silver now than brown, was still coiled into a neat, no-nonsense bun at the nape of her neck.
“I was hoping you’d stop by.”
“Mrs. Manning.” Emma smiled. “Do you still work here?”
“Oh, heavens no. I retired three years ago,” Mrs. Manning said, setting the books down. “But I volunteer when I can. Old habits die hard.”
“I get that.” Emma hesitated, shifting her purse strap higher on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here because I need your help.”
Mrs. Manning’s kind blue eyes twinkled. “Looking for a compulsive read or trying to solve a mystery?”
“Some of both, maybe.” Emma glanced toward the shelves. “I need to learn about sea lions, and so far the Internet’s not doing me any favors.”
Mrs. Manning’s brows raised. “Ah, yes, I understand you need to serve an eviction notice.”
“Ha.” Emma shook her head. “You sound like Luke McGuire.”
Mrs. Manning scrunched up her nose. “This probably isn’t the best time for jokes, is it? Let’s start back here.” She led Emma to a section in the far corner, past a couple of tables with computers advertising free Internet service and resources for tax preparation.
“Let’s see what we can find. Are you looking for regulations, statutes, or perhaps previous cases?”
“I guess all of the above.” Emma sighed, rubbing her temple. “I’ve got to figure out how to get them off my property.”
“I understand.” Mrs. Manning paused, her forehead wrinkling as her fingers trailed along books shelved in the reference section. “I wonder if an online search would be more effective?”
“Maybe you have access to digital archives or something that I wouldn’t know how to find.
I’ll take any advice you can give,” Emma said.
“Luke and I went out to the house twice. At least two dozen sea lions are sprawled across the dock, the deck, and the beach. You can hardly hear yourself think over all the noise they’re making. ”
Mrs. Manning gave an empathetic nod. “That’s quite the dilemma. What did Fish and Game have to say?”
“Told me to wait it out. Apparently, they’ll leave eventually.”
Mrs. Manning gave her a knowing look. “But you don’t have time to wait.”
“Exactly,” Emma said, taking the magazine Mrs. Manning handed her.
“I have a life in Boston, a job, a wedding to plan.” She cut herself off, shaking her head.
“Nathan—my fiancé—is going to get impatient if I have to stay longer than ten days. He doesn’t understand why I can’t just sign some papers or list the place and be done. ”
“Is there something else going on?” Mrs. Manning studied her. “What’s stopping you from listing the house and then going back to Boston?”
“If I can’t get past the sea lions and into the house, how will I stage everything? I imagine there’s damage from the tidal wave. Or what if a previous renter trashed the place?” She followed Mrs. Manning as she walked to another shelf and plucked out a couple more magazines.
“Valid points. Sea lions are protected, you know. You can’t just shoo them away.”
“Oh, believe me, I know.” Emma scanned a page about migration patterns. “That’s why I need to figure out another solution. There has to be something I can do to speed this up.”
Mrs. Manning slid some magazines and a hardcover book onto a table nearby. “And what happens if you can’t?”
Emma stared down at the pictures of sleek bodies sunning themselves on rocky shores.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to leave, I guess.
I can’t put my entire life on hold because a bunch of sea lions decided to move in.
But my mother confessed recently that she hasn’t paid the property taxes in quite some time, so I feel obligated to make that right.
Or maybe part of me still clings to the good memories and isn’t willing to let the place go.
Sadly, at this point the house could slide off into the sea and I wouldn’t be able to intervene. ”
Mrs. Manning hesitated, then offered a thoughtful smile. “I can’t do anything about those sea lions or the unpaid taxes, but please know that we’re happy to have you here for as long as you’re willing to stay.”
Emma’s heart pinched. “Really?”
“Of course.” Mrs. Manning clasped her hands together. “Not everyone associates your name with negativity, despite the local gossip that tries to make you believe otherwise.”
Mrs. O’Brien’s rude comments paired with Joe’s criticism at the pizza place flitted through Emma’s head. She brushed the hurtful words aside. Mostly because she respected Mrs. Manning too much to argue. “What else are you into these days? When you’re not volunteering here.”
“I love water aerobics, but since the tidal wave, we’ve struggled finding an instructor for the seniors’ class. Our previous instructor left town, and we haven’t found a replacement.”
“I’m planning to be here for five more days. Maybe I could fill in one time?”
Mrs. Manning’s eyes lit up. “Oh, we would love that.”
“Don’t get too excited. I wasn’t much of a swimmer back in the day. Placed last in every event.” Emma shivered at the memory. “But I’m happy to help if I can.”
“You’re probably the only one who remembers that.” Mrs. Manning patted her arm. “Besides, don’t you work at a fitness center now? I thought I heard that about you.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Then you’re all set. We just need you to lead some exercises in the water. It’s only an hour. These folks would love having someone young and energetic around.”
Emma opened her mouth to protest again that she wasn’t the best person to lead water aerobics, but Mrs. Manning tilted her head, giving her that same expectant look she used to give when Emma was in junior high and trying to avoid writing a paper.
“You were always a natural leader,” Mrs. Manning said, her tone gentle but pointed. “And sometimes giving back is the best way to feel at home.”
Emma swallowed hard. “This place hasn’t been home for a long time.”
“True, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be home again, right?”
Here in this library, with Mrs. Manning looking at her like she still saw something good in her, it didn’t feel like such a far-fetched idea.
“Maybe.” Emma sighed, then pulled out her phone. “Now, can you please help me figure out what I should search on the Internet to get some answers?”
“Yes, come with me.”
Mrs. Manning led the way back to the front desk. As Emma trailed behind, her phone buzzed again. She fished it out and glanced at the screen.
Brittney
Hey, I haven’t heard much from you. How are things? You’re coming back, right?
Emma’s steps slowed. Based on the winky-face emoji, Brittney was likely just teasing. Still, her insides twisted. Five days wasn’t long. She was running out of time. And options.
Man, he hadn’t realized how much he needed a night out.