ELEVEN
We left Melanie in charge during the quiet part of the afternoon and headed outside. I climbed into the bookmobile, an inventory sheet on a clipboard tucked under my arm.
"While we're waiting for patrons, we can double-check the books on board," I said to Blake. "Kill two birds with one stone."
He didn't seem overly impressed with my forward thinking. "And where are we going first?"
"Milburn Road. There are a ton of young families there, and most of them don't make it downtown all that often."
I sat in the driver's seat and snapped the belt in place. I didn't hesitate at all as I started the engine. I wasn't about to let Blake think I was intimidated by this behemoth. "Are you buckled?"
He glared at me from the passenger seat.
"What?" I said. "We need to be safe, don't we?"
"No seatbelt in creation is going to keep me safe if you go out of control."
I turned to face him. "I've never gotten a ticket. I never speed. I don't weave from side to side, and I don't even change the radio station unless I'm at a red light or parked. Why are you so down on me?"
"I don't question your driving skills in general, Addie. But this is a huge vehicle, and you're a short girl."
I threw up my hands. "I'm tired of discussing how short I am, and I already know how big this vehicle is. Unless you can offer some new argument, I'm ready to go."
"Fine. Go."
I edged out of the parking lot and onto the road. I did swerve just a bit as I righted the long back end of the mobile, but after only a few minutes, I had a feel for it and we were cruising along just fine. After another moment had gone by, I glanced at Blake. He was no longer clutching the door handle for dear life, and I thought he might even look slightly accepting of his inevitable fate-er, afternoon's activities.
We reached our destination, and I brought the bookmobile to a halt near a grassy field where we'd be easy to spot.
"Now," I said brightly, "let's start the inventory."
"Don't we drive around and wait for someone to flag us down?" Blake asked.
"Like the ice cream truck? Okay, you lean out the window and sing a catchy tune, and we'll see who comes."
He ignored my sarcasm, climbed into the back, and propped open the cupboards. The contents didn't look like they'd shifted much on the drive, which was a relief. I didn't want Blake to have any further reason to rib me, and an avalanche of books landing on his head would give him an excellent reason.
We'd gone through one cupboard and identified twenty books for the discard pile when we got our first patrons. Millie Calhoun and her little daughter, Amber, climbed aboard, and Amber headed straight for the picture books.
"Is it true, Addie?" Millie's eyes filled with tears. "I ran into Heather, and she told me Autumn said that Nichole told her Kim said that the library is closing."
I couldn't even track what she'd just said, so I went for the answer. "We have six more months in the building, and then we'll be moving into a temporary location. But the new building will be great once it's built."
"Well, I told Heather she had to be mistaken. I just can't believe it. And we'll never love the new place. It won't be the same."
"I'm sure it will be very nice," Blake said, coming from the back of the bus with his arms full of books. Millie's eyes grew wide when she caught sight of him. "It will just be a matter of getting used to it, that's all," he continued.
"And who are you?" Millie's voice was suddenly flirtatious. I shook my head and smiled. I'd seen this same thing over and over again at the library. What was it about Blake that had that effect on women, married or single, young or old-and probably dead as well as living? Okay, he was nice-looking. I had come to the point where I could admit it now. But he was no Rob.
"I'm Blake. I'm new at the library."
"I can tell I've missed out by not coming in lately." She tugged on a lock of her hair, twisting it around her finger.
"Mommy, I want this one," Amber said, holding up a picture book about a frog going on a sleepover, and bringing her mother back down to earth with what appeared to be a crash. Millie blinked.
"All right. We'll take this one, Addie. And do you have any new mysteries?"
I reached on the shelf behind me. "I knew you'd ask, so I brought these just for you."
She took them gratefully, and I jotted down the titles next to her name. Then she left, casting a regretful glance at Blake. I smothered my chuckle until she was out of earshot.
"I think she could have browsed all day," I said, but he didn't seem to catch my meaning.
"She seemed happy with what she got."
"But some people prefer browsing to actually taking things home. Especially when their bookshelves are already full." He still didn't understand, and that was just as well. I wasn't about to explain it to him.
??
Luke was visiting Melanie in the library when we returned, but he ducked out the door with a wave when he saw us come in from the parking lot. Blake was just getting his second wind.
"You'd think the city would institute some sort of law stating that driveways have to be a certain width, and that the gates leading in to driveways have to be wide as well."
"What is he talking about?" Melanie asked me under her breath.
I didn't bother to soften my voice when I replied, "Well, turns out I'm such a good bookmobile driver, he thought it looked easy. And he decided he wanted a turn. So I let him drive home."
"You let me drive home?" Blake turned my direction, his eyes afire. "Like, it's your bookmobile, and you let me drive it?"
"It's not your bookmobile," I pointed out. "And I relinquished the driver's seat to you. Is that better?"
"Only marginally."
"So, what happened?" Melanie pressed.
"He decided to go down Thurman Lane."
"Oh, no."
"Exactly. I tried telling him it was too narrow, but he didn't believe me."
"I'm new in town. I don't know these things."
"Which is why you should listen to me. I've lived here my entire life." I turned back to Melanie. "Then he decided to turn around in the Abbotts' driveway."
Melanie covered her eyes with her hands. "Oh, no."
"Yes. He hit their fence and pulled down some slats, and he now owes them a couple hundred dollars for repairs."
"How's the bookmobile?"
"That's all you can say? 'How's the bookmobile?' Why not, 'Blake, are you hurt?' or 'Blake, are you all right?'"
She gave him an appraising look. "Blake, were you humiliated?"
He stomped away, and I grinned. "It was a good comeuppance for him. I was pleased."
"Were the Abbotts mad?"
"No, they were okay about it. They just want him to be sure to cough up the cash by this weekend so they can make the repairs. He said he has some money in savings, so that shouldn't be a problem."
I followed Melanie over to the counter. "Was it busy here, or were you all right?"
"We only had a few patrons, so it was okay to stay open while you went out. I don't think we'd better try it on a Saturday, though."
"I agree. I think we'll make Thursday our bookmobile day. Too much going on otherwise." I paused, thinking she'd bring up Luke on her own, but she didn't. "I noticed you had a visitor."
"Yeah, Luke came in for a minute."
"Things still good there?"
"Yeah. And speaking of that, I need to pass on our movie night. Is that okay? He got us tickets to the Stormy Skies concert."
Melanie came over to my house every week to watch a DVD, but Stormy Skies was her favorite band, so I could see why she'd want to cancel on me. "Sure, not a problem. What a sweet thing for him to do."
"Yeah, he's a pretty sweet guy."
A patron came up to the circulation desk, and Melanie turned to help him. I'd have to wait until later to get the juicy details.
I checked in and shelved the books that had come into the book drop while we were gone. I couldn't help but notice Blake's sulky face through the gaps in the stacks, and I smiled.
??
I walked into the house and stopped short, literally unable to go further. Boxes were everywhere, stacked in the kitchen so high that I couldn't even see my mother. I knew she had to be in there somewhere, since I could hear a faint rustling and some breathing. It was definitely either my mother or a very large mouse. Maybe Scampers had gotten loose again and eaten some kind of mutant growth hormone. Or he really was an animagus.
"Mom?"
"Right here, Addie." She pushed aside a stack of boxes, and I could see that she was exhausted-her hair was falling out of her ponytail and framing her smudged face, and her forehead was damp. She wiped it with the back of her hand.
"You've been really busy today."
"Yeah." She looked around, nodding. "Kitchen's almost done. Did you know we have four pasta strainers? Who needs four pasta strainers? We're having a yard sale."
"Probably a good idea." I sucked in my stomach and slid between two stacks, ending up by the counter. "Um, what should we do about dinner?"
"Oh. Dinner." The fridge was blocked, as was the oven. It looked pretty hopeless. "I think it's probably a good night for Little Caesars. Let's all go pick it up-we could use a break."
"Are the kids around, or did you pack them?"
"They're in their rooms. I asked them to go find stuff they didn't want anymore."
"I'll tell them to get ready."
I threaded my way toward the hall-and safety. Once out of the maze of boxes, I climbed the stairs and found Jenni sitting in the middle of her room, holding a doll. The box on the floor next to her was empty.
"Do you ever think about Toy Story when you look at your stuff?" she asked me.
I laughed and sat next to her. "Having a hard time?"
"I've had this doll since I was three, and I never play with her anymore. But I can't just get rid of her. What if she comes alive and starts to cry? I mean, I know that's silly, but what if she does?"
I thought for a minute. Those movies had seemed real-now I was going to have guilt. "What if we found a nice daycare to give your toys to? A really nice daycare, not one with a big purple bear for a villain."
"We could do that, I guess," she said.
"Or we could give them to the nursery at church."
Her eyes lit up. "That's a great idea, Addie! Why didn't I think of that?" She placed the doll in the box, suddenly energized.
"Hey, put on your shoes. We're getting pizza for dinner."
"We are?"
We hadn't gone out to eat much since Dad died, and not at all since working over the budget. "Yeah, Mom can't find the kitchen."
"Okay, I'll be ready in a minute."
I found Benji in his room, but his problem was the total opposite of Jenni's. His box was completely full, and he was still tossing things into it. They bounced off the top and landed on the floor, but he didn't seem to care.
"Hey, we're getting pizza. Hungry?"
"Yeah." He picked up a book, then turned it over in his hands a couple of times. "Mom said to get rid of the stuff we don't want anymore. I don't really want any of it."
I looked over his pile. Sports equipment, trophies, video games-all things he'd done with Dad. "Too many memories?"
"Yeah." His monosyllabic response was the only thing I needed to hear. I crossed the floor to him and put my arm around his shoulders.
"Remembering isn't all bad, Benji. We had a lot of good times, didn't we?"
"We had the best times."
"We really did." I bent down and picked up his most recent basketball trophy. "I think you'd regret it if you got rid of all this stuff. Sure, it hurts to look at it, but it feels good, too, doesn't it?"
He took the trophy from me and stared at the little man on top. "Dad helped me with my layup, and it was a layup shot that won me this."
"It was his victory, and it was yours. I'd sure hate to see you throw it away."
Benji puffed out a deep breath. "I guess you're right. And I guess I have to go through that box again."
"Piece of cake."
Mom called up the stairs. "Come on, kids! The pizza's going to be cold if we don't hurry!"
"I thought it was hot and ready," Benji said, grabbing his shoes.
"Not at the rate we're going."
Benji stepped past me into the hall, and I flipped off his bedroom light. I stood in the darkness for a second, remembering how I'd watched Dad teach Benji those awesome layup skills. We'd really had some great times.
Thanks for reading this chapter!
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Text Copyright © 2012 by Tristi Pinkston
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ISBN: 978-0-9838293-6-2