NINETEEN
I washed my face, scrubbing off the tear stains from the last few hours, and rejoined Melanie and my mom in the living room. Mel had a small stack of candy bar wrappers on the table in front of her and looked ready to talk, so I sat down and waited. Mom brought in the warm cookies and said she'd given Rob a quick call to let him know everything was fine. Melanie thanked her and began.
"Luke called and said he wanted to elope. He couldn't wait one more second for the wedding. He asked me to get packed, and we'd go someplace really romantic and get married. I'd had a fight with my mom before she and my dad went out of town, and I was being selfish and melodramatic and decided to just go for it. I mean, we were getting married soon anyway, right? So I grabbed a suitcase and some stuff and left." She sniffed again and wiped her nose. "Rob tried to stop me, but he was being all self-righteous and doing the big-brother thing, and I couldn't handle that. He does it more annoyingly than most."
"You know, now that I don't have my Rob-colored glasses on anymore, I can see that."
She smirked at me. "Well, we left town and were on the freeway, and Luke was acting really weird. He started rambling on about this friend of his who'd gotten married and was miserable, and then this other friend who was living with his girlfriend and they were perfectly happy. He asked me if I'd rather be happy or miserable, and then told me he wanted us to wait a while to get married, to live together first and see if we could make a go of it. He said he knew he loved me, but sometimes people can't live under the same roof and still get along. Then he said he knew this great little bed and breakfast, and we could go there and talk it over."
I held my breath, hoping she wasn't about to say what I feared she was going to say.
"I thought we could have dinner and make some plans. When we got there, he wanted to go right up to the room. I told him I'd like to eat first, and he got a little testy and told me he had some granola bars in his bag. I told him I needed more time, that we needed to talk things over and make some decisions, and he threw a fit right there in the middle of the lobby. He called me a prude, said I'd been leading him on and that I'd been unfair to him, and that I could just find my own way home. Then he stormed out and drove away."
"Oh, no." I reached out to touch her hand. I felt so sorry for her, yet so relieved Luke had left when he did.
"I called a cab, and, well, now I'm here." She shook her head. "You were right, Addie. You were right about everything. I shouldn't have gone along with it. Now they're going to use me as a cautionary tale at church. 'Girls, here's what happened to one naive young girl when she didn't make the right choice. Now she's miserable and lives alone with seventeen cats.' I'm branded for life."
"I don't think anyone needs to know about this," Mom said. "You've only been gone a few hours. Who saw you leave, besides Rob?"
"No one, I guess," Melanie said.
"Well, let's keep this little adventure under our hats, then, except for telling your parents. I don't see why it needs to go public. If anyone asks, you spent the night here, and that will be the truth-get comfy. You're not leaving until sunrise. Wait, it's almost sunrise now-you're not leaving until after lunch. I already told Rob that you needed some time, and not to come charging over here."
Melanie smiled. "Thanks, Lillian. You're awesome, you know that?"
Mom shrugged. "I try."
Melanie attempted to stifle a yawn, and Mom stood up. "Let's all get to bed. You girls have got work tomorrow, if you know what's good for you and want to keep this hush-hush."
"True." Melanie got her suitcase from where she'd left it in the hallway and followed me to my room. She didn't say much as we got ready for bed and I unrolled my sleeping bag on the floor for her, but as we lay there in the pre-dawn purple, she said, "Addie, what would you have done? If Rob had asked you to run away with him, back when you were still in love with him, would you have gone?"
I knew she wanted my honest answer, so I thought for a minute before I replied. "No, I wouldn't go, and I know Rob would never ask. He's not that kind of guy."
She was quiet for a minute, then said softly, "That's the key right there, isn't it? To fall in love with someone who would never ask?"
"Yeah, I think it is."
She fell quiet, and a moment later I heard her breathing turn deep and rhythmic. I turned my face to my pillow and cried, so grateful to have her home safe.
@ ??1
I rapped softly on the office door, then stuck my head inside. Blake had another stack of papers in front of him, or maybe it was the same stack and he'd never finished them-I couldn't tell. What I did see were the dark circles under his eyes.
"Hey." I plopped down in the chair across from him. I didn't know where to begin. What he'd done was so selfless, I couldn't think of the words to explain how grateful I was.
"Hey." He put the cap on his pen and set it down. "How's Melanie?"
"Tired. And embarrassed. She just wants to make the whole thing disappear."
"I'm glad she'll have that option."
"Yeah, me too." I played with the hem of my shirt for a minute. "Listen, I just wanted you to know . . . I really appreciate what you did, trying to find her that way."
"It really wasn't that big of a deal. Chase needed a navigator, I was free-"
"I'm sure sleep was boring and you really wanted something better to do."
"That sounds about right." He picked up his pen again, but I didn't feel right letting him shrug this off so casually.
"It might not have been a big deal to you, but it was to me, and I just needed to tell you thanks."
"We didn't find her-she came back on her own. We really didn't do anything."
I fake-growled in frustration. "Will you just shut up and let me say thank you?"
"Um, okay, if you're going to get all pit-bull about it."
"I am. So, thank you. And stop arguing with me and just accept it. Okay? Can you do that?"
Blake's slow grin worked its way across his face. "Okay. And you're welcome."
@ ??1
When my best friend walked into the library that afternoon, it was all I could do not to race over and hug her, even though I'd seen her just hours before. The library patrons would be sure to wonder why I was so glad to see her-they had no idea she'd been gone. I tried to act casual. "So, how's it going?"
"I took a long nap and a hot shower, ate a whole lot of cookies and ice cream, and now I'm at work." Melanie took a deep breath. "I think I'm about as good as I'm going to get for now."
"And how shall we proceed? Treat you like you're made of glass and tiptoe around you, or laugh and make all kinds of anti-Luke jokes, or shoot for a happy medium and not talk about it unless it comes up naturally?"
"I like that last option. This isn't something I want everyone to know, but there's no need to make it totally taboo. I'm okay, really. Just don't bring it up in front of random people."
"Deal."
She got to work on the computer, and I stacked books on the cart. Blake came out of the office a moment later.
"You're about four hours late," he said to Melanie. "I can't doctor your timecard."
"I know." She met his gaze squarely. "And I don't expect you to. I take full responsibility."
He nodded, then smiled. "I'm glad you're back."
"Me too."
Blake leaned against the counter and folded his arms, looking nonchalant, but there was something in his tone that said, I have bad news. "I've got some bad news."
I sighed and sat down on a nearby stool. "What's going on?"
"It's two things, actually. First, I just got a call from the library board. We have to be out of this building in two weeks."
"What? We can't do that," I protested. "We were given six months, and it's only been, what, two?"
"How do they expect us to pull that off?" Melanie asked.
"They didn't say how to do it, just that we had to do it," Blake said.
"Two weeks." I looked around. "Well, maybe if we just boxed up books instead of cataloging them, we could organize them on the other end instead of doing it here."
"See, there you go. That's why you're in charge of this project."
I didn't think my suggestion had been all that great, but if he wanted to think so, that was fine with me. "Can we get another storage unit to hold the boxes we haven't gone through yet, just so they have a place to be?"
"Sure, we can do that, then sort through them in chunks."
That worked. It was like eating an elephant-one bite at a time.
"You said there were two things," Melanie reminded him. "What's the other thing?"
Blake scratched his chin. I hadn't noticed until then, but he hadn't shaved that morning, and he had a little stubble. I never thought I would live to see the day that Mr. Fancy Socks came to work without shaving. I guess he was entitled, though, considering the night we'd all had. And it looked kind of hot, in a strange "I shouldn't be thinking about my boss like this" sort of way.
"They would like us to plan an open house for the temporary building," he went on. "Catered refreshments, the works."
"What?" That seemed to be my favorite word all of a sudden. "Like, a really nice event? Bow ties and all that?"
"Why do they want an expensive shindig? Aren't we supposed to be in fund-raising mode right now or something?" Melanie asked.
"Sometimes you've got to spend money to make it, and the board feels that a nice event will draw a good crowd into the building. Of course, they'll invite our donors and the businesses in town. It's supposed to be very upscale."
"And we're planning all this in the middle of shutting down and moving."
"You got it." Suddenly Blake looked tired, and I wondered if he'd gotten any sleep at all. "I need the two of you. I'm no good at any of this. I was a business major, not an event major. I didn't even go to a single frat party the whole time I was in college. Can you make this work? The library board said they'd help out in any way they can-they'll take care of the invitations and the music, but they're actually understaffed right now too. Turns out several of the board members quit over this decision-they all feel the same way Addie does, so there are only two board members left."
"Wow." I hadn't realized. I wondered why no one had bothered to tell us. I would have felt more supported, less like a heretic. I thought for a few minutes. "We can do it. We'll just call on our minions."
"We have minions?" Melanie asked.
"Well, if we don't, we'll go rent some. Listen, would the two of you hold down the fort? I need to make a to-do list, and if I have an hour or so of quiet, maybe I can plan out something that will work."
They were more than happy to give me the space I needed, and I went into the office, closed the door, and grabbed some paper and a pen. This was no time to get nervous. I told the buffalo running through my stomach to get a grip, and then I went into major thinking mode. We had to get a move on, and I needed to come up with the direction for us to move.
@ ??1
I shared my ideas for the gala with Blake and Melanie, and they must have been decent because I got the thumbs up. I was picturing one of those swanky parties you see in movies, with waiters carrying trays of totally unrecognizable food that no one really eats because they're trying to be polite, and a cellist in the corner, and a jar on the counter saying, "Put Donations Here"-okay, I didn't really tell them I wanted a jar, but it seemed like a good idea.
Blake's text chime sounded again, and he checked his phone. "Tara says she picked out my tuxedo. It's a cutaway." He paused. "What's a cutaway?"
"Oh, they're awesome," Melanie said. She came around the counter and typed on her keyboard, turning the monitor toward him a moment later. She'd found a picture of a man in a cutaway tuxedo, and he looked mighty fine.
"I can't wear that," Blake said, his face a perfect study of mortification. "Who does she think I am-Mr. Darcy?"
He walked away, punching buttons on his phone. I turned back to the computer and studied the suit. Suddenly it hit me with so much force I had to take a deep breath. Yes, I did think Blake was Mr. Darcy-and he was about to marry Miss Bingley.
@ ??1
I couldn't sleep that night. How had I fallen in love with Blake, of all the people in the entire world? Didn't I have more self-respect than that? I was not myself when I got to the library the next day. I had spent most of the night awake, trying to analyze these new feelings. In the first place, I wondered if I should have my head examined. Then I wondered if I was a total glutton for punishment as I made a mental inventory of all the mean things he had done to me. It was kind of like our library spreadsheet, with slots for how badly each thing had hurt, and whether it was on purpose or not. Then I started recalling all the perfectly wonderful things he'd done for me, and thinking about how really, he was very good-looking, once you got past the fancy socks and everything. But then I wondered again if I'd totally lost my mind.
Somewhere around four o'clock, I decided I was probably just having post-traumatic saving-my-best-friend-from-sure-heartbreak syndrome. It was natural that in my heightened emotional state, I would see Blake as a hero, and that would explain my internal swooning. The way my hand tingled when our fingers brushed accidentally while reaching for books-purely a physical response to heightened adrenaline. It could happen to anyone, and it would not happen to me again. I wasn't going to fall for him. Not going to happen.
Sure, it would be hard, but it all came down to one simple thing. He was engaged. He had chosen Tara out of all the girls in the entire world. Funny how I didn't think I wanted him, and now I really did, but he wasn't mine and never would be. I would say nothing. Not a thing. Nada. When I got to work, I would act like nothing had changed, because it hadn't. He was the same as always.
@ ??1
After I put the final touches on my plans for the gala, I revamped our library relocation plan and showed it to Blake and Melanie. It was hard seeing him for the first time after realizing I had feelings for him-it was like I'd put on a new pair of glasses and was seeing things in a slightly distorted way, or maybe I was seeing them clearly for the first time. Whichever it was, I squelched my feelings and shoved them into the darkest corner of my mind. I'd get over it.
Blake and Melanie read over my charts, and then we dove into action. He rented a storage unit, and we closed our doors to patrons and focused on boxing and labeling books. I didn't even want to think about how long it would take us to sort things out on the other end, but we really didn't have a choice. Little by little, the books were cleared out, and at the end of each workday, there was a noticeable reduction in the number of books left to pack. Blake and Chase did a lot of the heavy lifting, thankfully.
I noticed that Chase and Melanie were starting to joke back and forth. He hadn't brought up our date again, but I was actually okay with that. Once I saw how well he and Melanie were getting along, I decided to play it cool and see what happened between the two of them, if anything.
On day three, I realized we weren't going to make it on time at our present rate, so I made good on my threat to bring out the minions. Tara had a weekend free of commitments; Mom, Jenni, and Benji came down; and Melanie asked Rob to help.
At first, I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Things were even more uncomfortable when I realized that if Rob met Tara, he'd know Blake and I had lied to him about being a couple. It's not that I wanted to get away with lying-I'm generally a very truthful person and I don't enjoy feeling guilty-but I hadn't quite worked up to guilt over Rob yet. I was still in the "he deserved it" camp, even though the mature part of me said I'd forgiven him. Whatever.
At any rate, I was beyond relieved when it turned out Rob and Tara weren't there at the same time. Tara showed up on Thursday and Friday, and Rob helped on Saturday. Crisis averted.
I was glad for Tara's help, but to be honest, I was glad to see her go. There was a lot of tension between her and Blake, something thick and dark that hung in the air, and for the last several hours on Friday, they didn't even speak to each other. Shouldn't they be in that blissful pre-wedding marshmallowy stage? I was dying of curiosity to know what was going on, but I wasn't about to ask.
When Rob showed up on Saturday morning, I felt a little awkward, but Blake was really amazing about the whole thing. He wasn't deceitful, but he did pay me a little extra attention while Rob was around, and at one point, Blake even draped his arm around my shoulders. It was like he wanted to remind Rob what was what, but he didn't lie to get it done. See, I do appreciate honesty.
I had just placed the last L.M. Montgomery book in a box and taped it up when Rob crouched down beside me. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure." I stood up and stretched a little bit, my back more than ready for a break. We walked over to the couch and sat down.
"So, how are things?" Rob asked. He seemed a little out of sorts, and not his usual charming and relaxed self.
"Let's see-I have to clear out an entire library in a week and a half and then hold a gala to open up the new library once we get it put together. I think I'm pretty stressed."
He chuckled. "I guess that was a dumb question. What I meant was, are you happy?"
I thought about that for a second. Yes, I was stressed. Through-the-roof stressed. But I would have to say that yes, I was happy, and I told him so.
"So I guess Blake's being good to you."
Oh. He wanted to know if I was happy in my relationship. That's an entirely different question, and I wasn't sure how to answer it. I needed truth, and after a moment's reflection, I found it. "I used to think I needed other people to make me happy, but you know what? I figured out at some point over the last few months that if I'm going to be happy, I have to make it happen for myself. It doesn't depend on Blake or anyone else. It depends on me."
Rob nodded, then rose. "So everything's good then?"
"Yes, everything's fine."
He went back to dismantling shelves, and I sat there completely confused. Melanie came and found me a minute later.
"Rob talked to you?"
"He did, but I have no idea what about."
She plopped down on the couch next to me. "Seems he and Callie broke up, and he wanted to see if he still stood a chance with you."
My stomach did a weird little surprised lurch thing. "Well, that's not what he said."
"So?"
"So . . . does he have a chance with you?"
Six months before, I would have jumped up and down and screamed and then burst into sobby, happy tears. But that was before things changed-before I changed. I didn't even have to think about this one. "I'm not in love with Rob anymore. In fact, I don't think I ever really was. I liked who I thought he was, and that just isn't reality. So no, he doesn't have a chance with me." It felt good being the one to make that decision instead of letting him make it for me. Of course, maybe I'd be the one to end up romantically alone with seventeen cats as my only friends, but it would be on my terms, not his.
@ ??1
We ate on the run, slept whenever we stood still for more than two seconds, and only showered when the others started to complain about having to work with us, but by the Monday of the last week of January, we had the old building cleaned out. I was so tired it hurt to blink. Or move. Or exist. The library was completely silent. I couldn't even hear cars passing outside. It was as if the entire world was holding its breath out of respect while I said goodbye.
I walked slowly through the building, remembering where the shelves had been without needing to look at the floor to see the telltale bolt holes. I couldn't help the tears that ran down my cheeks. There was no place on earth that was more special to me than these four walls. The library had been redecorated since my childhood and the paint was different, but the atmosphere-the feeling of the place-was the same, and I was going to miss it like I would an amputated limb.
After wandering through young adult and adult fiction, I detoured through nonfiction and ended up over in the children's section. I remembered organizing a live chess game on the carpet squares, just like in Harry Potter. My dad and I were on opposite teams, and we laughed every time it was our turn to move. Afterwards, we went out for banana splits, our bags of books stacked neatly on the back seat so we wouldn't get any ice cream on them.
I sat on the checkered carpet and pulled my knees up to my chest. I don't know how long I sat there before Blake plopped down beside me. We sat in silence for a few minutes, then he said, "It's for the best, Addie."
"But this building is perfect. Nothing can ever take its place."
He looked at me, his eyes narrowed. "You keep saying that. Come here." He stood and held out his hand. I grasped it, and he helped me to my feet. "Let's take a little walk."
"Where are we going?"
"Nowhere. Just here."
He let go, and my fingers instantly felt lonely. I wasn't expecting the insane urge to reach out and grab his hand again, and I fought it down by saying, "You're taking me for a walk in the library?"
"Yep." He led me over to the staircase that stretched to the loft. "What do you see?"
"Hand-carved wood banisters, nice deep treads . . ."
"What about the worn-out carpet?"
I blinked and tried to focus more clearly. True, the carpet was wearing out, but that was easily fixed. Blake touched the spindles of the railing. "What about these?"
I saw nicks in the wood, places where the varnish had rubbed off, joints that weren't as smooth as they should have been. I turned away.
"Come over here," he said, motioning to the stained-glass window. For the first time, I saw cracks in the panes and discoloration throughout. The windowsill was warped from the leak that had never really been repaired. Suddenly something that was beautiful to me was reduced to nothing-nothing but a heap of boards and mismatched glass.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I sank to my knees, feeling pain through my gut as though I had been stabbed with one of those shards of glass. "Why can't you just let me love my library? What's so wrong about that?"
Blake knelt next to me. "I love that you wanted to defend this building, Addie. It needed a knight in shining armor . . . or a princess in a beat-up red car. But this building's beauty isn't found in its wood or its windows. Those things are breaking down. Tell me, why do you think this building is beautiful, really?"
I couldn't speak for a long moment, but he waited for me. "Over there," I said finally, pointing to the corner where the rocking chair had stood. "That's where my dad would read to me. I'd bring him book after book, and we'd sit here for hours. Even after he remarried and Benji and Jenni came along, this was our special place. I feel him here. Everywhere. In every room, around every corner." I sniffed. "We've already lost so much, Blake. How can I lose this, too?"
He slid his arms around my shoulders and held me while I cried into his shirt. "I could so get fired for this," he said after a moment. "Promise not to sue me for harassment, okay?"
Blake's comment brought me back to reality-he wasn't mine! I got myself under control as quickly as I could.
"I'm sorry." I reached into my pocket for a tissue. "I really shouldn't have-"
"Shouldn't have what?"
"Cried all over you."
He laughed, shifting from his knees to a sitting position on the floor. "No worries."
I wiped my eyes, and as soon as he glanced away, I wiped my nose, too. That's not something you just do in front of people. "I guess . . . I guess I'm just a big baby."
"I don't think that at all." Blake leaned back on his hands, regarding me. "Our emotions cloud our perceptions. It's no wonder this library is the most wonderful place on earth to you, but other people don't see it that way. They don't have your memories, Addie. Maybe they weren't blessed to have a father who spent time with them, here or in other places. And maybe-"
"And maybe I'm taking this whole thing way too personally, when it was never meant to be personal at all." I exhaled and rested my head on the wall behind me. "I've taken this from a crusade to save a library to a desperate attempt to save my memories of my father, and I've hurt people along the way, haven't I?"
Blake was quiet for a minute. "You're not hurting people, Addie. You're hurting yourself by choosing to believe that people don't care about your feelings. They do care. They care very much. But your healing needs to come from inside yourself, not from a building or books or carpets or-"
"Or warped windowsills," I interjected.
"Or warped windowsills." He smiled, and I did too. "Come on." He took my hand to help me up again. This time he didn't let go right away, but gripped my fingers as he looked into my eyes. "We need to leave-we said we'd be out of here two hours ago. Are you all right to drive home?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." I wondered if that was true.
"Okay. If you're sure." He let go. "See you tomorrow."
I took my time getting home, following the winding roads and not watching the clock. My brain felt like a jigsaw puzzle, with all the pieces dumped out and scattered on the floor. I nearly turned the car into our old neighborhood, but remembered just in time and kept going until I reached our new house.
My mom was in the kitchen when I came in. "Hi," she said, wiping her hands on a towel. "Are you all right? You look like you've been crying."
I sat on the stool at the counter. "I was crying, but I'm okay now. I was talking to Blake."
"And he made you cry again? What is it with that guy?"
I smiled. "No, this time he was actually helpful. He got me thinking about some things, and I realized I was using the library to help me remember Dad, instead of just, well, remembering him."
Mom nodded. "I understand. I think we've all been coping in our own way, just doing the best we can to get by."
"Would it . . ." I hesitated, knowing my idea was silly, but also knowing I had to ask. "Would it be too weird if we had a memorial service for Dad here, in the new house? Talked about him and maybe ate some of his favorite foods?"
"I think that's a wonderful idea, Addie." Her breath caught in her throat. "A wonderful, beautiful idea. Let's do it tomorrow night, okay? And thank you." She reached out and touched my hand. "You are such a blessing to me."
I couldn't sleep that night. Ideas for our little memorial service kept coming to me-things we could do that would make the occasion really special for Benji and Jenni, and for me and Mom, too. When I stopped planning to think about how I felt, I realized I was excited, but I felt peaceful, too, for the first time in a long time. Letting go can do that.
Thanks for reading this chapter!
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Inkberry Press, LLC
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Text Copyright © 2012 by Tristi Pinkston
Cover Design © 2012 by Inkberry Press
Interior Design © 2012 by Inkberry Press
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ISBN: 978-0-9838293-6-2