Caching In (20 page)

The guidelines on placing one read like a novel. Who put such rules in place for basically a game of hide and seek? Many restrictions existed on where I
couldn’t
hide one, yet, space was listed as a potential place to put one. Sure, I’ll just hop on the nearest spaceship and head up there. I definitely had my work cut out for me. In order to place a cache, I required permission from someone where ever I placed it, if not public property. Once done, I needed to submit a request online and wait for approval for the cache to be added to the database, which may take up to a week. Could I wait a week? In a week’s time, would Seth lose all interest in me, although it seemed he already had, and would I lose him for good?

Reviewing the rules, I couldn’t place my cache within a certain distance of another. I clicked on the map of caches to see where people hid them in town. Luckily, the library space didn’t list any, and the nearest one reached almost two miles away. After discussing the situation with Alyssa, we came up with the perfect idea, so I headed out to the library to speak with the Director.

The library was new territory for me. In the years I’d lived here, I’d never been there once, and the library actually moved into an entirely new building. No longer housed above City Hall, it owned its new space, two stories of brick and mortar with tall windows overlooking a small pond. The back of the building boasted balconies with tables where patrons relaxed with a book in the sun.

Opening the door to this unknown place brought a little discomfort. It wasn’t like I’d never stepped foot in a library before, but I didn’t come to browse the books. I didn’t even own a library card! I went to ask a favor, permission, and basically pronounce my undeniable love for Seth to a complete and total stranger.

I passed through security partitions - did people steal books? - to a front desk on the right. An older woman with graying hair sat behind the desk, sorting through books on a rolling cart. I glanced at the cart, grabbing the titles but none sticking out in my mind. I recognized a few author names, but nothing I had ever, or probably would ever, read. “Can I help you?” The woman placed a book down on the cart.

“Yes. My name is Ally Couper. May I speak with the Library Director?”

She put her finger up to advise me to wait while she picked up a phone next to her computer and pressed a button. As I waited, I stepped toward the book cases close to the window to browse. The books were for sale for a mere twenty-five cents each, with their worn covers and faded pages. I never got into reading. I always wanted to, but physical activity called out to me. I much preferred doing something adventurous and enjoying nature. I simply couldn’t imagine enjoying books so much as to devote your career to it.

Heels clicked behind me. “Excuse me, Miss? I’m Karen Thornpike. You wanted to see me?”

I turned around to a tall, middle-aged woman with almost completely white hair. Wire rimmed classes framed her face, her lips lightly dusted with a pale pink shade. “Yes, hi. I’m Ally Couper and I hoped to get your permission to hide a cache in the reference area of the library.”

She crossed her arms. “You’re not the first person to ask about that, and I’ve already turned down every single person who has. The library is full of treasures - books - and I don’t need people traipsing through here looking for a canister or whatever it is you plan to hide.”

Damn. I assumed this would be easy. I’d walk in, ask permission, she’d gladly grant it, and I’d be on my way. I cleared my throat. “Actually, I plan on hiding a book. Well, not an actual book, but a hard container I would design to look like a book and a few items would be inside.” She kept her arms crossed, unimpressed. I didn’t want to sound like a bumbling idiot struck by cupid, but she left me no choice. “I’m trying to win back my boyfriend.”

A smile spreading across Ms. Thornpike’s face, confusing me with her thoughts. Quite possibly my plea convinced her and she was a sucker for love. I imagined us jumping up and down like teenagers as she helped me plot out my romantic rescue. Okay, far-fetched, but fun. She touched her fingers to her glasses and straightened them. “The library is not in the business of playing matchmaker or any form of the Newlywed Game.”

What? The Newlywed Game? We weren’t married, and wasn’t that a game from my mom’s teenage years? Talk about a backfire. All my winning certainly turned into losing quite fast. I couldn’t catch a break! “I’m sorry. My boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, is really into geocaching and I thought this would be a clever way to win him over.”

“This isn’t high school, Miss Couper. I’m trying to run a library here and instead of playing hide and seek, or whatever it is, why not pick out a book to read?”

“I don’t have a library card.” Wrong answer. What. An. Idiot. Now, instead of looking like a complete and total nut job for asking to place a cache at the library, I looked like a complete and total
illiterate
nut job.

Her eyes might as well popped out of her head. “You don’t have a library card? Your library is one of your best resources around. I’m quite disappointed you walked in here, asking me to allow you to do this caching thing, and you aren’t even a supporter of the library?”

How did having a card that allowed me to get books for free support anything? “I’m sorry. I’m not much of a reader.”

“Then you haven’t found the right book.”

“That’s what Seth told me.”

“Seth?”

“Oh, sorry. Seth. That’s my ex’s name.”

“Are you talking about Seth Hayes?”

I didn’t expect her to know who I was talking about. “Yes.”

“Seth’s family has been a wonderful supporter to the library, especially his mother.” She began to walk toward the lady at the desk who helped me when I came in. “Follow me.”

Ms. Thornpike’s change of attitude shocked me, yet I still found myself a little scared around her, so I followed with no argument.

“Nancy, Miss Couper is going to be coming back tomorrow to place a cache in the Reference section of the library. Please assist her upon her return. Also, she will be needing a library card, and if you could help this young lady pick out a few books, I would greatly appreciate it.”

I stood there, unable to respond. She said yes? She was allowing me to hide the cache? Of course, she required me to get a library card, but whatever. I couldn’t believe it. “Thank you, Ms. Thornpike.”

“Please, call me Karen. If this is something Seth loves, and if it will make him happy, after what he’s been through, I’m more than happy to help. I ask you be respectful to the library, keep it clean, in the reference section, and by God, start reading.”

No problem. A small price to pay to have Seth back in my arms again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Now that I obtained the blessing of the library director to hide the cache, I headed right to work. The website stated I needed to hide the cache before submitting it. This didn’t make a lot of sense to me, because what if they rejected my idea, but I didn't make the rules, so I really couldn’t question it. Alyssa and I came up with an idea for the cache, but, despite her kind demeanor, I couldn’t accept her offer to help me. The thought of working with her so closely seemed too awkward. How hard would it be for his ex-wife to be a partner in this? A little too weird for me. I needed to commission Chelsea’s help.
That
could be a problem.

The second I arrived home from the library, I called Chelsea. Since I sat on the unemployed side of things, the fact she worked slipped my mind. I dialed her cell and realized my mistake, but, still, she took my call.

“Can I help you?” Her greeting when she answered the phone never came off as cold and unforgiving. Her “hello” often registered at the top of the happy scale, but not today.

Even before Daryl fired me, I understood how wrong I was to accuse him of sexually harassing Chelsea. When the words left my mouth, immediate regret followed, but I couldn’t take them back. So he didn’t force her into anything, but she still did
things
with him. Even if she kept things clean, she flirted with him, and teased him with the short skirt. She had an agenda, but, regardless of her intention to work her way to the top with sexual favors, I was a super shitty friend to doubt her skills at the job. I may have thought I was a better fit, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t at all qualified. “I’m sorry for the way I acted, Chelsea.”

“Me, too. You said some pretty crappy things. Not to mention how badly you hurt me.”

Her voice shook, and I was confident she’d be crying soon. It sucked I wasn’t there to hug her. “I know. I’m an asshole. There. I said it. I. Am. An. Asshole. I’m sorry I ever questioned your ability to get the promotion.”

“And I’m sorry I said a few things I shouldn’t have in order to get the job.”

I stopped the words before they left my mouth. Chelsea just proved my suspicions true, but if I valued our friendship and wanted to move on, I couldn’t fret on it. Her words weren’t what got me fired. I did that on my own. Score! “Don’t apologize. I think I overstepped a tad more than you. Friends again?”

“Gosh, you sound like we’re in high school.”

I guess I kind of did. At least in high school, we didn’t have such grown up problems. I would much rather be arguing over something petty like makeup or what movie to see. But, maybe, I
was
being petty. “I take that as a yes. Look, I need a favor.”

“I get it. You need me to do something for you, so you apologize hoping I’ll help you? Is that how this works, Ally?”

Crap. I didn’t think of how my asking could make me come off as an ass. Leave it to me to fix our friendship and then screw it back up again seconds later. “No. I mean, it probably sounds that way, but -”

Chelsea laughed on the other end of the line. “I’m joking. Go ahead. What do you need?”

Pleased she was teasing, I explained the situation, and she agreed to come over right after work. We had a lot to do.

----------

Chelsea arrived in the early evening with a rolling cart of materials. Making jewelry and knitting was my thing, but scrapbooking and design was hers. Sure, she knit a mean scarf, but when push came to shove she had nothing on me.

“How are you feeling?” I asked Chelsea right away as I grabbed the rolling cart from her and set it by the kitchen table.

“Much better. I’m in the second trimester now.”

“And what does that mean?”

“More energy. My books state that the next few months I’ll have the most energy of my pregnancy, thank God.”

With her tired eyes and slow transition from standing to sitting, she could have fooled me. She took a seat at the table and I got her a bottled water, grabbing one for myself. “Thank you for helping me with this.” I meant what I said, too.

“I love this idea. You’re such a romantic.”

Luring Seth in with one of his greatest passions? I thought it was romantic, too. “I just hope this works.”

“I’ll be shocked if it doesn’t. At least things will work out for one of us.”

I handed her the book I planned on using as a prototype for the one we would be building. She gathered materials from her cart as I spoke. “They’re working out for you how they’re supposed to.”

She continued searching through her materials. “This baby growing up without a father? Yeah, how wonderful.”

I took a sip of my water. “I didn’t mean it like that.” My mouth didn’t work properly lately. Every phrase that came out of my mouth meant to be helpful ended up sounding the exact opposite.

Chelsea stopped her search and looked at me, the pain evident in her eyes. “I know. This … just
sucks
. Never in my life did I think I’d be twenty-five, pregnant, and on my own.”

“You’re not on your own, Chelsea. I’m here. You’ll always have me.” Her face filled with doubt. Damn it, I’d been a shitty friend in every moment of her pregnancy thus far. I hated Daniel.
Hated. Daniel.
And I completely disagreed with Chelsea’s decision to pursue a relationship with him, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t support her in what would probably be the most difficult time in her life. “Chels, I love you, and despite what happened in the past, and how this situation came about, I will
always
be here for you.”

Either her hormones took over, or maybe she reached a point of forgiveness with me, but Chelsea’s lip quivered, and she blinked as she tried to get rid of the tears, but it was no use. She began bawling, the tears streaming down her face with little whimpers to match.

“I’m sorry, Chelsea. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

She waved her hand in front of her face. “It’s okay, really. I don’t think I’ll be over Daniel for quite awhile, even if I realize what a piss ant he is.”

I snorted. “A piss ant?”

“I don’t know. Scum bag seemed too easy.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sue him for child support?” Even though Daniel denied paternity, she could make him take a test and get money to help support the baby.

Chelsea sniffled and grabbed some construction paper out of a folder. Holding a scissors in her hand, she said, “My parents and I talked about it. Even if I got a court order for child support, I don’t think he’d pay a dime. Then the whole thing could spiral into garnishing wages and he may want to claim paternity at some point. I don’t want this baby with a father in and out of his or her life. I can’t do that; it’s not fair. My parents are letting me stay with them for a while so I can save money and this promotion will help a lot with that, too.”