Like a Charm (13 page)

T
he next morning I woke with a case of severe determination. I'm not the kind of woman who is wishy-washy about any part of my life. Most people at work, and even my friends, describe me as the calm, intelligent, confident one. I'd been none of those things for weeks.

Part of it was the illness, and I'm certain much of it had to do with the rather emotional events I'd experienced. If I was going to move forward with my life and decide what was going to come next, I had to let go of all of that.

I'm also known for having great instincts, and it was time for me to apply that talent to my life.

The first order of business was to get to the library. Loopholes existed in every contract. Though I'd been through the will a half dozen times, I knew there would be some kind of answers either at Mrs. Canard's loft or in the library. I just had to find them.

I threw on a pair of True Religion jeans and my favorite black cashmere sweater to wear with my boots. I also grabbed a pair of slacks and a jacket for later. I didn't know how casual my date with Caleb would be. I assumed we'd probably go to Lulu's, in which case the jeans would work fine. If he had something fancier in mind, I could make a quick change into the suit.

My parents were near the entry and I felt like I had to give them some kind of explanation as to where I was going. I told them about the will and that I wasn't sure what to do. They took it in their usual laid-back fashion.

“I can't believe she thought I'd drop everything to become a librarian,” I said at the end of my long diatribe.

My parents looked at one another and then at me. “She obviously saw something special in you, Kira,” Mom said. “Something that made her think you would be an excellent person for the job.”

“Your mother is right. We are behind you and believe in you. You'll make the right decision.” My dad patted my head. “You always do.”

Mom handed me a parka. “The weather's too cold for that wool coat of yours. Wear this.” It was puffy and white, but I put it on anyway. I was grateful for it once I stepped outside.

“Be careful, and don't stress yourself too much,” Mom added. “When the time is right, you'll know what to do.” Holding on to both of my arms, she leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek. “There are times when we must think with more than our heads. Be open and perhaps the answers will come to you.” She shut the door.

I loved that they had this unfailing belief in me. I wished I felt the same way.

After a quick stop for coffee and an egg sandwich from Lulu's, I made my way to the library. The wind, which was coming out of the north with a mighty blast, made it difficult for me to shut the door. I locked it and flipped on the lights.

“She's back.” I saw something out of the corner of my eye by the computer. It was more of a shadow than anything.

“Yes, I'm back and I need to do some work. So leave me alone,” I said to no one in particular. All I heard in reply was the hum of the fluorescents and the sound of the heat as it kicked on.

After reading Mrs. Canard's letter, I knew the voices were probably real, but that didn't necessarily mean I was ready to accept that fact.

Depositing my bag under the large front desk, I looked for the switches for the computer and monitor. The machine came to life and I clicked her desktop icon to view her files.

Before I could open a document titled “The Librarian's Duties,” there was a knock on the door. I tried to ignore it.

Then I heard a young girl's voice, actually several young girls' voices. “Hello? Please, is anyone in there?”

I grabbed the key and unlocked the door. Four young girls, who looked like high school freshmen, stood on the steps.

“Oh, yay,” the small brunette in front said. She was wearing a thick jacket and pink stocking cap, her hands wrapped in matching gloves. The girls behind her hopped from foot to foot, trying to stay warm.

“Can I help you?”

They all nodded.

“Are you the new librarian?” the one in front asked.

“Not exactly.”

Their faces fell.

“Crap,” the girl's hand flew to her mouth. “Sorry. It's just—we have a report due on Monday, and with what happened with Mrs. Canard and the library being closed, we couldn't get the books for our research.”

“Oh. Don't they have the books at your school library?” I knew I should be more helpful, but I was busy with my own research.

The girls snorted. Then I remembered our high school library. It was the size of three telephone booths stuck together. I knew they had expanded it a few years ago, but it wouldn't have as much research material as what was inside this building.

I pursed my lips. “Why don't you come on in, and we'll see what we can do.”

The girl reached out and touched my arm with her gloved hand. “Thank you,” she said dramatically. “You've totally saved us.”

After ushering them in, it seemed weird to lock the big wooden door with the kids there, so I left it unlocked.

“What's your paper about?”

“We're studying
King Lear
. I mean, like how crazy was that guy?” A petite redhead took off her hat, and her bouncy curls fell around her shoulders. “Anyway, Mrs. Canard promised to get us some”—she turned to the tallest of the four girls—“what kind of books were they, Tanny?”

“Literary criticism,” the girl answered softly.

“Right,” the redhead continued. “So we have to do our own criticism and then compare it to some of the books written by others.”

Now this kind of research I could handle. “Did you try the Internet?” I moved to stand behind the computer.

“Yeah, but we're only allowed to use it for one source, and we have to have five,” groaned the girl who had spoken for the group outside.

I wondered if they had Mrs. Chapin for English. She was a tough one, but also a great teacher. Her lessons made you think and you had to study to get a passing grade in her class. Getting an A had taken up any extra time I might have had back then.

I clicked on the electronic catalog to bring up the books. “Looks like you guys are in luck.” I pointed them in the right direction. When I looked back down, I saw a notice flashing. It was sticky note on the electronic calendar. “
King Lear
, Box A-12.”

I drummed my fingers beside the keyboard. Everything in the library was organized by rows labeled according to the Dewey decimal system and none of them were marked A-12. I wondered if maybe the note meant some of the boxes in the back room.

“I'm going to check something, I'll be right back,” I told the girls. Unlocking the storage room door, I clicked on the lights. Each set of boxes had a letter and a number, and then double letters like AA, BB, CC. Hmmmm.

I went to the boxes under A and looked for one marked with the number twelve. It didn't take long. It was the second box in the stack. I moved off the top one, which was heavy with books, and opened the second one. There on the top was a sticky note that read, “For Tanny and her classmates.” Three books had been tied up in a string. As I picked them up to take them up front, I saw another sticky note: “Maggie Charns's cookbook request.” Under that was another stack tied in string for someone named “Bronwyn.” Those were for Caleb's friend, and the bundle held books about magic.

I closed up the box and put the other one back on top of it. Mrs. Canard must have had the books on order and been waiting for library patrons to come in.

“Hello?” I heard one of the girls nearing the break room.

“I'll be right there.” I flipped off the lights, vowing to check the rest of the boxes later on.

 

I
helped the girls for more than two hours, researching King Lear and his daughters. I love research. It's one of the things I adore most about law. You dig and find case studies to support your cause, and really it's the same thing with freshman pre-AP English. By the time the girls left at two, they had a solid thesis and more than enough material to begin backing it up.

My stomach grumbled, and I needed a quick snack. I put on the big fluffy coat and grabbed the stocking cap my mom had stuffed in the pocket. The lunch crowd was gone at Lulu's, and Ms. Johnnie had retired to the back room to take her afternoon nap.

Ms. Helen greeted me with a hug. “I saw you this mornin', but things were a-crackin' and I didn't have a chance to say hello.”

I squeezed her back. “It's good to see you. I'm starving. Do you have any leftovers from lunch? Something light, I have a d—” I paused. I hadn't meant to blab about the date.

“Oh, I know all about your date. That young man was in here trying to find out something about you. Nosy fella, but a handsome devil. Asked about some of your favorite foods and wanted to see what we had planned tonight. I told him a couple of things, but said he needed to ask you the rest.”

I smiled, pleased that Caleb wanted to make things special for tonight. I'm sure a nice shade of pink spread across my cheeks, because I could feel the heat.

“Do you want to eat here?”

I thought about the work at the library. “I'd better get it to go. Maybe just a sandwich and a cup of coffee.”

“Comin' up.” I watched as she put roast beef, provolone, tomatoes, and pickles between two slices of rye. My mouth watered just looking at it. I loved that she remembered I only liked lettuce in my salad, never on my sandwich.

She packed everything up and poured coffee into a large paper cup and put a lid on it. “Okay, you're all set.” I handed her the money and then leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You're the best.”

“Aw, now. You go on and git.” But she laughed when she said it.

On the way back across the street I had a moment of inspiration. If I could find out more about the woman who owned the library before Mrs. Canard, I might have a clue as to how I ended up the sole owner of one of Sweet's most prized possessions.

I gulped down my sandwich and headed to the microfiche vault. I searched for copies of the town newspaper from more than thirty years ago. That's when Mrs. Canard had moved to Sweet.

It took almost four hours, but I found something I thought might be helpful. It was an article about Mrs. Canard taking over the library from Mary Elizabeth Barnes, who had died three days before.

The article went on to talk about how Mrs. Canard planned to institute after-school and adult literacy reading programs, and how she would add several book clubs and allow organizations to use the reading room for meetings after hours.

Hmmm. Interesting, but not exactly what I wanted.

Dogs barked—a little yippy one, and then another with a deep scary tone, and it was if they were two feet away. But there were no dogs anywhere near me.

Someone knocked on the door, and I glanced down at my watch. It was six fifty-two.
Crap.
I'd lost track of time.

I ran for the door and pulled it open. Caleb stood there in a leather jacket and a cable-knit sweater with jeans, looking fresh and as gorgeous as ever.

“Hi.” He smiled.

“Hey, come on in.” I opened the door and stared past him. “Did you happen to see some dogs?”

Caleb gave me a strange look. “No.”

“Huh. I'm running a little behind. Can you give me five minutes to freshen up?”

He followed me up the stairs to the loft. “Sure, I'm early anyway.”

Washing my hands in the bathroom, I reapplied lipstick and freshened my powder and eye shadow. Adding a little more mascara for glamour, I worried what to do with the hair I'd piled on my head hours ago. I pulled out the silver clamp and for once it behaved, falling in loose waves around my shoulders.

Not bad.
I ran my fingers through it for a quick fluff, washed my hands, and decided that since he was casual, my cashmere sweater and jeans would be fine. A quick dab of Angel on my wrists and I was set.

He glanced at his watch. “That was fast. You look beautiful, by the way.”

I looked down at the floor, embarrassed and incredibly pleased at the same time.

“So where are we off to?”

“That's a surprise.”

I bit my lip. “Well, because I'm worried she'll say something, I have to admit Ms. Helen told me you'd been asking about me.”

He laughed. “That woman can't keep a secret to save her life. Did she tell you everything?”