Louisiana Saves the Library (27 page)

“You're supposed to match the car with the close-up. Is that the Batmobile's fender?” Brendan said.

“Yeah, I think so.” Max's fat pencil was poised over the book. His voice sounded slightly nasal, no doubt as a result of the peanut.

“Okay, so draw a line between them. What about that one?”

“I don't know.”

“I think that's the Penguin's car. Look, it has a picture of a penguin on it.”

“Yeah! That's right!” Max drew a line. “What about that one?”

Louise emphatically did not love Brendan anymore. She didn't really even like him. Still, for Max's sake, she was happy to see them doing something together. Even if it was in an emergency room with a peanut up Max's nose.

Louise walked around the chairs and into their line of sight with Sal following.

“Hey, Mommy,” Max said.

“Mommy!” Zoe jumped off her chair and hugged Louise's legs. She bent down and wrapped her arms around her.

“Hey, Max. Do this.” Sal took a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose hard.

“Okay.” Max copied him, his face scrunched up in an exaggerated grimace. The peanut flew out of his nose and hit the floor by Louise's feet. “Hey, it came out!”

“Yup. Guess you guys can go home now.”

“Cool.” Max jumped up. “Let's go play some computer games, Dad.”

“Thanks, Sal. I'm sorry you guys had to drive all the way out here,” Brendan said, managing to look genuinely humble.

“It was worth it,” Sal said. “Saved the little guy from the forceps.”

 

On the way back to Alligator Bayou, Sal turned on the local radio station. Hollis Murphy was talking about the election. Sal could barely stand the guy's voice sometimes. He managed to sound superior to everything and everyone. But aside from the
Alligator Bayou Gazette,
he was the only source of news about the parish.

“It would seem that I called the results on the library tax too soon,” Hollis said. “I'm not going to say the tax passed. I am going to say that we need to wait and see what the final results are. Let's take some calls.”

“God.” Sal gripped the steering wheel and fought the urge to pound on it. “This is driving me crazy.”

“I guess as a book burner, you have a stake in it, pun intended,” Louise said.

Sal glanced at her. He could tell that his deception had upset her. But she seemed to realize that his intentions were good. “I'm really sorry I did that without telling you. But, yeah, I really want this thing to pass. For you and me, but also for this parish. We're never going to get out of the dark ages if we don't have a decent library.”

On the radio, Paul from Second Avenue expressed the view that the tax would hurt poor people.

“Not sure about that,” Murphy said. “After all, it's a property tax. I guess it could indirectly affect renters if landlords raise the rents because of it. Let's go to another caller.”

Sal turned off the radio. “We'll check back later. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I can't take much Hollis Murphy. Though it sounds like he might support the library.”

“Hard to tell,” Sal said, parking the truck in front of the mobile home.

Inside, Betta was watching the TV news. She turned it off. “Is Max okay?”

“Honked it right out,” Sal said, taking off his work boots.

“Good.” Betta poured wine and set the table with meatloaf, green beans, and mashed potatoes.

Sal fed the dogs and took his usual seat next to Louise. Betta seemed to be adjusting to their relationship. They were taking it slow—not for his sister's sake but for the children's. Still, the pace seemed to help Betta as well. Sal didn't spend all his time at Louise's house. Mostly, they kept their visits to the Saturdays when her ex watched the kids. Betta was able to keep her routine of cooking dinner for Sal. He didn't mind. It made her happy. But he looked forward to the day when he went home every day to Louise and her kids. Not rushing was hard, excruciating really. But he had to be grateful for the time they had together.

During dinner, they all tried not to discuss the election. It weighed on Sal's mind, though, mostly because he didn't know what Louise would do if it didn't pass. Now that Mr. Foley and Mr. Henry were gone, would she lose her job if the tax failed? He didn't know, and she didn't seem to either. She'd applied for the director job, of course. But if there wasn't any money, the position would be worthless—if it even continued to exist.

Despite his worries, he managed to finish two helpings of meatloaf and a slice of cake. After the meal, Betta stood up. “I best be going as soon as I finish these dishes.”

“Don't you worry about those, Betta. We'll handle it,” Sal said.

Betta's whole body drooped, just like when she was a little kid and he told her he didn't want to play with her dolls. “Okay, sure.”

“Hey, come on. I'm not trying to get rid of you. I just thought we ought to do the dishes since you cooked.” Sal couldn't believe that his sister was being so sensitive. Maybe he was wrong about her coming to terms with his relationship with Louise.

“We loved the food and the company,” Louise said, carrying a stack of plates to the sink. “You're welcome to sit and watch the news with us. I want to see if they mention the library.”

Sal found the remote on the coffee table and turned the TV back on. “Sit down, Betta.”

“No, thanks. I got sewing to do.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow, then. Thanks again, sis.” Sal gave her a kiss on the cheek as she was leaving. He'd done all he could. Losing him was going to be tough for her. But he couldn't put his life on hold for his sister. Maybe she'd eventually meet someone. It would be difficult, though. Alligator Bayou was not normally the place to find new people. He'd been really lucky that Louise showed up.

He went to the sink and began to rinse the dishes.

Louise's phone rang and Sal deliberately kept the sink on so that he couldn't hear what she said. He was afraid it would be bad news. He risked a glance at her. A slow smile crossed her face as she hung up.

“We won,” she said.

Sal ran to her and lifted her off the ground, swinging her around in his arms. He set her down carefully and hugged her hard.

C
HAPTER
42

S
ylvia and Jake hired professional movers, so there was nothing for Louise to do except babysit the kids while they loaded suitcases into their two SUVs. She stood helplessly by the cleaned-out house, thinking she really might break down for the first time since Brendan announced that he'd been seeing Julia.

“Girl, if you cry, then I will,” Sylvia said, carrying the last shopping bags of toys out to her SUV.

The children seemed unaffected by what was about to happen. Max, Jimmy, and Zoe played with sticks in the yard. Zoe used hers to draw circles in a patch of dirt. Max and Jimmy pretended that theirs were swords. Baby Madeleine was already strapped into her car seat, asleep.

“We'll talk on the phone every day.” Sylvia embraced Louise, enveloping her in citrus-scented perfume.

Louise doubted it. Sylvia would be busy with her kids and her new life, whatever it turned out to be. They wouldn't be able to walk a few steps in the library and find each other. They'd still be friends, but it wouldn't be the same. “I owe you for finding me a new career.”

“God, girl, I hope I can handle being a mommy all day,” Sylvia said, pulling away and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

“You'll figure it out. You'll probably get some great idea and start your own business.”

“Nope, I am dedicating my life to my children. PTA, homework help, sewing their clothes from scratch. No more chicken nuggets for dinner.”

“Supermom is a hard job.”

“I know. I'm going to miss this. A lot.”

“Come on, babe. We should be driving while Maddy's asleep.” Jake emerged from the back of the second SUV, where he'd been rearranging the load.

“I'm coming,” Sylvia said. “You're going to be fine. We'll both be fine. Hey, I'll come back for your wedding.”

Louise glanced down at her ring—an heirloom from Sal's grandmother. He'd told her that Betta cried when she gave it to him. “We haven't set a date yet.”

“Well, get on it. I'm counting on being matron of honor. Ew, that term is so yuck! But I'll still do it if you pick out a nice pink dress for me.” Sylvia adjusted the strap of her oversize purse. “Come on, Jimmy. Say good-bye to Max and get in the car.”

Jimmy jumped up. “Bye, Max!”

“Bye.” Max watched his friend leave. He actually seemed a little sad. He was slowly becoming more aware of the fact that some things were permanent and others temporary. The broken chalk couldn't be fixed. The ripped book could be taped back together, but it would never be the same. Louise had tried to explain that Jimmy was leaving for good, but she couldn't tell whether Max really grasped what was going to happen.

As the doors slammed and the SUVs pulled away, Max put down his stick. Zoe didn't seem to notice that anything had changed. She continued scratching in the dust.

Max stared at the driveway. Only Louise's mom mobile was left. “Jimmy is going to Texas.”

“Yes,” Louise said.

“I'm hungry and thirsty,” Max said.

C
HAPTER
43

F
or her interview before the police jury, Louise got out the navy-blue suit she'd worn for her first day of work in Alligator Bayou. While she was combing her hair, Zoe came in and touched her skirt. “Princess.”

“Do I look like a princess? I hope so.”

Zoe reached into the closet and got out a pair of polka-dot high heels. “Shoes.”

“I don't know, Zoe.” Louise eyed the peep-toed pumps. “I wasn't going to wear those.”

“Shoes!” Zoe insisted.

Louise gave in. The girl was quickly developing a sense of fashion and refused to wear any of Max's hand-me-downs. Luckily, one of the regular library patrons had given Louise a diaper box full of mostly pink clothes in Zoe's size.

In the polka-dot shoes, Louise felt taller, which was good. She would need any advantage, real or imagined, in dealing with Mrs. Gunderson.

 

Mrs. Gunderson was late, forcing the rest of the jurors and Louise to stare at one another over the library folding table in the former church sanctuary, waiting. After a few minutes, Marty Pratt left her seat and approached Louise. “I just want you to know that you should have this thing. Mrs. Gunderson's preferred candidate isn't even remotely qualified for the job.”

Louise stiffened. The Gund had a favorite candidate?

“Don't worry.” Marty patted Louise's shoulder and returned to her chair just as Mrs. Gunderson arrived.

“We will have to make this quick,” she said, situating her ample rear end in a chair. “I have an appointment in thirty minutes.”

“Well, I'm afraid the interview might continue without you, then,” Marty said.

Delilah, who was dressed head to toe in polka dots, leaned over to admire Louise's shoes. “I love those.”

Mrs. Gunderson gave her the patented glare.

Reverend McDonald had just begun asking the first question when Breaux walked in, carrying his reporter's notebook. “The interviews for these positions are supposed to be public,” he said.

Marty turned to Mrs. Gunderson. “You said you were going to send him an e-mail.”

“I must have forgotten.” Mrs. Gunderson pretended to search through her folder of papers. She positioned her chair to face the window and looked outside at the parking lot.

Breaux took a seat and waved his hand. “Please proceed.”

Reverend McDonald glanced down at the paper in front of him. “We all know the improvements that you and Sylvia have made to the library over the past year or so. What I guess we all want to know is how you plan to continue that legacy, especially without her.”

Mrs. Gunderson snorted but didn't look away from the window.

Louise folded her hands on the table, told herself not to look at them, glanced up at Mrs. Gunderson, who was staring at the parking lot, and focused on Marty instead. “I have a high level of commitment to this library and this community. I will do my best to hire someone just as good as Sylvia, and I have every intention of continuing our vision for the library. I won't be teaching Zumba classes, though.”

Marty and her friend laughed. Mrs. Gunderson let out another dismissive grunt.

After that, Louise relaxed. She tried to pretend that Mrs. Gunderson wasn't in the room as she answered the jurors' questions. None of them were too difficult, and by the end they were talking about whether the new library building could have a kitchen for cooking classes.

As Mrs. Gunderson got up to leave, she rapped her folder against the table. “Just one more thing, Ms. Richardson. It has come to my attention that you applied for some jobs at universities outside Louisiana. So perhaps your level of commitment isn't what you claim.”

“I did apply for a few positions. But that was months ago, before the tax passed. I didn't know whether I would be laid off, so of course I looked for something else.”

“Well, the University of Iowa called Mr. Foley. It appears that they are preparing to offer you a job.”

 

Louise sat down on the couch and put her head in her hands. Brendan and Julia had taken the kids to
Sesame Street Live
. Louise wasn't sure that Max and Zoe were old enough to sit through the production, but she'd let them go anyway. Now, she was glad for the silence of the house. She needed to think, or maybe wallow.

Sal brought her a glass of wine and set it on the table. “I'm not convinced that you messed up the interview.”

“I hesitated. I didn't come out right away and say, ‘I want to stay here, tell the University of Iowa to shove their job.' That's what I should have done and I didn't.”

“It's tough. It would be a really good opportunity.”

“Yeah, but I bought this house, we're going to get married, Brendan and Julia are here, and I have a job in Alligator Bayou, even if I don't get the director position.”

Sal put his arm around her shoulders. “Still, it would be tempting. And I would move with you anywhere.”

“No, I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you. Whether I get the director job or not.”

“Good. Because I want you to stay. Let's go out to eat. We're going to celebrate that the interview is over. Even if you didn't get the job, you tried your best.”

“I was fine until the end.”

Sal took her hand and helped her up. “Come on. How does Main Street Café sound?”