The Book Waitress (Book 1, The Book Waitress Series)
Read The Book Waitress (Book 1, The Book Waitress Series) Online
Authors: Deena Remiel
The Book Waitress
By Deena Remiel
The Book Waitress
By Deena Remiel
Copyright ©2012 by Deena Remiel
Kindle
Edition
Cover Art by
Scott Carpenter
The Book Waitress
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher and/or author, except for brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews.
Published by Firewalker Press
Dedication
To my favorite book waitress, Jamie Everett
Acknowledgements
Where do I begin to thank all the people that helped put this series together? I shall begin with my husband and kids, who suffer through days of seeing my body on the couch, but know I’m not really there. My aunt and uncle have been invaluable, giving me a hideaway when I needed it for some serious laying down of words. My friends, Amber, Belinda, Kris, and all my girls who fight for keeps… they
are my army against self-doubt.
When I decided that my female lead would be a librarian, I didn’t need to go far to research. I’d spent a year working as one! But I also checked my
rememberings
with Miranda Wyatt Mills, and she helped validate my memories. I knew that as time went by, I would need help with keeping The Book Waitress fan page thriving, and Kristina
Haecker
stepped right up to the plate.
I don’t know what I’d do without her. Whatever would I do without my dear editor, Nicole Hicks? When others cringe at editing, with her as my editor, I look forward to it.
Finally, I must thank all of my wonderful fans and friends who have embraced my stories time and again. It is for you that I write and cr
eate these fantastical worlds.
Table Of Contents
Chapter One
“Watch your step
there
, young lady.
” A deep, raspy voice broke through Camille Dutton’s frantic mind. “
Just up those stairs to the upper deck. It’ll be about eight minutes to
the i
sland once we shove off. Enjoy your trip.”
“Thank you.”
Eight minutes? It might as well
be
eight years!
Ignoring the nausea threatening to
erupt
and drown the ferry before it even left the dock, she smiled graciously. The
weather-beaten
gentleman
, the deckhand, she supposed,
nodded
at her with a crinkled smile
and ushered the next person onboard.
With every step she
climbed
up
the steep metal stairs
, she repeated
a
mantra to soothe
unsettled
nerves.
It’s not forever
.
It’s not forever.
Finding an opening at the bow of the ferry, she
took up temporary residence against the railing
, and dropped
the
heavily laden
backpack from her shoulder to the deck
. The
churning
clouds
mirrored her
dark
mood and hovered dangerously low over
the expanse of water. Eight minutes of
deep, dark
wet
ness
would now separate her from the
life
Camille had
known for twenty-four
years.
She’d
never
been further than eight
y
miles from her home
.
She didn’
t need to travel far;
not when she had tho
usands of books at her disposal
to take her wherever she wanted to go.
Her
involuntary transfer
to the Shelter Island Library
, or
forced exile
as she
preferred
to call it, would
last only
as long as it took t
o find a permanent librarian
.
Her boss
had
promised
,
and she
vowed to
hold him to it.
With her parents
recen
tly passed, she longed to stay in the
house
where
they’d
infused her life with cherished moments.
T
his upheaval at work made
their absence
all the more painful to bear.
Shelter Island seemed the antithesis of its name. Camille
had been
lovingly
sheltered
by her parents
and
insulated within the
comforting
walls of
her
town
’s
library
.
S
he’d read
all of the books
repeatedly
,
from cover to cover
.
Going
to this
unknown
town
,
living in a strange home, and w
orking at an unfamiliar library
left her
feeling
exposed to more than just the elements
.
It invited all manner of creature born to lay siege on her well-constructed
fortress of solitude
.
The ferry’s whistle blew as its engines kicked on and thrust the boat into the Sound.
She gasped
and closed her eyes,
pressing
fingers
against the cold steel
that kept her from jumping ship.
A
gusty breeze whi
pped her ponytail into a
frenzy of curls that
slapped
at
her neck and cheeks
.
Eyes
smarted and watered as a rush of air assaulted her face. She
couldn’t
bear to
watch
as
her l
ife receded
into the horizon
.
Looking
forward
was just as painful,
and
she
ponder
ed
what lay ahead
.
Laughter broke through her
misery
as two young children raced about playing tag.
The raucous offered her a few moments of reverie, thinking back fondly on her own childhood antics. She chuckled lightly.
Oh, to be so young and
happy-go-lucky
! I remember having that
carefree
exuberance
…
once upon a time.
If only she could
find
a tenth of the fearlessness she
’d
had as a child, she w
ould take on this latest challenge with all the ferocity
of a
lioness. Instead, she’d allowed it to wither and die along with
those she’d
mournfully
laid to rest.
Maybe it wouldn’t be as horrible a transition as she envisioned. Maybe her anxiety skewed her perception of reality. She read enough psychology bo
oks to know
for certain, and ga
ve herself an
amateur diagnosis
—
borderline agoraphobic with a possible detachment disorder. Who was she kidding?
I’m
just plain socially awkward and
can’t stand crowds.
Getting moved
to Shelter Island
, then,
should be a dream come true. The population for most of the year hovered
at
around three thousand
but
shot up during the summer. The library, with its historic pedigree, offered her the opportunity to read books that no other library had in its possession. But something didn’t feel right. Out of all the other librarians, those who were much more outgoing than she,
why
had they picked her?
Jolted from her musings by the arrogant blast of the horn, she trudged over
to
the stairwell
and conducted her death march
to the gate
as the boat
docked. People nudged passed her with disregard, waving at friends or family, she supposed, who waited onshore and shouted greetings of welcome. Not one person among them had come for he
r. She hadn’t expected anyone because she d
idn’t arrange for
a pick up
.
Admittedly, she hadn’t exactly planned well for this move. Denial and no one to snap her out of it came to bite her in the butt.
Hoisting the monstrosity of a backpack onto her shoulder,
she mustered all the fortitude she had within her
, brokered a smile,
and wal
ked off the ferry to find a cab and her new home.
***
Camille slipped her hand inside her jacket pocket and pull
ed out a crinkled note with an
address scrawled on it. She looked at it, peered at the house through the cab window, and sighed.
Yup, this is now home.
It fit her mood perfectly. Overgrown shrubbery and weeds surrounded the front yard of unkempt grass
.
Rotted
stairs led up to a small wooden
porch with a pair of rocking chairs set on either side of the front door.
“We’re here, Miss. Need help with your bag?”
“Oh, no. Thank you, I’ll manage.
” She fished inside her pocketbook for her wallet
and keys to the house
.
“
How much will that be?”
“Ten dollars and fifty cents.”
“Here’s fifteen. Keep the change.” She thrust the bills into his hand and put her wallet away.
“Thanks. You ever need to get somewhere in a hurry, call me. Here’s my card.” He handed her a bright yellow business card and smiled.
“Will do.” The cab door creaked as she opened it, and screeched even louder as it closed. As she stood on the sidewalk, the cabbie tore off up the road, leaving her to size up the remainder of the house’s
exterior
.
“
Can’t judge a book by its cover, Cammy
.
”
No, but it sure tells a lot about what’s inside.
The roof and siding looked
to be
in good condition, and the
sea foam
green shingles complimented the greenery of the
Dogwood
trees
on the property. All in all, for a rental,
she rated it three stars
. She’d
tackle
the overgrown bushes and weeds
eventually
.
She decided standing outside only delayed her complete transition to her new life. S
winging the key ring on her finger,
she
marched up the path to the front door, praying the inside would
be a bit more appealing
.
