What the Librarian Did

by Karina Bliss

  He glared down at her. “Is that what you think our fight was about?”

  “Wasn’t it?”

  He thought about it. God, she liked him for that. Even angry he was willing to question his motives. It made Rachel examine her own more closely. This wasn’t just about making Devin keep his word; she needed his understanding.

  Scattered drops hit the concrete path, and one splashed cool on her face.

  “Maybe my ego’s involved,” he admitted.

  The shower became a deluge within seconds. He took her arm and they ran for cover to the vestibule of the gothic clock tower, built in the 1920s, that was the university’s most striking building. Rachel always expected to see Quasimodo swinging from one of the tall spires. At this time of the morning, seven-thirty, there were few students about and their footsteps echoed on the marble floor. Devin positioned himself near one of the massive oak doors and stared out at the pounding rain. Wanting to escape as soon as possible, she thought.

  “About yesterday-” she began.

  “What really shocked me,” he interrupted, still watching the rain sheeting onto the steps, “was how quickly I went from lover to enemy.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said simply. Yesterday, she’d dropped her guard for the first time in years, and his dissent had felt like an attack. The thought of telling a hostile Mark the truth terrified her. She could never make him like her enough to overcome the fear of rejection. But admitting that would reveal her vulnerability. “When you questioned my decision to postpone telling Mark, it took me by surprise. I know you were only trying to help.”

  All she needed was a little time to rehearse, to win Mark’s trust. Was that so much to ask? She was framing her argument when Devin turned his head.

  “I’ve been trying to piece all this together…When did you find out who Mark was?”

  “A couple of days into term, but I couldn’t say anything to him. As far as I knew, his parents had never told him he was adopted.”

  “He found out on his own. They still don’t realize.”

  That explained why they’d never contacted her. If it wasn’t for Devin Rachel might never have found out Mark knew he was adopted, let alone looking for her. Thank God for him. She felt a rush of gratitude, affection.

  “So the first date…it wasn’t payback for teasing you. You were trying to assess whether I was a bad influence?”

  Rachel swallowed. She guessed where this was leading. “Yes.”

  Devin said slowly, “And you agreed to a second date-?”

  “It wasn’t a date. Remember? I was very clear about that.” The facts and nothing but the facts. “I hadn’t made up my mind about you, and platonic kept things simple.”

  His forehead creased in a frown. “So you slept with me because…?”

  It was her turn to look out into the rain, lessening now to desultory drizzle. “I’d…revised my poor opinion of you, obviously.”

  “Obviously?” Devin turned her to face him. “You knew I spend a lot of time with him. Dating me meant you would, too.”

  That stung, but Rachel wasn’t here to fight with Devin again. Far from it. “You really don’t trust people’s motives in being with you, do you?”

  His gaze didn’t waver from her face.

  “Okay,” she conceded. “The unvarnished truth. I won’t say your ‘usefulness’ didn’t bother me, which is why I held off getting romantically involved.”

  “Maybe you could have tried harder.”

  Her heart started to pound. “When I accused you of trying to seduce me the other night, you said you’d changed your mind-until I changed it back.” She coaxed him with a rueful smile. “Can’t I succumb to the same temptation?”

  Devin wanted to smile in return, he really did. But he’d been screwed over so many times.

  Rachel’s tentative smile faded. She dropped her eyes, but not before he’d seen the hurt in them. Instinctively, he reached out a hand.

  Head still down, she said, “I’m not asking you to lie to Mark, but…”

  Devin returned his hands to the pockets of his denim jacket. “Stay out of it?”

  Sun broke through the clouds, glinted off the wet trees.

  “It’s a lot to ask,” she admitted.

  “No,” he said. “Staying out of it is exactly what I want to do.”

  There was a moment’s silence. That was the thing about intelligent women. They didn’t need things spelled out when a guy moved on. But he didn’t want to hurt her. “The thing is, Rachel, I’ve had a complicated couple of years.” Understatement.

  “And you want a simple life.”

  He wouldn’t sugarcoat this. “Yes.”

  “I completely understand,” she said briskly. “This is my mess and I’m sorry for dragging you into it.” She gestured to the open doors and they stepped from the gloom into the brighter world outside. Smiling, she held out her hand. “No hard feelings?” The woman had guts.

  Devin returned the handshake. “No hard feelings.”

  FOR THE NEXT THREE DAYS Devin watched Rachel campaign for Mark’s friendship with a desperate cheerfulness that made him grit his teeth and turn away. He wasn’t getting involved.

  But dear God, didn’t the woman know how to play it cool? Stupid question.

  Around Mark she acted like one of those annoyingly cute little terriers, all wagging tail and eager friendliness as it frisked around your ankles, getting underfoot and gazing up at you with bright eyes begging, Pat me. Pat me. Pat me!

  Okay, that was an exaggeration-the librarian was a little taller than that and her tail was always worth watching. But it felt that bad to Devin. Maybe because he knew how much was at stake. Normally Rachel understood teenagers, but in her need for Mark’s approval, she was doing it all wrong. And this was too important for a misstep.

  On Wednesday Devin gave up and frog-marched a protesting Rachel into her office.

  “What are you doing? I have inventory to clear.”

  Devin kicked the door shut behind him. “I’m staging an intervention before you completely screw this up with Mark.”

  Immediately she was defensive. “I’m not.”

  “Whenever he comes into the library you drop everything to fawn all over him, and giggle at his lame jokes. Hell, he just told me you even let him borrow reference books that are supposed to stay in the library.”

  “I’m authorized to exercise my discretion.” She took refuge behind her desk, behind an attitude of polite condescension. “Was that all?”

  “No.” Eyeing her with exasperation, Devin sat down and rested his boots on her desk. “So you really don’t think your approach with Mark is over the top?”

  Frowning, Rachel shoved his boots off. “I fuss over lots of students.”

  “You don’t offer to lend them your car.”

  “It was raining yesterday and he didn’t have a coat, plus his bag was particularly heavy…”

  “Uh-huh.” Devin put his boots on her desk again. “He’s worried you’re looking for a boy toy.”

  She’d been about to shove his feet off again, instead her fingers tightened around his boots in a viselike grip. “That’s ridiculous,” she said faintly.

  “That’s what I said.” Devin could feel her nails digging through the soft leather. Scratching his eight hundred dollar boots. Gently, he wiggled them free and returned them to the floor. “Fortunately, Trixie had already pooh-poohed the idea.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Trixie-” Devin paused, waiting until Rachel looked at him “-told Mark that you’ve only gone a little crazy since I dumped you. Apparently you miss me.”

  Her gaze slid away from his, then returned blazing. “Wait a minute. Who said you dumped me?”

  He had the answer to his unspoken question. “Hey, don’t blame me. All I said was that we had philosophical differences. It’s not my fault if Trixie and Mark read that as “Rachel wouldn’t put out so Devin dumped her.’”

  “I wouldn’t put…Mark thought…oh,
this is horrible.” Her defiance spluttered and went out. “Okay, I’ll try and pull back my approach.” She started playing with a paper clip on her desk.

  “Tell him the truth, Heartbreaker.”

  “His parents are coming up next Friday… He’s bound to show them around campus.” Painstakingly, she pulled at the thin metal, stretching it out. “I was going to take a short leave, but we have our annual budget meeting and when it comes to lobbying for your section’s textbooks, it’s dog eat dog.”

  “It’s pronounced dawg.”

  She smiled but her fingers twisted the paper clip into a tortured Z. “I know I have to tell Mark before then. It’s just, well, we haven’t got the friendship I’d hoped for.”

  Devin leaned forward and rescued the paper clip. “How about I invite you both to Waiheke for the weekend? Mark would jump at the offer and it would give you the chance to spend time together in a more natural way.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  He’d missed her, and it seemed she’d missed him, but one of them knew how to play it cool. So he told her half the truth. “We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

  She gave him a crooked smile. “Friends.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IT SEEMED APT, thought Rachel, as the ferry docked at Matiatia Wharf on Waiheke early Saturday morning, that Devin lived on an island. She wondered if he realized the significance. With Mark beside her, she disembarked, searching for Devin’s tall figure in the crowd.

  “There’s Katherine.” Mark waved to the slight figure at the end of the pier. “Devin’s mother.” In white capris and a turquoise T-shirt with matching jewelry, Katherine waved back.

  Rachel hadn’t seen her since being discovered in a compromising position with the woman’s son, and she prayed Katherine wouldn’t bring it up in front of Mark. But though her eyes twinkled as he made the introductions, Katherine said nothing about meeting her before.

  “Dev asked me to pick you up,” she said. “He’s embroiled in some business calls from the States. I’m to take you to my place and he’ll meet us there in an hour.”

  “He should have rung me,” said Rachel. “We could easily have caught a later ferry rather than put you to this trouble.”

  “Are you crazy? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Really, her eyes were as wicked as her son’s. Walking between them, Katherine tucked her arms in theirs. “And I wanted to see Mark again. We had a fun dinner together last time you were here.”

  As she steered them toward a small cherry-red Fiat parked by the ferry terminal, Rachel tried to work out how these two knew each other. It must have been the night of the “orgy” Devin had teased her about. She’d been such an idiot.

  Demonstrating exquisite awareness of a teenage male, Katherine asked Mark to drive “us girls.” She sat in the back next to Rachel, pointing out the passing sights. The town’s trendy eateries; a view through the pohutakawas down to the harbor; workers harvesting the rows of laden vines across the hills. “That’s one of the island’s top wineries.”

  Rachel tore her gaze from the back of Mark’s head-how cute, he had a cowlick-and made an appropriate response. They’d had such a lovely time on the ferry. She’d taken Devin’s advice and played it low-key, and Mark had filled the silences she’d left for him.

  An anecdote on childhood seasickness. A request for advice on an assignment. And, disturbingly, a brief rant about phonies, after he’d read a newspaper article rating the trustworthiness of various professions. Librarians rated highly. Rock stars weren’t even on the list.

  “We’re just coming down into my bay now.” Katherine pointed out the window, and obediently Rachel looked at the curve of shingle beach and the colorful iron roofs on the settlers’ cottages scattered against the lush green backdrop.

  “It’s beautiful.” She wouldn’t think about the frightening confession that lay ahead. This weekend was only about her and Mark having fun together. There would be a happy ending with her son. And in situations where happy endings were impossible-her thoughts turned to Devin-silver linings like friendship. Unconsciously, Rachel sighed.

  “We’re here,” said Katherine.

  The Fiat pulled up beside a tiny faded blue cottage so cute Rachel had to resist the urge to hug it when she got out of the car. She patted the sun-warmed concrete seal balancing a birdbath on its nose. “Devin always does that, too,” commented Katherine. “Come in. Mark, you know the way.”

  Inside, mullioned windowpanes gleamed, and the golden kauri floor sloped downward toward the kitchen, which had an old Aga cooker and lace curtains, and smelled of baking and lemon. Mismatched armchairs with fringed cushions lent a charm to the sunlit dining room, and somewhere Rachel could hear an old grandfather clock ponderously marking time. “I love it,” she said.

  “Devin keeps trying to buy me a bigger place, but telling him I need grandchildren to fill it usually shuts him up. Earl Grey?”

  “Thanks.”

  Mark asked for water. “I think he’d be a good dad,” he said, accepting a piece of homemade shortbread.

  “Really?” Rachel thought of Devin with Mark and the other students at her luncheon. “Well, he can be patient when he wants to,” she conceded. “And the kids would always have someone to play with.”

  Katherine fixed her with a meaningful stare. “What he’s never had is the right woman.”

  Rachel bit into the buttery shortbread, still warm from the oven, and diplomatically changed the subject. “Does your other son have children?”

  “Zander? No. But that’s probably a good thing,” Katherine handed Mark another cookie. “He’s far too selfish to put anyone’s interests before his own.”

  She caught Rachel’s blink of surprise and laughed. “I love Zander, but it would have been a lot better for his personal growth if he’d become a minister instead of a rock star. That was his original choice of career, you know. He was in the choir when he was a boy…though in hindsight I think it was less of a spiritual calling than imagining himself center stage in the pulpit.”

  The wistfulness in Katherine’s voice struck a chord. “Do you see him very often?”

  “No.” Katherine picked up the teapot and filled two delicate china cups. The perfumed scent of Earl Grey hung in the air. Rachel had always found it slightly melancholic, like pressed flowers in an old love letter. “But I used to say that about Devin, and now he’s living down the road. So I don’t give up hope.” She handed Rachel her tea.

  Mark stood at the window, looking out to the garden. “The last of the peaches should be ripe by now. Want me to pick them while I’m here?”

  “That’s so thoughtful, thank you. There’s a bucket on the back step.” Through the window, both women watched Mark cross the grass. “Sweet boy,” Katherine commented, sipping her tea. “He and Devin picked for me last time they were here, because my son gets so huffy when he finds me up the tree.

  “I had a little heart trouble earlier this year,” she explained, “and he still treats me like an invalid… So, Rachel, now that we’re alone, tell me how you two are getting on.”

  Rachel watched Mark swing up into the tree. “Much better now that I’ve stopped trying so hard,” she said, then realized Katherine was talking about Devin.

  “Yes, I think women expect rock stars to want kinky sex,” said Katherine thoughtfully. “Bondage, threesomes and such, but Devin says he’s always been a one-woman man. One at a time, I mean.”

  Fascination overcame Rachel’s embarrassment. “You two talk about stuff like that?”

  “Lord, no!” She laughed. “He’s such a prude with his mother. And he’s terribly Victorian about Matthew-my lover. Since you outed us, I’ve been trying to get them to meet, but Dev keeps coming up with lame excuses. Actually, I’m hoping you’ll help me. It’s my birthday and Devin’s taking us all to a local restaurant. But he’s balking at Matthew joining us.”

  “I’ll certainly see what I can do, but I have to warn you my influence is limited,
” said Rachel. “We’ve decided that we’re better off as friends rather than…anything else.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I mean, a rock star and a librarian takes the ‘opposites attract’ theory a little too far don’t you think?”

  “It can work. I was a Kiwi honor student, in the States to research a thesis on symmetric matrices, and the boys’ father was a Texas-born biker. I met Ray when I was working part-time at Marie Callender’s restaurant. He was managing a Harley dealership down the road in West L.A. and was the smartest man I ever knew.” Tenderness lit Katherine’s eyes. “Smart enough to follow me back to New Zealand, anyway.” She paused then smiled sadly. “He died of cancer when Devin was twelve.” She smiled sadly. “I think part of Dev’s problem with Matthew is that he doesn’t like to see another man in Ray’s place.”

  “That’s why Devin likes Harleys,” said Rachel slowly, “and cowboy hats.”

  Katherine nodded. “Are your parents alive, Rachel?”

  “My father passed away some years ago. My mother lives in Hamilton.” She recited the facts the way she always did, without emotion.

  “No siblings?”

  “No. They’d pretty much given up on having a family when they had me. Mom was forty-five when I was born, my father forty-nine.”

  “And you were their miracle.”

  For a moment Rachel said nothing, looking down at her hands. Heavy expectations, heavy disappointments. “Some people aren’t meant to be parents.” She’d never voiced the thought before. But she needed to practice surrendering secrets.

  “And some are,” said Devin, behind her, resting his hands, big, warm and reassuring, on her shoulders. “Mom, how many times do I have to tell you to close the front door? Anyone can walk in. Where’s Mark?”

  “Picking peaches for me,” said Katherine. They all looked out the window and burst out laughing. Mark was balanced precariously on a forked branch near the top of the tree, using his cell phone.

  DAMN, HE’D MISSED the call.

  Red bucket propped against his feet in the fork of the tree, Mark listened to the dial tone. With his left hand, he absently picked a small white peach.