by Hope Lyda
“Is she okay? Is she there all alone?”
“She’s fine. They gave her heavy sedatives, and Levi told them that it might be best to keep her um…comfortable…through this afternoon. I called Ken, and he went over to be with her.”
“What a good man. I wish I knew him better.”
“I joined Reed and Dunson because of Ken’s legacy in the field.”
“We should probably get going.”
“Yeah, I hear the pastor gives you drugs if you get out of line.”
“Oh, so now you’re handsome and funny.”
“You think I’m handsome?” Blaine puffed up his chest like a comic strip character displaying his magnetism.
“I did, but actually it’s just the suit. It reminds me of my ex.”
“This looks like Angus?” Blaine’s face fell.
“Newton,” I said, unable to hold in my laugh. “Gotcha!”
I stood in the spot that was more familiar to me than even my favorite aisle at 80 Days. Blaine kept walking but my feet were planted five inches from a patch of grass growing out of a crack in the sidewalk and seven yards from the front of the church.
Blaine noticed I wasn’t by his side once he opened the door like a gentleman for me. I smiled and waved from my post. He tilted his head to the side and examined his new girlfriend. She had issues.
“I’m not good with long-distance relationships,” he said, trying to resist making fun of me completely.
“This is a momentous occasion. Let me do it my way.”
Blaine shut the door and stood to the side to allow a normal couple to go in.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m waiting. Libby, I’d wait for you any day of the week and twice as long on Sunday.”
I leaned my weight on my heels and then on my toes and looked around me. The usual Sunday activity was in full motion. The nine o’clock bus pulled up behind me and the doors opened and closed. I could smell the fumes as it took off down the street. This was the usual point in time when I would turn and begin my trek toward 80 Days.
I watched Blaine smile and nod to a few more people. He pulled his coat collar in closer as the breeze from the bay funneled up the street.
“I’m almost ready,” I said, still in my spot.
Blaine perked up, but he didn’t seem bothered by my behavior at all.
An older man came by and motioned for Blaine to go on ahead. “Oh, no thank you, sir. I’m waiting for Libby.” Blaine pointed to me and the man waved.
I waved back and started walking.
“Are you ready for this?” Blaine asked kindly.
“I think I’ve been ready all this time. I just didn’t know it. And Blaine?”
“What, Libby?”
“Thanks for waiting for me.”
I looped a roll of red streamers over Rachel’s cubicle while Marsha wrapped her chair with bright yellow. We’d decided to go the way of Barcelona’s flag colors to help say goodbye to Rachel and to celebrate her new life of travel.
“We don’t have much more time before Rachel will be in,” I warned Marsha, who was now wrapping Rachel’s stapler in the yellow paper.
“I told her to come in thirty minutes late to give us more time. She didn’t argue. Hey, Libby.”
“Yes?” I stopped what I was doing and looked down at her.
“Thanks for the elevator talk the other day. I wasn’t in a good place after my sister’s wedding, and I appreciated all that you said. I needed to be reminded that a relationship needs to happen in good time, but also the right time for me. I have so many other interests that I neglect because I’m worried they’ll distract me from…I dunno.”
“The hunt?”
“Yes. How sad is that?”
“Hey, I have two friends who recently voiced their interest in having a relationship and they didn’t have any prospects. Then bam! They are both dating guys who seem like really good matches. Oh, one’s the rocker.”
“Who’s the lucky girl?”
“One of my best friends.”
“Does it bother you that she is dating your ex-boyfriend?”
“Angus was more of a friend, a project, a phase? But probably not ever a true boyfriend. Neither of us was ready for that.”
The roller chair creaked under my boots, so I stood up straighter. Ken was walking down the hall. He looked up and saw me. His eyes were friendly.
“Libby, could you meet with me in five minutes?”
“Sure,” I said with confidence I didn’t have. No wonder he was pleased to see me. He was excited to cross my firing off his to-do list.
“What’s up?” Marsha stood up. A strip of yellow paper hung from her hair.
I shrugged and finished my office decor. Maybe I could do this for a living once I was ousted from public relations for good.
Blaine walked toward me. “We’re meeting with Ken together.”
I placed my hands around my throat in a choke sign. Then I said, “Marsha, can you and Sasha finish up? I could be a while.”
Marsha put the finishing touches on a large bow and stood back to admire her handiwork. “We’ll be fine. So will you, Libby. You’re the best employee this firm has. Even if you do have a thing for rock stars.” She winked at me and returned to her masterpiece.
My mouth opened in shock. I didn’t give Marsha enough credit in the past.
I wandered down to Ken’s office and caught my reflection in Cecilia’s office window. The back of my jacket was flipped up. “Good catch, Libby,” I said. I had to take small victories where I could find them.
“Ken is expecting you,” Tara said as soon as I rounded the corner. She stood up and knocked lightly on Ken’s door before opening it and letting me in.
Ken stood up and motioned me toward a chair next to Blaine. “I understand you’ve had quite the busy past few weeks. Blaine mentioned your concern over Cecilia. I want you to know that she is doing well.”
“And Paulo?”
“Paulo left on a midnight flight the night of the EMP event, thanks to your friend’s documentary short.”
“I certainly hope she won,” Blaine said.
“She didn’t. In all the excitement, we forgot the conflict of interest with Ray and Trevor being judges. Minor detail. But the exposure her documentary short got that night is already getting attention. It should seal her fate as a well-financed filmmaker.”
“Glad to hear it. I’m sorry to transition so quickly to the task at hand, but I think it’s best,” Ken said.
I braced my arms on the chair and my heart on the inevitable. “Certainly.”
“We’ll be facing changes related to your position in this company. Blaine recommended you for a promotion to the creative department when he started here. Cecilia’s behavior sidetracked us all, but here we are finally, and you have a decision to make.”
“I do?” This was going along much better than I had planned. Was the man offering me the promotion I’ve wanted for five years? I felt my pulse quicken instantaneously.
“There’s an associate position in creative, which according to Blaine, is not high enough for your abilities, but it is all we can offer right now. It’s still a jump in status and money from the position you’re in.”
“So what am I choosing between, exactly?”
Blaine spoke up. “Libby, while I’m recommending you for this promotion, Ken has also discovered some of your other talents. There is another position open that would be served well by these skills.”
“Oh, back there. The decorating with streamers thing?”
“No. It’s better than…” Ken started to address my sarcasm with realism.
“Her humor takes some getting used to, Ken.” Blaine sat back and shook his head, laughing.
“I see,” Ken said with an almost smile. “Libby, last week Rachel and Tara brought me this.” He reached behind his chair and pulled up my travel itinerary notebook.
“I swear I didn’t do that on company time. I did use our
three-ring paper hole punch because my little one hole punch at home broke when I got to F through K.”
“You mean there are more of these?”
“Is this about a position with Annie, the corporate travel coordinator?”
Ken opened up the notebook and flipped through the pages. “No. This position is with our humanitarian foundation.”
I was stunned. “I thought that was something made up to threaten Cecilia.”
Blaine and Ken looked at one another for a brief second before Ken said, “It’s real and a big part of the business model I’ve tried to create here.”
“I’m very interested, Mr. Dunson. Those notebooks reflect more than organizational skills. They reflect my desire to travel but also my hope to serve others while traveling. My aunt does humanitarian work in Croatia, and she’s my role model.”
“The position is not as desirable as the other. We need someone who will help us evaluate programs to support.”
“I’d love that.”
“It’d involve some travel for research. Probably not to places this exotic,” he said raising the notebook, “but there is potential for that in time.”
“I’d love that.”
“There’s more. It’s part-time because the foundation has also undergone some changes after the merger. To create full-time status for you, we’d need to give you another fifteen hours. The only kind of position that suits that limited number of hours is, unfortunately, an assistant position.”
I gulped and thought about this for all of ten seconds. It all still felt right. “I could do that.”
“And the only spot we have available for that number of hours is with Cecilia.”
I looked at Blaine in case this was a joke. No joke. I gulped again, “She still works here?”
Ken adjusted his tie. “At the hospital yesterday I promised her a limited part-time position until she retires. Call me crazy.”
“Crazy and then some,” I said without apology and then saw Blaine’s look of horror. “But nice. I know you and Cecilia have a professional history. I respect that.”
Ken seemed a bit surprised by my giving him permission to do his job. “Thank you. So about the position options…what are your thoughts?”
“I want it. I want the humanitarian foundation position even with the…other responsibility.”
“You realize it’s not an actual promotion. The other position pays more.”
“Will I still have medical and the other benefits?”
“Definitely.”
“Then I’m in. I’d love it. In fact, it’s better than I could’ve hoped for.”
Ken and Blaine shared another glance.
“What was that look about?”
“Blaine knows you well. He said you’d take the foundation job. I took one look at your performance record and was convinced you’d take the promotion.”
I looked over at Blaine this time. He was such a good man, and he knew me. “This year I read a book that helped me understand that you can do great things in the least of positions. You can understand your purpose no matter where you are. I know this is right. There’s no need to discuss it further. Thank you for this opportunity, Ken.” I stood and shook his hand. I didn’t want to stay around for any more options or discussion. For the first time in my life, there was no second-guessing.
“Thanks, Blaine.” I shook his hand too and excused myself.
Funny how leaving that office, having just accepted a demotion and a secretarial position felt so very right and intentional. My mother would wish herself dead and then roll over in her grave, once again, if she knew about the choice I had just made.
I went back to my cubicle and picked up the phone to call Cass with the incredibly good news.
Forty-Seven
I tripped over a dip in the cobbled road and started to laugh. How many times had I tripped at that very spot on my way to see Mr. Diddle, Nomad, and those walls of books at 80 Days? Knowing this could be my last journey along this particular side street, I took in the details. Buildings with shared walls stood in varying shades of gray, green, and blue, not unlike the bay on any given day. Bike racks, newspaper dispensers, parking meters, bus stop signs, and enduring maple trees dotted the sidewalk.
I glanced down at the white box I had in my hands. Today I brought a large cupcake for Mr. Diddle and a couple of organic dog treats for Nomad. It was a special day, but a sad one. The door was slightly ajar. With my foot, I pushed it all the way open and ventured in. My eyes searched the narrow space. Maybe I should have talked Mr. Diddle into leasing it to me. With Ariel’s help I could turn this into a reasonable apartment. I smiled, knowing myself too well. I wouldn’t leave the Regal Queen now. It was much too convenient to my church…and to Blaine. As hard as it was, sometimes saying goodbye was the only way to invite something else into our lives.
My entrance scattered dust and a few runaway pieces of paper from the counter. Nomad stirred on his large purple pillow in the corner near a rocking chair. He stood with some effort and made his way to me gently and sweetly. My throat tightened. I would miss this welcome, but I was thankful I would not have to miss Nomad. Pan had agreed to add him to her family while Mr. Diddle traveled. I personally planned to wear down Newton and his “no pets” rule so that I could take Nomad in as my own.
“Hey, buddy.” I leaned over and scratched the top of his head.
“Do I smell sugar of a wonderful kind?” Mr. Diddle came out from his office carrying a backpack in his hand.
“My, aren’t you the traveler. Look at you!” I laughed as he turned several times so I could take in the full effect of his travel attire—a sweat suit and running shoes.
“It’s what the smart travelers wear. And take a look at this bag. I ordered it online, but it turns out this company is right here in Seattle. All this time, I watched Rick Steves on television and didn’t know he was a neighbor.”
“I’ll bet he didn’t know about this lovely little travel and used bookstore, either.”
Mr. Diddle pointed his finger at me. “You can’t start with that marketing speech now. I have a plane to catch.” He checked his watch.
“Here, have this first.” I handed him the cupcake box and he promptly handed the dog bones to Nomad, who now stood between us with an upturned chin to catch the action and the treat.
“It’s good!” Mr. Diddle bit into his treat and approved his finale. Chocolate frosting covered his front teeth.
“Will you have a security company check on the place or do you need me to come by every now and then?” I asked while walking the maze of shelves one last time.
“Didn’t you notice the sign?”
I shook my head absently.
“I have sold 80 Days! Just about a week ago. Can you believe it?”
“You sold it?”
“You look depressed. Wouldn’t you rather have it be available to the next Libby who comes walking along, looking for something, someplace?”
“What if they turn it into something like a dry cleaners or a souvenir shop?”
“I can’t be bothered with ‘what if’ as long as I’m doing what I’m supposed to do. Same for you, Libby.”
I nodded. He was right. Three weeks ago I allowed myself only one day to question “what if I had taken the promotion instead of the humanitarian organization job?” I knew I was headed in a right direction for myself, even though there were many unknowns ahead. A deeper faith meant a greater freedom to trust God’s leading, wherever that took me.
Okay, maybe there was one additional moment of questioning how God works. Two weeks ago, Marsha answered her phone on the other side of the fabric and bracket wall and then screamed at the top of her lungs, “I won! I won! I get to go to Italy with the author of Temptation in Tuscany!” I’d never know if Marsha won because of the bookstore contest form I filled out in her name or because of the one she filled out a week prior. It didn’t really matter. I knew I wasn’t supposed to go right now or in that way. Just the way
I had known I wasn’t supposed to leave everything behind and hop on the plane with Rachel. The waiting didn’t feel easier, only more intentional.
A breeze brushed over the tops of the shelves, scattering more dust. Mr. Diddle’s voice rang out. “You almost missed us. Libby’s here now.”
I peaked around the corner and saw Jude standing in the doorway. I ran up to him and we hugged. I hadn’t seen him since the big unveiling. We’d spoken by phone a couple times, and Pan had kept me informed about how he was doing now that he was back in the spotlight of public adoration. He looked great. I told him so.
“You too, Libby. I guess love and a new job can do a lot for a woman’s inner glow. Or maybe you and Cecilia are sharing facial secrets?”
I hit his arm playfully. “That isn’t funny. Besides, Cecilia was given an additional month off for mandatory counseling before she returns to her post at the firm.”
“Wow, corporate level forgiveness. This could be the wave of the future.”
“Are you here to get Nomad? I could’ve taken him for a few days. Newton owes me that, at least. I can’t believe you let him sell a story to the tabloids about his discovery of your undercover persona.”
Jude shrugged. “The guy loves those magazines. He’ll get his moment in the sun. And it hasn’t hurt his attitude, either. He’s actually cordial when he calls.”
“You let him call you? Who’s the nicest celebrity ever?”
“I want to stay grounded. Oh, that reminds me. I wanted to show you my new contract. I’m glad you’re here.” He glanced at Mr. Diddle, who started whistling some happy tune before handing me a two-page document.
“I don’t know much about music contracts, but I think you got ripped off. This is a few chapters short of your earlier contract.”
He smiled and placed the papers in front of my face. My eyes finally focused in on the first line. “Deed of ownership for 561 Bay Street, establishment: 80 Days Bookstore.”
“You bought the bookstore!”
“I told you I wanted to establish real Seattle roots. I’m expanding it to include used records. Select records, that is. I hired Angus to run it when I’m touring.”