I blushed even more from embarrassment and nodded. “It’s hot in here.”
I had to come up with something.
“Well then, we shall walk the courtyard until you’re feeling well,” he suggested, as he extended his arm. “I’d love to hear all about where you’re from. And since your escort seemed to wander off, I shall take over that duty today.”
I took his arm like I saw the girl do outside and he led the way. We went out into the cool air, and I could feel my cheeks go back to normal. The country was breathtaking. Green as far as the eye could see. I spotted a stable and horses and carriages. It was so strange not to see cars and a highway. I was struck with the thought of how the city and this home looked in in my time period. I was sure it didn’t look like this anymore.
That saddened me. Things were so much simpler here, and I wished they would have stayed this way. It made me think of all the changes they were trying to make in Bay Ridge while I was away at college.
“Are you feeling better, Emmeline?”
The way he said my name was thrilling, although I usually hated it. From a very young age I had asked to be just Emme, instead of Emmeline. I thought Emmeline was an old lady name and wished my parents could have named me something normal.
Coming from his lips though, I gained an appreciation for it. He smiled at me and a dimple formed in his cheek that matched the one in his chin. God, he was perfect. Why was he walking me around the courtyard? Why not some beautiful English girl?
“I feel better, thank you.” I decided to speak in short sentences so he wouldn’t notice I was talking so oddly while trying to get to know him at the same time. “You never told me your name.”
“We have plenty of time for that, don’t we? I mean to get to know you first, Emmeline.”
“Ah, you’re being mysterious then. Okay, I can play that game.”
He laughed and squeezed my hand. His laugh was melodious, and it made me giggle a little. I’d actually met a perfect specimen, and I didn’t even know his name.
“Where are you from, Miss Bailey?”
Oh, I’m from the future. No big deal. I parked my DeLorean in your stable.
“I’m from Maine, and you can call me Emmeline if you want. I actually like the way you say it.”
We stopped walking and he smiled even bigger than before.
“You’re from Maine? That’s wonderful. Surely you can fill me in on everything I will need to know. I’ve been trying my best to learn the language.”
Learn the language?
“I don’t understand, are you going to Maine with Master Jack?”
He laughed, and his stunningly blue eyes twinkled as they hit the light.
“Yes, you can say that. I’m eager to arrive in America.”
“It’s not as beautiful as this, trust me.”
He nodded like he understood, but he didn’t. Once he arrived in America, it wouldn’t be like this, not for long. Soon he would learn to miss his home as I had missed mine while away at college. But like me, he’d get used to the differences and learn to hide the disappointment.
He laughed and before long, sadly, broke free from me.
“Your American language is much different from England. You say words I find hard to understand. Maybe you can assist me?”
Oh, I’d love to assist him, but what I had planned didn’t involve talking.
“I can help you learn the lingo if you’d like. One condition,” I teased.
“Anything,” he said as he took my arm again.
“You teach me the ways of your time, ah, I mean world. And you tell me your name.”
He nodded. “I’ll do my very best.” He placed his hand over his heart and said, “My name is—”
At that moment the valley started to get hazy and blurry; I clung to him not sure what was happening. Then I heard my name being called somewhere in the distance, and that’s when I was no longer looking at England or my handsome stranger but staring at Rose instead.
Six
“I’ve been trying to wake you up for at least five minutes! You’re a deep sleeper,” she exclaimed, as she sat down next to me on the bench. I was back in the library and in my hands was the book. So, it was just a dream then. I had in fact been asleep, and I was dreaming it all. England, time-travel, and my handsome stranger was all a fabrication of my sleeping mind.
What a dream to have, though. He was perfect!
I wanted nothing but to be back there with him. His voice was so real, and I swear I could still hear it as if I was there with him still.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
I looked outside. The stormy night had passed, and day had appeared in its place. Snow covered the ground as plow trucks tried to work their way onto the heavily packed roads. No doubt there was a foot or more of ice under that snow, which would make for a messy few weeks. I wished I was back in California. They didn’t have snow like we have here in Maine. I can’t even recall one cold winter night there. I shivered just thinking about stepping outside in that mess.
“So,” Rose said, breaking my train of thought, “what are you reading?”
She pointed to the book that was now closed and missing a page marker. I pulled the book up and for some reason hid it underneath a stack of children’s books.
“Nothing really. Just a book on history,” I lied.
I realized then that Gram asked me to protect the books and here I had it out in the open. To be honest, I didn’t really even attain any information about the book itself; I must have fallen asleep before I got too invested.
“I came by to see how you’re doing here all by yourself?” Rose asked, looking concerned. She was really good at that look. She had it down to a science it seemed.
I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and realized I needed a shower. Curly hair was terrible in the morning. There was never a good morning look when your once fresh bouncy curls were flattened all night long.
“I’m doing okay, I guess. Dealing with Gram’s loss has been tough. The weather doesn’t make it any easier.” I pointed to the cold street and the dark morning sky. “I need to sort things out today, hire a librarian, and get back to school. But I made that stupid promise to Gram.” I mentally kicked myself.
“It’s okay to hire help, Emme. Maybe if she works out, you can get back to school. But transfer here first and take night classes until you figure it all out.” It was actually an awesome idea to transfer. It wouldn’t take me long to finish school and train someone to take over the library; I’d be in England in no time.
“I heard that this big company was trying to buy your Gram’s library for millions of dollars. It could be worth hearing them out, ya know?”
I recalled seeing letters from some company on Gram’s desk. The thought of selling this place made me literally sick. What would they want to do with an old building like this, other than the land?
“Well, I have a shift,” Rose said as she looked at her watch. “Call me later?”
“Yeah.”
My mind was now on other things. I felt bad about blowing Rose off, but I was kind of scatterbrained. I hadn’t returned her calls lately, but I would start being a better friend. I hugged her goodbye and got my butt in the shower.
As the hot water ran over my chilly skin, I couldn’t help but think back on the dream I’d had. It all came back to me as if they were memories, but I knew that was crazy. Nancy the cook wasn’t real and neither was the dreamy guy that I had met. I let the dream go and decided it was time to focus on real life.
After I conditioned my hair tremendously and ran my fingers through it a million times, I tackled the letters on Gram’s kitchen table. Numerous bills, which to my surprise had been paid months in advance, and letters from the builders that wanted to take over the library. It was the same c
ompany as the one demolishing downtown Bay Ridge—JR Builders. I ignored the letters for a minute and looked at the bills one more time.
I couldn’t figure out how Gram paid all these bills so early. I knew she had some income coming in, but I wasn’t sure what the revenue was from the library. It was not a government owned library. She owned it all herself. She bought the books, computers, shelves, and more. She paid off the building herself, but taxes were taken every year. Also there were standard building expenses and living expenses. The big question was: how was I going to afford to keep the library open and running when I myself had no money?
I shuffled through the bills and set them aside for a moment, and laid my head down on the table.
“How am I going to do this, Gram?”
The phone rang and I reached up for it. “Hello,” I mumbled into the receiver.
“Mrs. Bailey?” a man asked.
I sighed, “No. Mrs. Bailey passed away.” I hated saying those words. They felt so awful on my tongue.
“Oh.” He paused. “I’m so sorry to hear that. My name is Jason. I’m calling about a few letters we tried to send her a few months ago. I have been trying to get ahold of her for some time, but our paths never seemed to cross.”
Letter?
Wait.
“Are you from JR Builders?” I asked now sitting up. I would be giving this guy a piece of my mind.
“Yes. I am—”
“What do you plan on doing to my Gram’s property?” I interrupted.
“Well, I’m glad you asked. We think the property would be a fantastic place for a shopping plaza. A lot of people in town seemed like they would like to have a better location for a food market. Your town doesn’t have much variety in way of clothes shopping either.” He went on and on and I let him talk. Food market. Clothing stores.
Was he kidding me? The trees that surrounded the library would have to all be cut down. The building would be torn down and replaced by a shopping plaza. All the work that my Gram put into this place would be gone. All my memories would be torn down and turned to rubble for clothes.
“No,” I said interrupting him.
He paused for a moment then said, “You haven’t even seen the design sketches yet. They’re amazing. And I promise you, once we talk, you will see my intentions are good.”
I closed my eyes and willed myself to be strong.
“My grandmother wouldn’t want her building torn down and turned into a shopping location for our residents. I mean, what good is shopping when the majority of the town is low income? This is a fishing village, not Beverly Hills. There is history in this town, and Gram would want it to stay that way. She made me promise.”
“May I ask who you are?” His question threw me for a loop. Surely, he wanted to argue some more about my decision. Oh, I was really good at arguing.
“I’m the new owner of the library and the property. My name is Emme Bailey.” I tried to sound grown up and dignified, like that would help in this case.
“Emme, my company is offering up a large amount of money for your grandmother’s property. You said your town was low income, but building job opportunities could help create jobs. And in turn help the town create revenue.”
He was right. It would create jobs for some of the families. It could potentially help the town, but I made a promise to Gram.
“Listen, dude, I made a promise not to sell. And you can talk your talk all day long, but the fact remains I’m not selling.”
Hanging up the phone before he could argue his point any more than he already did, I was feeling weak and almost like I could sell to him. It was not my finest moment. I had to stay strong and keep the library up and running. I had to come up with an idea.
First order of business: hire a library assistant. Second, figure out how to pay her.
I grabbed my old winter coat from my closet and zipped it up to my neck. Then came my snow pants, boots, and waterproof gloves. Did I mention I hated winter in Maine?
I trudged down the stairs to the door and wondered how on earth Gram did this every single winter. I mentally gave myself a pep-talk before heading out. I lived here before and I was used to the cold at some point, right?
As I opened the door, a wintery blast hit me in the face and I remembered why I had a ski mask in my dresser drawer. I salted the steps before I exited so I didn’t slip on the ice. As I poured salt down, I couldn’t help but wish I was back in my dream walking around in sunshine with the guy who had no name. It was warm there and everything about him was delicious. I mentally kicked myself back into reality and finished the steps.
My rental minivan was now gone thanks to Rose. She drove it to the nearest rental car place and turned it in for me. I now would drive Gram’s old ’81 Chevy around these rough Maine roads. I couldn’t believe the thing still ran, but it did. It was a beast.
I hopped in and started the engine. The cold air made starting it on the first try a little difficult, but when it started, the truck roared to life. I drove down to the new coffee shop I saw on the first day I came back. I pulled into the parking lot and saw that I wasn’t the only one in the mood for coffee today. Putting a coffee shop here was one of the smartest ideas this town had.
There were at least nine other people in line before me, and the one barista who looked disheveled at best. She took the orders then ran around like a crazed lunatic to make them. When it was my turn, I noticed her name tag read, Becca.
“Hi,” she said, managing to sound bubbly. I felt bad for Becca and how frazzled she looked. Being nice to her seemed like the right thing to do. I also wanted my coffee made right.
“Hi. I’ll take a house Cup of Joe with extra cream and an apple Danish, please.” She smiled at my simple order and in a few minutes handed it to me.
“Thanks. Can I ask you a question?”
She looked back at her now empty line, took a breath, and said, “Sure. Ask me anything except for if we’re hiring because my boss will say no.”
I laughed and shook my head. “I don’t need a job, thanks. Do you know the best place to advertise for a job position? I’m hiring.”
Her dark brown eyes squinted as she looked at me from head to toe, no doubt wondering why someone so young was hiring for a job position.
“Are you from the city? Trying to hire people for the new construction?” She pointed across the street where JR Builders was now working hard to build a new shopping structure.
I laughed. “No. I’m hiring for the library. Mavis was my grandma.”
She looked embarrassed as her cheeks filled with red. “I’m so sorry. I suffer from mouth diarrhea, and it hits at the worst possible moments.”
I laughed. I liked her instantly.
“Did you want sugar in your coffee?” She pointed to my steaming cup.
“Nah, I like it without sugar.” She poured herself a cup, and when I tried to hand her money for mine, she pushed it away.
“On the house. Sorry about my mouth, earlier,” she said again. “My little sister is looking for a job. She actually just moved back here.”
“Oh yeah, from where?”
“College. It didn’t work out for her.” She put up air quotes and rolled her eyes.
“Ah, I see. Well, I’m trying to hire a library assistant so I can get the place running. I need to get back to school, but first I have to make sure the library is taken care of.”
She nodded and took of her apron yelling, “Ma, I’m taking a break.”
A woman with wild red hair, matching Becca’s, stepped out from behind double doors and took over for her.
“Come sit, we’ll talk some more,” she offered.
It had been so long since I talked to anyone aside from Rose. So I followed her to a corner booth and slid in.
“Tell me about
your sister.”
She laughed. “Well, she needs a job. There’s no doubt about that. She works hard, and she’ll show up on time.”
“Just not a college student then?”
She took a sip of her coffee and shook her head. “Nope. The first of us to get a college dream scholarship and she threw it down the drain. I could slap her silly. I mean, who does that?”
I knew a lot of people who entered school thinking it would be easy for them like high school was, but they soon learn it’s a lot of work.. The studying and note taking, basically the learning itself, is all your responsibility. Most of those people do not do well in school. They’d flunk out or “take a year off.”
I myself flourished in college. I never liked being told how to study in high school. I was, at times, way ahead of my professors when it came to work. As I sat with Becca, I realized I missed school and I missed my friends. I felt cheated when it came to my college experience since I only got one year in. I wanted to go back and to feel that fulfillment that I once had at Berkeley.
“I’ll call my sister for you if you want. Her name is Tarryn.”
I nodded and bit my lip. I tried to not think about my friends back at school and how I hadn’t heard from them recently. I thought about how they’d love the girl sitting in front of me instantly, like I had.
The only time I did hear from them was to see if I was coming back. It was their loss, really.
“Yeah, see if she’s interested. Tell her to meet me at the library tomorrow at ten,” I said.
“Oh, crap. That might be a problem; she’s looking at an apartment tomorrow.”
I sipped my coffee and asked, “She doesn’t have anywhere to stay?”
Becca shook her head. “No. My mom pretty much told us both after high school that we’re on our own. We have to find our own way in life. I have my own place, but she can’t keep living in my one bedroom.”
Her mom seemed harsh to me, but I said nothing. Judging someone’s parents wasn’t my thing. I hadn’t known my parents, and who was I to say that they wouldn’t have made me do the same. Then a lightbulb went on inside my head.
The Librarian Page 5