Three days later, he was gone.
My front doorbell rang, shaking me from my reverie.
“Kendra! Welcome back.”
Her smile seemed strained. “Hey, Do.” She kissed me on the cheek.
“Want a cup of tea?” I offered.
“Sure.” She set her purse down on the living room couch.
“How’s your mom?”
“Great,” Kendra said. “She’s taken up Krav Maga.”
“Uh . . . what?”
“It’s like this Israeli form of self-defense. Martial arts, you know.”
I definitely did not know.
“She showed me how to choke an attacker with his own T-shirt.” She smiled.
“That sounds . . . helpful.”
“Well, my mom’s only in her late fifties, and she lives in Boca, but she wants to be prepared for when she’s an older lady.”
I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “Did you get some good beach time?”
“We mostly went to the pool. There’s a swim-up bar in her complex. I’ve never been hit on by so many men in AARP.”
I laughed. “That must have been a big ego boost.”
“Yeah, it really was.”
“Here, let’s take our tea into the library,” I said, handing her a cup.
We headed for the two wing chairs in the corner, and I pushed back the stack of books on the table to make room for our saucers to fit as well as a plate of chocolate chip cookies that I’d picked up at the store since I hadn’t had time to bake in eons. We both sipped in silence for a few minutes, lost in our own thoughts.
“Dodie, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Mackie told me the adoption is going through.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
“It’s only been a few days.”
Kendra squinted at me.
I felt my face color. “I . . . I . . . guess I didn’t want to believe it,” I whispered.
Kendra threw her arm around me and squeezed. “I know how close you’ve gotten to him. It must be really hard for you.”
“Thank you.”
“You have been really distracted.”
“I don’t think I’ve been that distracted.”
“Hmmm . . .”
I frowned. “You think I’ve been distracted?”
“Did you know I’ve been dating someone recently?”
“Really?”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“I’m sorry, Kendra. Who is it? God, Motormouth Benton must be in a tailspin.” I felt a twinge of guilt at how curt I’d been with him about her.
Kendra didn’t smile at my joke. “He doesn’t mind, actually.”
“Tell me about this new man!”
“Not right now. There’s something else serious I want to talk to you about.”
“Okay.” My stomach turned.
“It’s this place.” She gestured around the sunroom.
“What about it?”
“Well, I ran into Lula at the store the other day, and she mentioned that she’s come here a couple times with the kids on weekdays after school and it’s been closed.”
“There was actually only one weekday when I had to close and one where I opened an hour late.”
Kendra ignored me. “When I was in the library at school the other day, Cameron mentioned that he and his dad had tried to come on Saturday, but it was all locked up.
“And I didn’t have very good service where I was this weekend, but when I got back, I saw a message from you that said”—she reached into her purse and called up the text—“Can’t make it to the library. Will you take over for me today? Thanks a mill.” She raised her eyebrows expectantly.
When I had gotten back from Little Duck Park, I had seen with horror that the library was still closed. I had no idea Kendra was going away again right after coming back from Florida. I had assumed she would be around because she always had been. Of course, once I had realized what had happened, I was hoping that the fickle gods of text messaging had eaten my message and that Kendra would never know about my slipup.
“I shouldn’t have assumed,” I admitted.
“No, you shouldn’t have. If I had known ahead of time, I would have tried to work something out—even though I can’t promise I can drop everything an hour beforehand. And as it turns out, I had no idea. Neither did anyone else in town who schlepped over here with their hopes up.”
I thought of Elmira’s anxious face the day I had yelled at Benton. This place was her escape. Because of me, the library had been closed on two days with no explanation and had opened late on another day, all in one week. That was not good. I had been treating the library as a privilege, subject to my schedule, when I had opened it as a right the people of Chatsworth had come to depend on.
“Oh, man,” I groaned. “I feel terrible.”
Kendra gave me a sympathetic smile. “Listen, it happens. However . . . to make sure it doesn’t happen again—”
“Oh, it won’t! I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”
“How will you do that? These are Terabithia’s last three weeks here.”
The hairs stood up on the back of my neck.
“If anything,” Kendra barreled on, “you’re going to be busier than you have been. You’re going to want to spend all your free time with him. Not here in the library.”
“That isn’t true. I can do both.”
“Well, you haven’t been doing both very well lately from what I can tell. No offense,” Kendra said.
I bristled. “Listen, it was three times. I’ve been rushing home after school, opening this place up no matter how much I want to get into my pajamas or go to the gym or bake banana bread with cream cheese frosting or slob around on a weekend. It’s time consuming and expensive, and it’s not like I’m getting paid to do this like you are. I wish everyone would get off my back!”
Kendra was quiet while I steamed. After a minute, she said, “Okay. That’s all fair. And I know you don’t need me to remind you that you chose this. It is a lot. Whether you realized how much you were taking on in the beginning or not, you’re in the thick of it now. And it’s obviously getting to you. I’ve never seen you so . . . well, so pissed before.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so pissed before,” I agreed miserably.
“Well, the main reason I am here is to tell you that despite what you seem to think, you don’t have to do this alone. I have an idea. I want to help you in a more official way. Let me take over the library for you for a while. I love helping out here. I would be glad to do it.”
My mouth hung open. I closed it. “You think I need someone to take this place over for me entirely?”
“Honestly, yes.”
“Listen, I sincerely appreciate the offer, but it’s not necessary. I’d love to have you keep helping out, but I’m not going to turn the library over to you.” I knew she was being nice, but the idea made me feel like throwing up. My library. I couldn’t have anyone thinking I was failing. I couldn’t let the people of Chatsworth down that way. Or myself.
“Why not? It would be totally temporary. Until after Terabithia, um . . .”
I put my hand up before she could repeat it. “Thanks, Kendra. I’ll definitely think about it.”
“I’m not kidding here, Dodie. This is important.”
“I’m aware of that. That’s why I set it up and have worked so hard to keep it going for the past year.”
“Don’t get upset again. I’m only trying to help. You can ask for more help, you know.”
“You’re already helping. I appreciate the fact that you take a couple shifts a week.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Kendra said, looking at me from the side. “There are other ways I can help.”
Did she mean money?
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I could make a financial contri
bution.”
“Thank you, but no.” I couldn’t possibly take her money. It would complicate our friendship.
“Why not?”
“I want to do this on my own. I have to. For this place to be sustainable. Otherwise it’s—no offense—a Band-Aid.”
“Dodie, this isn’t just about time or money. Something’s up with you. I know there is. It’s not just Terabithia. What else is going on?”
It didn’t matter now if I told someone. The pressure of months of keeping it in was like air inside a balloon that kept getting pumped up further. It was ready to pop, and as soon as Kendra stuck a pin in, the secret burst out of me: “It is about Terabithia. I wish I was adopting him!”
I had said it out loud! A feeling of relief rushed over me. Someone else knew!
“I know.”
My eyebrows lifted.
“I mean, I figured. Dodie, you are such a deeply caring person. And I know how much you loved Sullivan. But this isn’t just a library. Or a job. This is a human being. It’s forever.”
“Of course it is, and it would be. That’s what Sullivan would have wanted. Something permanent. And I feel like crud that I can’t offer Terabithia that, or Mackie and Jeff. I feel like a failure.”
“Why? How is this your fault?”
“I guess it’s not. But I feel like, I don’t know, if I had worked a few jobs and saved more money instead of going to art school . . . or if I had spent less time reading . . . or . . .”
“Come on, Do. How could you have known this situation would come up? How can you blame yourself for trying to do what you love or for trying to figure out what you want your life to be?”
I knew she was right. But that didn’t change anything. Disappointment flooded my chest. It was exactly as I had thought. Telling someone hadn’t helped. It only meant that someone else knew I had failed.
“What does Shep think about it?”
I looked away.
“He thinks it’s not the right time, doesn’t he?”
“Well, I haven’t exactly told him . . . ,” I admitted.
“What?”
“I haven’t told him I was thinking of adopting Terabithia.”
“Why the hell not? I mean, he’s your fiancé, right?”
“Yes, but . . .”
“Were you seriously going to spring on him the idea of another person becoming part of your family at the last minute?”
“No. Even if it worked out, he would have had at least a few weeks’ notice.”
Kendra looked like she wanted to shake me. “That is bonkers. Beyond bonkers. A few weeks? That’s nothing. This is a child.”
“I know.” I swallowed hard against the bitterness as tears slipped from my eyes. “But it doesn’t matter anymore, anyway.” It was over.
During the next few weeks, I made a concerted effort to be perfect about the library schedule, but I couldn’t return all the smiles aimed at me by the relieved visitors. Resentment tightened my chest. This huge event was happening in my life, and I wasn’t spending as much time with Boo as I wanted because I was expected in the library.
Although, a little voice tempted me, if I stopped being so full of pride—if I was even a little less full of pride—I could have handed the keys over to Kendra. For the first few days after we talked, she offered again to take more shifts. When I turned her down for the third time, she stopped trying. I knew she would only come now if I asked her. But I couldn’t. I had to know whether I could juggle all the things in my life—a job plus a library plus a fiancé plus a baby (who wasn’t even living with me, so it didn’t fully count).
When I added all those things up in my head, it sounded crazy even to me. I was exhausted. I tried to put on a brave face for Shep when he came over after work to help me reshelve and tidy up the library or carry boxes of newly donated books to the front desk to be cataloged. Later, when I felt his hand on my hip as I started to drift off into a troubled sleep, the warmth would spread through me, and I would find the strength to stay awake long enough to remind him how much I loved him. The truth was we were barely seeing each other during the daylight, and when we were, Boo’s imminent departure sat heavy between us. I should have been the happiest bride-to-be in the world. Instead, the thought of adding one more thing to my plate made me want to scream with terror.
Only a few more weeks, I would tell myself, but the idea of what would happen at the end of them was definitely not a comfort.
—FIFTEEN—
October 2008
October 1 came. Then October 2.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to show up tomorrow morning?” I asked Mackie, my voice trembling as I changed Boo into his pajamas.
“Of course,” she said, patting my shoulder. I couldn’t bear saying goodbye to him one single day sooner. “We’ll see you at nine. Jed and Eileen will be here at ten.”
At ten! I opened my mouth on the verge of asking if I could come at eight. Or seven. Or five.
At home, Shep put on Never Been Kissed, figuring it would cheer me up. It didn’t. I was exhausted and wired at the same time. He tucked me in before hopping in the shower. I twisted and turned in my bed, trying to get comfortable, to shut my mind off, but memories of Terabithia streamed through like water. The sound of his laughter at his debut party. His fingers dipping into the peanut butter pocket on the cookie after Sullivan’s funeral. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of the lending library while he dumped over the tubs until he found The Piping-Hot Frog Book. Pushing him on the swings, from our first trip to Little Duck Park when he was an inert little lump to now when he would pedal his legs to go higher and higher. Some part of him was mine, but after tomorrow he would be beyond my reach. I sucked in lungfuls of air, trying to steady myself with the reassuring scent of Shep’s soaking-wet hair beside me. The hours crawled.
At eight forty-five the next morning, I was in my car.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Shep’s voice was gravelly. He might have sounded like my very own Dark Knight, but he looked like a sexy angel with the sheet only covering his delectable bottom half.
“No, you sleep. I’ll come straight home after,” I promised.
“Okay. We’ll go eat our faces off at a big brunch.”
My hands were shaking as I turned the key in the ignition. I tried focusing on the music on the radio. I should have had Shep come with me. Or Kendra. I didn’t know if I could do this on my own. No, I had to—for Boo. For Mackie and Jeff too.
I pulled into the driveway at 8:59 and rang the doorbell. No one answered. That was strange.
Mackie and Jeff came down the stairs.
I panicked. “Where’s Boo? Did they come early? Is he gone already? Oh my God, he’s gone, and I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
“No, he’s here. I put him back down; he was so sleepy this morning I could hardly wake him in the first place.”
Something was definitely up. Mackie and Jeff seemed really calm. Too calm. “Have a seat, Dodie,” Jeff said.
I cut right to the chase. “What’s happening with Jed and Eileen?”
Mackie and Jeff exchanged a look.
“What, are they coming? Not coming? What’s going on? Please tell me. I’m going to explode.” My voice escalated higher and higher, but I couldn’t seem to do anything about it.
“They’re not coming . . . because Eileen is pregnant.”
I swayed on my chair. “What? I thought—I thought—” I stammered.
“They couldn’t have children?” Jeff said.
“Yeah.”
“So did they.”
“Oh my gosh . . . that’s . . . um . . . unexpected. So what does that mean for the adoption?”
“They haven’t decided for sure yet,” Jeff said. “But they’re not likely to go through with the adoption now.”
“Really?” Relief washed over me like cool water.
“They don’t feel they can support two children right now, two babies. Especially an adopted child—even though Terabi
thia’s pretty well adjusted here now, it could be difficult for him to move to a new home again—and a newborn baby. It’s financial too. They make a good enough living, but it would be really tight with two young kids.”
I searched Mackie’s and Jeff’s faces. “Are you okay? I mean, this must be a huge blow for you.”
To my astonishment, Jeff and Mackie started laughing. It was nervous laughter but genuine nonetheless. “We’re relieved as all get-out,” Jeff admitted.
My mouth dropped open. “Does that mean he’ll be staying with you?”
Mackie frowned. “No, we still think it’s best if someone younger than us adopts Terabithia. I guess we weren’t quite ready yet. We’re grateful for a little more time with him.”
“Me too,” I said so forcefully that Mackie and Jeff laughed again.
If ever there was a sign from on high, this was it. I tried to stop myself from saying anything. It wasn’t the right time. But I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Please consider me. I’m sorry—terrible timing, right? But think about it. Please.”
Mackie rubbed her forehead and gave me an exhausted smile. “If we are going to seriously consider this, we would have to treat you like any other adoption candidate. Well, not like any other—there are some things that we already know for certain, like how much you love children, especially Boo, and how great and caring of a mother you will be.”
My eyes teared up. They knew this about me?
“On the other hand, we have to make sure it’s the best situation for Terabithia. That he will be safe and well cared for and a top priority for the person or people raising him. So we would have to ask you the hard questions, the invasive questions. About relationships and marriage and finances and thoughts on education. Are you up for that?”
I was nodding. Of course. I had to be thinking of all those things now. All those things. A lot of things. But that’s what was typical when you had a child. You had to divide your resources—attention, money, time—and always make sure your child felt loved and cared for.
And I had to tell Shep. I knew I should have told him before we got engaged so he didn’t feel like he was stuck. But I had always found excuses—that I was afraid of failing, that Jed and Eileen were adopting Terabithia. Now the way was clear for me. “Can I stay until Boo wakes up?” I asked.
The Lending Library Page 18