by Sarah Title
“So . . . I should be a jerk?”
“No. Definitely not. You just be you.”
“Good.” He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to be anyone else. No matter how hard he tried.
“I just want to warn you that Joanna has this habit. Whenever people are nice to her, she gets . . . suspicious. Or defensive. Or, just, weird.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t want you to be weirded out by it.”
“By her being weird?”
“By her pushing you away. Because she’ll do it. She’ll try to push you away, and I watched enough Oprah reruns when I was pregnant to know that she’ll push you away before you push her away.”
He thought about when they’d first met, how every conversation ended with her being abrupt—or downright mean—and walking away. Maybe it was just a defense mechanism. Maybe it wasn’t that she didn’t like him.
Because she did like him. He knew it. She acted like she liked him. Sometimes she told him. And it was totally, completely mutual.
“I’m not going to push her away.”
“Sure, but she won’t believe that.”
He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with this information. Wait for Joanna to start being mean to him again? Because she was showing no signs of it.
Anyway, she was leaving. He didn’t know when. He was starting to think that she didn’t know when. Peggy was much better, and as far as he knew, she didn’t have any plans that would take her away from Halikarnassus.
Take her away from him.
And that was when he realized: When she left, it was gonna hurt. He could pretend to be holding her at arm’s length, just having fun with a really cool girl while she was around. A really cool girl who bit his head off but was a monster in the kitchen. A girl who held the world at arm’s length, but at night, when it was just them and it was dark, she told him her secrets.
If he was honest with himself, he was already way too far gone.
“I’m just saying, be patient with my girl, that’s all.”
He wanted to ask Trina to say the same thing to Joanna. To be gentle with him, or do something so he wouldn’t miss her so much.
But he didn’t. He just agreed to be patient.
“Is that why you brought me in here?” he asked.
She pointed to a cabinet above the refrigerator. “Also I need you to get that pitcher for me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
As winter approached, Joanna could no longer deny that Granny didn’t need her anymore. She still got sore if she overexerted (which was all the time), but if she didn’t walk far, she could do it without her cane. She could drive and cook and walk the dog all by herself.
But winter was coming. What if she slipped on the ice? Joanna stuck around, just to make sure.
Then it snowed.
A lot.
It was one of those weird, pre-winter storms, the kind that comes out of nowhere before the salt trucks are ready and dumps a foot of snow on the ground as if to say, ha ha, bet you weren’t expecting that.
Joanna sat at the kitchen window, nursing a hot cup of coffee, watching the snow fall.
“It’s been a while since you’ve seen that, huh?” Granny asked.
It hadn’t been that long. When you tour around the country, you see all kinds of weather. But this snow was different. This snow wasn’t getting between her and her next gig. It wasn’t snow she’d have to scrape off their crappy van or wade through to load out. It was just . . . pretty.
She wanted to enjoy the snow, dammit.
“I have your old snow boots in the hall closet,” Granny said, reading her mind.
Granny laughed at Joanna’s shocked expression. “It’s all over your face. You used to get that same look when you were little and you couldn’t wait to go outside with the other kids to build snowmen.”
“And snowball fights.”
“Yes, well. You always did have a good arm.”
Joanna stood and put her mug in the sink. She stretched her arms over her head. “Maybe I will go out. Just for a walk.”
“Could you use some company?”
“Gran, I don’t know if you should be out there in this.”
“Not me. And not Starr, she hates the snow.”
“Then who?”
Gran took a sip of her coffee.
“Gran. Jeez.”
Still, when Joanna got to her room to change into more snow-appropriate clothes, she called Liam.
“Come out and play, librarian.”
“Ah, I can’t.”
“Why not? Too afraid of a little cold?”
“Well, no. I’m at work.”
“Work? Why? Isn’t the library closed today?”
“No. I got here okay.”
“How? The roads haven’t even been plowed yet.”
“I walked.”
“Walked? Liam, that’s like four miles!”
“It’s closer to three.”
“You must have some serious snow boots.”
“Yeah. And snowshoes.”
She stopped for a moment, one leg in her leggings.
“You snowshoed to the library?”
“Yes. It was the safest way to get here.”
“You really are a Boy Scout. So, is it busy? Are you providing warmth to the masses?”
“Uh, actually, no. I’m the only one here.”
“Really?” She did not sound surprised at all.
“I’m glad you called. I was going crazy here all by myself. The good news is, I’m all caught up on my e-mail.”
“Why don’t you close now?”
“Eh, it’s fine. Closing is a whole rigmarole with the board and I don’t really want to deal with that. Besides, I’m here, so obviously I was able to get to work. There’s no real reason not to be open.”
“Except that the governor declared a state of emergency and nobody’s supposed to be out on the roads.”
“I wasn’t on the roads. Well, I was, but my car wasn’t.”
“Yes, but you’re the only idiot in town. Nobody’s coming to the library, buddy.”
She heard him sigh. Poor Liam. He worked so hard.
Poor Liam in that big ol’ building all by himself.
All by himself, with no one to keep him company.
And no one to see if his girlfriend walked over to the library and seduced him . . .
* * *
Liam’s eyes were starting to cross. Maybe putting in a full day at the library when no one else was there was not something he needed to be doing. He thought about his couch, and a fire in the fireplace, and tucking himself under a blanket with a book. Or better yet, with Joanna. Peggy’s house was sort of on the way home. He could snowshoe over and . . .
And what, throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his pink-kitchened love nest?
She would totally go for that.
Just as he was revising his plan for getting snowed in with Joanna, there was a bang from the lobby. That sounded a lot like the front door opening and closing.
Great, patrons.
Well, he had opened the library for a reason. Shelter from the storm and all that.
He blinked hard and walked out from the stacks, ready to greet his patrons with a friendly smile and swift customer service that would have them out the door quickly so he could figure out how to ravish his girlfriend.
And then, there she was.
He didn’t recognize her at first, what with the massive plaid scarf covering most of her face. But he recognized that voice.
“Holy balls, it’s cold out.”
She wiped her nose on the edge of her scarf, and he had never been so happy to see someone in his entire life. What kind of winter magic was this? He just thought about her, and she appeared.
He tried thinking about a pizza. He’d forgotten to bring lunch and he was hungry.
“Hey.” He walked over and helped her out of her coat and stepped back as she toed off her snowy boots. “Welcome to
the library!”
“Am I the only one here?”
“So far.”
She snorted. “So far. You know it’s still snowing, right?”
“Is it?” He hadn’t looked out the window in a while. He did so now.
Yup, still snowing.
“So.” She pulled off her snowy hat and tossed it on top of her snowy jacket. That was probably going to leave a wet spot on the carpet.
Oh well.
She shook her hair out, then smiled up at him. “What have you been doing with yourself ?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just getting caught up on stuff. I was just shelf reading.”
“What’s shelf reading?”
“It’s where you look at all the spine labels on the books and make sure they’re in call number order.”
She just looked at him. He thought he might have to explain it differently. Sometimes he did that, used too much library jargon to explain things to a civilian.
“That sounds terrible.”
Yup, she understood.
“It’s not great,” he said. “But it has to be done.”
“So . . . how’s it going? Anything good on the shelf?”
“The pregnancy books were totally out of order, but the rest was mostly fine.”
“Huh.”
“Well, I didn’t do the whole collection, so there might be some other problems. I just focused on the sections that are used the most.”
“You are such a nerd.”
“I know.”
“Are you ready for a break?”
“That depends. Were there hordes of patrons behind you?”
“Nope. I had the sidewalks of Halikarnassus all to myself. At least, I think I was on the sidewalks. They’re sort of buried.”
“Okay, then. I’m ready for a break.”
“Good.”
She bent down to her discarded shoulder bag and pulled out two thermoses. “Soup, and hot chocolate.”
He could kiss her.
But first, he wanted to eat.
* * *
“It’s weird how quiet it is in here.”
They’d pulled the cushions off the chairs and made a little nest for themselves near the science fiction. That way they could eat their soup—which was hearty and delicious and he still wanted to kiss her for it—and watch the snow fall.
Because the snow was still falling. A little less rapidly now, but it clearly was not done with the whole “blanketing the streets of town” thing.
“Imagine that, a quiet library,” he said.
She nudged him with her shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
He stretched out on the floor with his happily full belly. “It is nice. I mean, I don’t think the library needs to be a quiet place anymore, you know? The noise means people are using it.”
“Hmm,” she said, and he thought she was lost in the peaceful view from the window, but when he looked at her, he saw that she was looking at him.
“What? Am I being a dork?”
She shook her head. “You really love this place, don’t you?”
He wanted to tell her that he didn’t really care that much one way or the other, that he would gladly follow her anywhere. But he’d never lied to her, and he wasn’t going to start now.
“Yup.”
She sighed and looked out the window. He wanted to ask her if maybe she was changing her mind, if these few months they’d spent together had made her see that Halikarnassus wasn’t such a bad place or such a boring place. When they were together, it could be great.
But he didn’t, and when she turned back to him, she had a wicked grin on her face.
“How much do you love this place?” she asked.
“Uh.” He was confused. But that grin was doing things to his insides. Sexy things. “A lot?”
“A lot?” She got on all fours and crawled over toward him, then over him so her body surrounded his.
“Have you ever had sex in a library before?” she asked.
He gulped. He watched her eyes move to his throat and she licked her lips. No, he hadn’t had sex in a library. He couldn’t think of a more unsanitary place to have sex. Actually, yes, he could, but still. Sex in the library felt . . . well, it didn’t feel wrong. It should feel wrong, but Joanna was shaking her head, the ends of her hair tickling his face; then her hands were unbuttoning his shirt and her hair was tickling his chest.
He decided that now was not the time for an ethical quandary. Not when Joanna was reaching for his belt buckle. So he just gave himself over to the fantasy and let Joanna show him how much he could really love the library.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“First thing on the agenda is a special commendation to the Halikarnassus football team. Boys?”
The first town council meeting of the new year was usually a slog. Folks were still coming off of the holiday high, and voting on building permits was a surefire way to kill any remaining festive spirit.
This meeting was different.
Liam watched as several dozen boys of varying shapes and sizes—well, mostly big—lumbered up to the podium. Hal looked like he was vibrating with pride and glee.
Liam had been to a lot of town council meetings, and he’d heard Hal present a lot of official commendations—Girl Scouts, church choirs, war veterans. Once there was even one honoring a cat who dialed 9-1-1 when her owner was having a heart attack. (There was a minor scandal when it was discovered that the owner had, in fact, dialed the phone himself before losing consciousness.) This was definitely the most excited Liam had ever seen Hal when doing his civic duty.
“WHEREAS,” he began in a very Mayoral Voice. “the Halikarnassus High School football team represents the highest standards of sportsmanship, athleticism, hard work, and competition—”
“Except for girls’ lacrosse, which actually wins,” Doris only sort of whispered to Peggy, who was seated on the other side of Liam. Her granddaughter was on the lacrosse team. It was a big bone of contention.
“WHEREAS, the Halikarnassus High School football team surpassed the win record of any other HHS team in recent memory and achieved a spot in the New York State High School Football Tournament Quarterfinals—”
“Where they promptly lost,” Doris whispered.
“Hush, now,” Peggy whispered back.
“I’m just saying, this is a whole lot of proclamation for nothin’.”
“The boys worked hard.”
“That Dylan boy had a growth spurt. That’s not working hard.”
Liam just leaned back and let the two argue over him. He didn’t want to take away from the team’s achievement—the quarterfinals was a big deal considering they hadn’t been good enough to be invited to the tournament in years. But a good football team—which Halikarnassus High was not, but had the potential to become—meant the library’s funding could once again be in danger. This made the already painful annual budget process even more fraught. He didn’t want to suggest efficiencies since the library was already running on a bare enough budget. And he didn’t want to ask for an increase because he didn’t want to make Hal mad. And Hal would be mad if he thought Liam was trying to take any money away from his precious almost-good football team.
“NOW, THEREFORE, LET IT BE PROCLAIMED by the Honorable Mayor and the Town Council of the Town of Halikarnassus that today is Halikarnassus High School Football Day!”
A great, grunting cheer went up in the council hall. Liam clapped dutifully. The boys lined up to shake hands with the council, and there was more cheering and cell phones were clicking away their blurry photos to be posted on the town’s Facebook page later, the one that Liam had helped the council set up.
Bitterness was not going to win him points with anyone on the council, so he stood when everyone else stood. Not even the (alleged) 9-1-1-dialing cat got a standing ovation.
“We’re very proud of you boys,” Councilman Maguire said over the din. “I think this could mean some big changes for your facilities up there at t
he school, don’t you, Mayor?”
Liam looked up at the dais, where Hal was still standing, a triumphant smile on his face.
* * *
“That bad, huh?”
It was hard to feel like the situation was hopeless when Joanna’s naked body was pressed up against his, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. But he was pretty sure it was hopeless.
“Hal’s got it in for the library for some reason.”
“He’s just mad because he doesn’t read.”
“Maybe I should do some kung fu reader’s advisory on him, turn him into a reader.”
“I don’t understand half of what you just said, but I wouldn’t waste too much time trying to get Hal to change. Especially not when it involves football.”
“I don’t get it. Why can’t we have both? Why do we have to choose between sports and the library? A lot of athletes use the library.”
He felt Joanna shrug. “Hal’s always been competitive like that. He doesn’t just want to win, he wants to annihilate the competition.”
“That’s how he was in high school. You hate it when people think you’re still high school, Joanna. Maybe he’s changed.”
She propped herself up on her elbow so she was looking him in the eye. “Yes, but Hal hasn’t been getting naked with you, making him all soft.”
He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re not all soft.”
She kissed him, sweet and gentle. Maybe she was a little soft. Not all soft. He still felt she might bolt at any time. There was still a part of her that he didn’t understand.
She put her head back on his chest and resumed her lazy circles, this time on his stomach. “What are your parents like?” she asked.
Liam felt a sudden pang of guilt, remembering that he was supposed to call his mother back. But he kept getting distracted by Joanna’s sexiness, and that really didn’t put him in the mood to talk to his mother.
“They’re, I don’t know, my parents.” That painted a nice picture for her. “They got divorced when I was in middle school, and they still pretty much hate each other. They say that they keep it polite for the kids, but, well, they don’t.”
“They fight a lot?”
He wasn’t sure if his parents’ ver y communicative noncommunication could be called fighting. “More like a lot of passive-aggressive teeth gnashing. It’s pretty exhausting. Especially when the new husbands are there.”