by Sarah Title
“Tell me what?” Liam asked, a sense of dread creeping down his spine and cementing him to his chair.
“It’s just that the boys have worked so hard, and we want to reward them. And I think you’ll agree that more people come to football games than come to the library.”
“I wouldn’t agree with that, no.” In fact, it would be a pretty easy thing to disprove. Aside from the fact that the library was open year-round, Liam was pretty sure his average door counts would be higher than attendance at a regular season football game.
At least, it had been. Now that the team had gotten good-ish, Liam wouldn’t bet his budget on that.
“I just think in the spirit of doing what’s best for the community, we’re going to go ahead with the stadium construction project.”
Now it was a stadium? “You mean the lights?”
“The lights, for starters. I’m thinking about a state-of-the art venue that can be used year-round. The best technology, the best facilities, everything our boys deserve.”
“And girls.”
“Huh?”
“Surely a year-round sports facility would involve some of the girls’ sports.”
“Yeah, yeah, fine. The point is, money doesn’t grow on trees.”
“No . . .”
“But paper does. And you know what’s made out of paper?”
“Money?”
“Books!”
Liam wished he was holding a pencil so that he could break it in half. But then Hal would probably cut his supply budget because now he had two pencils.
“We also have CDs and DVDs and other—”
“I’m just here as a professional courtesy, that’s all. Tonight we’re having a special session where we’ll hear public opinions, then we’ll vote.”
“Voting on rearranging the budget that the council already passed?” Tonight? Could he rally enough people to come support the library by tonight?
Yes, of course he could. He just had to activate the gossip train of Halikarnassus.
He wished Hal would leave so he could start making phone calls.
“There is one thing . . .”
Oh, God. Liam didn’t think he could take one more thing.
“I might be persuaded to . . . postpone the vote.”
“Postpone it? What, like, give me another day?” Liam couldn’t help the sarcasm that crept into his voice. Because he couldn’t imagine what he could give Hal that could compel the man to give up his dream of a useless football stadium in Halikarnassus.
“It’s this band of your girlfriend’s.”
“What does Delicious Lies have to do with the town budget?” If he was going to ask them to play a special show, maybe he could beg Joanna to do it. If he begged really, really hard.
“My wife has been spending an awful lot of time with that band.”
“Sure. I mean, she’s in it, right?”
“Big, I’m gonna level with you. I love this town and I love my job, I really do. But I’ve got my eye on bigger fish. I’m talking Albany, I’m talking DC. And I don’t think performing in this lunatic band with a psycho bitch—no offense to you and your taste in women—is the right image for a future First Lady, you know?”
Liam took a moment to imagine a country where Hal was the president. It did not compute, so he focused on the matter at hand.
“So . . . you want me to talk to Kristin?” They were friends, sure, but he really didn’t think he’d be comfortable with that. Of course, if it meant securing library funding, he could certainly try.
“No, no. I’ve tried that. Talking doesn’t work. I need action.”
“Uh . . .”
“I need you to get your girlfriend to cancel the gig.”
The gig. The one the three of them had been looking forward to with such anxiety and excitement. The one that Joanna couldn’t stop talking about, and the one that was keeping her in Halikarnassus.
Basically, Hal wanted him to choose between the library and Joanna.
And by the smug look on his face, the bastard knew exactly what he was doing.
That made him want to punch Hal. Again.
Instead, he took a step back. This was the budget of the library. This was people’s salaries and the life of the center of the community. Maybe Joanna would do this as a favor.
God, he hated that he was even thinking that. If he gave Hal this inch, who knew what kind of mile he would be after next?
But he had to try.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, and as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew he wouldn’t. Canceling one show was not going to make Hal give up his dream. But at least it might buy Liam some time until he could figure out something better to do. Maybe Hal would postpone the council’s vote. Maybe he’d give them another year’s reprieve.
“Good man,” said Hal. He stood up, shook Liam’s hand. “I know you’ll do the right thing. Oh, hi, Joanna. Didn’t see you there.”
Liam looked up at his doorway and, yup, there was his aforementioned girlfriend, the one who was a bad influence on the mayor’s wife.
And she looked pissed.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Joanna! Wait!”
Joanna heard Liam running behind her, but she didn’t slow her pace. But even with her head start, he caught up to her. Him and his stupid long legs.
“Joanna,” he said, but she didn’t stop. He grabbed her arm and turned her, but she shook him off, hard.
He held his hands up. “Joanna, I don’t know what you heard . . .”
“Oh, I heard plenty. You’re going to sell me out to your new friend, Hal.”
“That’s not what—”
“What, you’re not going to ask me to cancel the show? You’re gonna let the library go down in flames for a stupid rock band? That’s pretty dumb, Liam.”
“No, of course I wasn’t—”
“Don’t touch me!” She knew she was making a scene, and right outside the library. But she couldn’t help it. If he touched her, she would forgive him, and if she forgave him, he’d just dump her at the next big opportunity.
“I heard what you said,” she shouted. She shouldn’t be shouting. There were kids in the parking lot. Parents watching with interest. If she wasn’t driving Granny’s car, she would hop in and drive off, but no matter how comfortable she was driving it, there was no way she was zooming anywhere in that thing. Not with other people in the parking lot.
Although maybe she could run over Liam. Just a little. Just so he could feel how it hurt.
“I didn’t say—”
“Don’t lie to me! I heard you say you would think about it.”
“I didn’t mean that! I wasn’t going to ask you to cancel the show. That’s ridiculous. That’s not how this whole process works. I was just buying time. I thought if—”
“I don’t believe you. I think you had a split second to choose between me and the library, and you didn’t choose me.”
“Joanna, that’s not fair.”
“Don’t tell me what’s not fair! What’s not fair is always coming in second, is everyone having a perfectly reasonable explanation for why they’re screwing me over!”
“Please, just calm down.”
“Don’t you be all reasonable with me! I know you had to do it. Of course you’d make that choice. But don’t come after me, all reasonable and shit, and expect me to like it!”
“I don’t think you understand—”
“Oh, I understand.” She stepped up to him, put her finger in his face. She hated when people put their finger in her face when she was arguing, but she did it anyway. “You get it both ways, don’t you? You get your stupid library, and you got me. Well, I’m not going to let you use me like that.”
“Use you? How am I using you?”
She could see that she was finally getting under his skin. Good. It almost made her feel calmer.
Almost.
“What could I possibly be using you for?” he shouted.
&nbs
p; And now she was totally calm. Dead calm. Her heart was a stone. It could not be broken.
“Wait, hold on,” he pleaded. “That came out wrong.”
She wanted to say one more thing, throw something in his face before she turned and walked away. But she didn’t have anything. He was right. She was nothing to him, just a warm body and a pleasant diversion while she bided her time in this shitty place.
So she didn’t say anything. She just got in the car, slammed the door. But there were too many people around, so she got out again. She slammed the door again. And she marched across the library lawn.
“What about your car?” she heard him ask, but she just gave him the finger and stomped toward home.
* * *
“Well, you’re certainly in a mood.”
How very astute of Granny to notice, Joanna thought, as she stomped into her bedroom and slammed the door. The force knocked over a pile of CDs. She kicked them.
She knew she was being childish. But she was just so pissed off. Pissed at Liam, yes, but she couldn’t really blame him. One show for a not-ver y-good band at a bar they could play at any time, versus half the funding for the entire library. She knew she was being stupid. She shouldn’t feel angry or hurt. But she did, and that made her even angrier.
It was that same thing all over again. Liam, and Bunny Slippers, and her parents. Why was the right thing to do always the thing that involved shitting on her?
Someone knocked on her door. Granny, obviously. Unless Liam ran those stupid runner legs over here. And Granny would let him in. She loved Liam. She would choose Liam over Joanna.
“Sweetie?”
That was definitely Granny. Liam would never call her sweetie. He’d called her baby a few times, but not in public, and not in a context that was at all similar to this situation.
Good thing she hadn’t gotten used to it, because she wasn’t going to hear it again.
The doorknob turned—so at least she hadn’t broken the door when she slammed it—and Starr bolted in and made a beeline for her pillow. Granny followed, limping just a little bit.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“No.” Joanna crossed her arms over her chest. Well, if she was going to throw a temper tantrum, might as well go all the way.
“Is it the girls? Are you having a problem with the band?”
“What? No, no, the band is fine.”
“Good. I’m looking forward to that show tonight.”
“You’re going to the show?”
“Of course I am! I was at the first Delicious Lies show when you were in high school. I plan on being at the revival.”
At least she had Granny.
Then she remembered what Hal had said, about the council meeting being tonight. Granny would want to be there. Granny should be there. It was the right thing to do.
Again.
Granny sighed, and Joanna was once again convinced that her grandmother was a mind reader.
“When you came to live with me, do you remember that?”
Joanna nodded. Of course she did.
“At first it made you so happy, when you used to visit me in the summers.”
“Your cookies were better than Mom’s.” Granny wasn’t the best baker around, but at least she didn’t use vegan carob chips in her cookies.
Granny laughed. “You were so skinny. I was happy to fatten you up a little.”
“Thanks, Gran.”
“Then one month turned into two, then the summer was almost over, and it became clear that your parents weren’t coming back. I think you knew before I did. You were so angry.”
Joanna remembered that, too. Remembered telling Granny that she didn’t do things like her mom did, that she didn’t read stories like her dad did. Remembered this force inside her, pushing to get out, and she just wanted to fight everyone.
“Here’s what I don’t think you understand. I wanted you from the moment you were born. You were my precious grandbaby. Of course I knew I couldn’t have you, I couldn’t take you from your parents. But I wanted to. And then they left you, and part of me was glad.” She wiped the corners of her eyes. Joanna looked away. She wasn’t going to be able to stay mad if Granny was crying. “And then they died and I thought, is this my fault? Did I somehow will this because I wanted you so badly?”
“What? Granny, no. No, of course not.”
“I know that. Of course I do, it makes no sense.” She was really crying now, and Joanna could feel the lump in her throat. But she knelt down in front of Granny anyway. “I think I just needed someplace to put my feelings until I could deal with them properly. That’s why I got you guitar lessons, you know. I thought it would be a good outlet for you.”
“It was. It is. Thank you.”
“But I wonder if it isn’t good enough, because I don’t think you understand. Your parents left you, yes, but I didn’t take care of you because I had to, dammit!” Joanna sat back because Granny was crying and yelling and she wasn’t really sure what to do with that. “I did it because I love you! You are the most precious thing in the world to me, and to see you holding on to that hurt your parents caused you . . . did I not love you enough?”
“What, Granny, no. No, of course not. I always knew that you loved me.”
Granny wiped her eyes and let out a watery chuckle. “Sorry. I know you did. I know you know I did the best I could, though you sorely tested me. I just . . . I sometimes feel a little sorry for myself, you know?”
Joanna sighed. “Yeah, I know a little bit about that.”
“So please, whatever is wrong, don’t bottle it up. Don’t take it out on people who don’t deserve it.”
Joanna hung her head. “I won’t,” she promised, even though it was already too late. But maybe she could fix it. She’d have to apologize to Liam. And she’d have to . . .
The house phone rang, and Granny got up to answer. Joanna heard her talking from the living room. “Oh, Liam, how nice of you . . . what? Well, all right, I’ll see if she wants to talk to you.”
Joanna panicked. She wasn’t ready. She had to be sure of what she said because she didn’t want to mess it up. Then a car honked from the driveway, and it was Trina in her badass truck, to pick her up for the gig. Shit, it was all happening too fast. What was she going to do, walk off the stage? Not again, she couldn’t do that again. She needed to stop and figure it out. But Trina honked another time and she heard Granny coming down the hall with the phone, and she just grabbed Rosetta and brushed past her and got in the truck with Trina.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Kristin rushed toward the stage, bass in hand, and squatted down to unpack it. “I had to find a sitter at the last minute. Hal said he had a ‘thing.’ I don’t know what kind of thing it was, but it was clearly more important than paying five dollars to see us blow the roof off this place.”
Joanna knew what the thing was. It was the council meeting, the one that Hal said he would cancel if they would cancel their gig. The one that would decide the fate of the library.
No, that was too optimistic. The one that was going to put the nail in the library’s coffin.
And on Liam and Joanna.
She shook her hands out, trying to get them steady. Her hands never shook before a show. She was never that nervous, just antsy to get on stage and start playing.
She looked out over the tables around Chet’s. From the tiny stage, with the lights in her eyes, it looked like they were all full. She saw Rick in the front row, his phone poised to take video. She saw Gus serving people at the bar, stopping to give her a wave. She saw Phyllis, of all people, chatting up the sound guy who was trying to do Kristin’s mic check.
The last time she’d been on a stage, it had been in front of thousands of people, and it was all wrong. This time, there were maybe a hundred.
It was still wrong.
“I can’t believe he’s not coming,” Kristin said. “I mean, I know he
doesn’t like this whole music thing, but it’s important to me, you know?”
Joanna knew. Joanna knew how important music was, to Kristin and to Trina and to her. She also knew what it was like to choose between two important somethings.
“Hey, Joanna, you all right?” Trina asked from behind the drum set.
“Yeah,” she said, even though she wasn’t. But they’d just play the gig, and then she’d sort it out.
“You don’t look all right.”
“I’m fine! Let’s just do this. Are you ready, Kristin?”
“Hold on. Band selfie!” She grabbed Joanna and held her phone out at arm’s length. “Oh, that one’s terrible. Joanna, can you smile? Come on, one more time.”
She held out the phone again. This time, Joanna smiled.
“Yikes. Can you smile like you’re happy?”
“Kristin,” Trina said. “We can take selfies after.”
“Okay, okay! I’m too excited.” She bounced up and down a few times on the balls of her feet. “I’m ready. Are you ready?”
“I’m ready,” said Trina. “Joanna?”
“I’m ready,” she said without thinking.
Trina counted off and they slammed into the rhythm, the noise loud enough to drown out the shouts of the crowd.
But not loud enough to drown out Joanna’s thoughts.
If she waited until after, the deed would be done. The library would be gutted . . . and Liam. What if Liam left town for a better job? That shouldn’t matter, right? Because she was leaving, too. She was going to call Mandy tonight and tell her.
“Joanna!” Kristin’s urgent whisper broke into her thoughts. Joanna realized that she had stopped playing. And that everyone was staring at her.
“She’s gonna do it again!” someone shouted from the crowd.
“No, I’m fine.” She looked at Trina. “Sorry. Can we start again?”
Trina rolled her eyes, but she counted off again.
For a few seconds, Joanna got lost in the music. It was like it always had been, nothing but her and the vibrations of Rosetta. Nothing could replace this. Nothing was better than this.
But some things were just as good. Liam, when he held her close and called her baby. When he dorked out about giving a kid some book he’d read when he was younger. When they argued about what the perfect record was for a Sunday afternoon. When he loved her.