“Alice sent me down here with some books.” She looked him straight in the eyes, not glancing into his office or around at the posters on the hallway walls.
He stared at the box in her arms, trying to remember why Alice was sending him books. He reached out and took it from her, nearly letting out a grunt at the weight. Charlie surrendered them without comment. “Would you like to sit down?”
She nodded and walked into his office. There were two cushioned office chairs across from his desk, but she chose the straight backed, wooden chair in the corner, perching on the edge of the seat as if ready to bolt at any moment.
Setting the box on the desk, Austin lifted the plastic tucked over the top and gazed at the glossy covers. Maybe Alice had been serious about her offer to let him borrow every fantasy book he wanted. He pulled out a far hardback. “Oh, I loved this series when I was a kid. Whenever they had a feast at Redwall Abbey, I got hungry. All that Shrew Bread and Mossflower Hot Pot and Strawberry Cordial and Mint Tea… See, now I’m hungry.” He set it on the desk.
Charlie considered telling him that all those recipes were online. Some fan had taken the time to list every beverage, dessert, and main course in the series. She’d never tried to make Great Hall Cake or Seaweed Grog, but she’d been tempted.
He lifted another one out and turned it over in his hand. “Mister Sharp,” he said under his breath.
Charlie let out a little noise of surprise. “You’ve read that series?”
“Yes, ma’am. Brilliant. Bovril is one of my favorite characters. I want one.”
“A perspicacious loris? But it would know all your secrets. Everyone’s secrets, actually.” She narrowed her eyes. “Probably sounds like fun to you.”
He regarded her without comment. From the first moment they’d met, Charlie had treated him as if he were barely worthy of her attention. She didn’t think much of him, that was clear. At first he’d been offended. Now that disappointment felt something like relief. His parents thought he was nearly perfect. Gideon seemed to think he could do no wrong. Tom assumed that he would never make a mistake with all the good advice floating around. As if Austin wouldn’t make the same bone-headed decisions every young guy has made throughout history. He smiled. With Charlie, he could finally be himself. Flawed, imperfect, and having not a clue how to help anybody. “Not fun at all. I have as many skeletons in the closet as the next guy.”
She wrinkled her nose as if he’d just confirmed something. “Your own or someone else’s?”
“I don’t follow you.” Did she think he worked as a counselor so he could delve into the darkest parts of the human condition? Did she think he collected secrets and used them against people?
“Nothing.” She brushed back her hood and straightened up, her cheeks flushed from the warm air in the office. “Alice sent me here because she hatched this goofcake plan. She seemed to think you’d be more likely to jump on board if I brought fantasy and science fiction books down here and we, I don’t know, bonded over all our favorite characters.” She said it without sarcasm but it was clear she considered that as likely as pigs flying.
His mama had raised him to be polite, but he decided he could be as honest as she was. “You’re harshing my buzz,” he said. “I was hoping we’d be best friends.”
She wasn’t offended. The corner of her mouth twitched. “You better wake up and smell the chickens, then. Not gonna happen.”
He took another book from the box. “You’re throwing a lot of shade for someone who hardly knows me.”
“Oh, I know your type.” She wasn’t smiling now.
“Really. And what type is that?” He examined the back of a new copy of Ender’s Game. He’d loved that book when he was a teen. He’d imagined himself leading an army and saving the planet from invading aliens. But he wasn’t Ender. He wasn’t even Ender’s shadow, Bean. Sacrifice, courage, leadership, integrity. He had none of those things.
He looked up when she didn’t answer. “Don’t worry. You won’t hurt my feelings,” he said.
“You can’t unsay a hurtful word.” She shrugged. It seemed their brief moment of honesty was over. “Anyway, Alice wanted me to ask if you thought we could have a small lending library here.”
“Library? How would we keep track of who had which books?” He dreaded paperwork and a library sure sounded like paperwork to him.
“I don’t think she really cares if you keep track, but she mentioned some sort of simple sign out sheet.”
Austin frowned down at the hardback sets. “Does she realize―”
“That they probably won’t come back? I think she’s aware of that.” Charlie smiled a little. “But once Alice gets an idea into her head, it’s best just to go along with it. Saves everyone a lot of time.”
Alice hadn’t seemed like the type to force everyone to do her will. He thought of her concern over Charlie’s change in behavior, her silence, her decision to leave college. Maybe the lending library wasn’t about books after all. Maybe it was about getting Charlie into his office where he could gently help her solve all her problems. Austin wanted to drop the book into the box and hand the mess back. He had developed a reputation for being able to help people but all he really did was nod his head until they figured out what they needed to do on their own. Alice was probably expecting Charlie to come back changed, ready to open up about whatever was bothering her.
“I told her it probably wouldn’t work,” Charlie said. She stood up and walked toward the desk. “These kids wouldn’t know a good book if it hit them in the head.”
Her dismissive words rubbed him wrong. “You met any of these kids?”
“Nope. And I don’t want to. I have enough trouble of my own.” Her mouth was a thin line. She looked fierce in the way beautiful girls did when they were scared but trying hard not to show it.
This was the moment he should ask what trouble she meant, or ask her to sit down and let him see if he could help. Instead he started taking all the books from the box and stacking them on his desk. So Charlie had trouble. So did everybody else. And her attitude was the reason most of these kids wouldn’t be able to find a job when they were done with their employment and counseling programs. Nobody wanted to give them a second chance. One wrong turn and they were marked forever as a lost cause. “Tell Alice that I’ll need a few more boxes if she’s serious about this project.”
“Huh.” She crossed her arms. “You remind me of Father Tom. He’s your brother, right?”
“Shouldn’t judge folks by their relatives,” he said and handed her the empty box.
“Father Tom thinks everybody is just one step away from sainthood. You probably think these delinquents just got a bad break and they’re really good people deep down.”
“No, ma’am. I don’t sit around worrying about who’s good and who’s not. That’s not my job. I just try to listen and see if I can help.”
“You think you can fix everything? They tell you their problems and you give them, what, five steps to success? Ten ways to build a better life?” Her tone was flat but her eyes were sparking with anger.
She thought he was a fraud and for the first time, he didn’t have to pretend. “Know what?” he asked.
“What?” She crossed her arms and stared back at him, clearly aware something unpleasant was about to go down between them. As much as he liked Alice, he couldn’t let Charlie’s words pass without comment.
“They tell me their story. They go back months, years, to things that mean everything to them and nothing to me. It can take hours and hours to get up to the moment they decided to break the law and ended up in jail. Most of the time, they’re trying convince me and themselves that they were right all along, that the police are jerks, and they never should have been put in prison. All I do is sit in my chair and listen while they spin the past into something they like better.”
Her eyes had widened. “And you’re okay with that.”
“I don’t have a choice. I can’t force someone to take
responsibility.” He caught himself waving his hands. “Everybody does it. You do it. I do it. None of us want to look at why things went bad and how we created the mess we’re in. We want everyone to feel sorry for us and tell us that we’re completely innocent.”
“So, when something happens, it’s usually our own fault?”
“Yes. Somewhere, way back when, we started the whole shebang rolling.”
She was shaking her head. “I can’t imagine how you help anybody if you think every victim should be blamed for what happened to them.” Her voice was tight and hard. “I was right about you. Born on third base.”
“What?” He felt like she’d missed his meaning completely. These kids weren’t victims. They were criminals. It was true some were born into the worst kind of circumstances but they were still criminals, at least in a legal sense. Somehow in the conversation, they’d managed to switch sides of the argument and now had completely wandered from the point he’d been trying to make.
“Nothing. Just that you’re typical of so many guys I know. You get everything handed to you and people who don’t get the same silver spoon at birth are just lazy or don’t make good decisions.”
“No, that’s not what I was trying―”
“My daddy says if you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty. I never really thought about that saying until something bad happened to me and then it seemed like the whole world just assumed I’d been wallowing with pigs.” Her eyes glinted with tears. “Maybe I didn’t even know I was in the pigpen. I guess that makes me stupid. But taking responsibility doesn’t change anything, does it? I’m standing here admitting I was completely naïve and it makes not a bit of difference.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek and he felt his heart drop. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that―”
She swiped at her face and shifted the box. “Never mind,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” She didn’t look him in the eye. “I’ll let Alice know that you need more books.” And with that, she turned and left his office.
Austin stood there for several minutes, searching the conversation for some clue as to what had gone wrong. She didn’t like him and that had been clear from the very beginning. But somewhere the little shots across the bow had turned into a full-blown disagreement rooted in a misunderstanding he still couldn’t quite grasp.
Sinking into his chair, he dropped his head in his hands. He managed to get through his day by letting everyone else do the talking. By some miracle, his boss seemed to think he did a good job and the kids liked him well enough. Sometimes they even made good decisions after going to counseling. Deep down, he really didn’t have any idea what he was doing and until today, he’d kept it a secret.
Charlie had known from the moment she clapped eyes on him that he was a fraud. And now, after he opened his mouth and blurted out his frustrations, she thought he was arrogant and entitled, too.
Sitting up, he slowly stacked the books in a pile to the left of his papers. He would have to apologize. She probably wouldn’t want to hear it but he would try anyway. Somehow she got the idea that he believed he was better than everybody else. Nothing could be farther from the truth.
Chapter Five
Give a little love to a child and you get a great deal back.
― Ruskin
Charlie stepped into By the Book and slowly stripped off her sweatshirt, trying not to think of how the station attendant had laughed in her face when she’d asked for a gallon of gas. It was better to sell the car but then someone might start asking questions she couldn’t answer.
The rain was tapering off but the walk from the back parking lot to the front of the store was still long enough to get a little bit wetter. Drops clung to the ends of her hair and her shoes made squishing sounds as she hung up the sweatshirt on an old iron coat rack. It sagged on the hook, the pocket heavy with the small packet of PopTarts she’d bought at the store. It wasn’t the kind of food she ate but it was cheap and she hadn’t eaten anything since early that morning. She’d have the Poptarts for lunch and a cup of ramen noodles for dinner. She tried not to think about breakfast.
“How did it go?” Alice stood up, a sleeping Aurora cradled in her arms. The little girl must have spit up on herself because she sported a new gray shirt with an embroidered black raven and the word “nevermore”.
“Great.” Except for the part where they called each other names, she started crying and then stomped out. She turned and walked around the desk, not meeting Alice’s gaze. “He says he needs more books.”
“Wonderful! Did he say how many? Two boxes? Three? We should order multiples of the most popular. We can have them here by next week. What did Cora say? I wasn’t sure if the director would be interested in another project. They already have so much to handle down there, but Gideon thought it was a good idea and said it couldn’t hurt to ask.” Alice was so excited she wasn’t hardly pausing for breath. “Did he like your selections? Tell him that he can pick out books, too. He really seems like he reads everything, from turn of the century to modern. Do you guys like the same books? I bet you do. You two are so similar.”
Charlie turned around. “We’re not, actually. Not at all. And I think it would be better if you told him all of this. There’s no reason for me to be part of this project.”
For the first time, Alice seemed to notice her swollen eyes. “What happened, sha? Did you two have a misunderstanding?”
Trying to understand Austin was the very least of her worries. Charlie stared down at the desk and wished for the thousandth time that Alice wasn’t married to Paul, and that Paul didn’t own ScreenStop, and that Charlie hadn’t written a virus that almost wiped out his company. Alice had been one of her closest friends. She missed talking to her and sharing everything that was in her heart. She was so tired of being alone, of trying to figure everything out by herself. Her car was out of gas, there was no food in her fridge, she couldn’t find a second job, and her rent was due. She couldn’t ask Alice, or anyone else, for help. They would ask questions she didn’t want to answer. She couldn’t change what had happened. There was nothing to do but keep going.
“No, sorry, Miss Alice. He just rubs me the wrong way.” She looked up and tried to smile. “And the rain always makes me sad. Just feeling emotional, I guess.”
Alice seemed like she was going to ask another question but instead she walked forward and placed sleeping Aurora in Charlie’s arms. “Babies should be classified as antidepressants. Sit down. Hold her for a while. Try not to think about anything.” She pressed a kiss to Aurora’s forehead and the baby let out a sigh in her sleep. “When I feel overwhelmed, I focus on one thing, like her little ear. It’s miraculous, when you really spend the time to look at it. So perfectly formed, every little bit. I’ll get you a cup of coffee.” She waved a hand. “Go. Sit.”
She started to say that sitting with Aurora wasn’t going to change anything, but she realized how weary she felt. Having a quiet break sounded pretty nice, actually. Alice walked to the back of the store where they kept the coffee maker and Charlie headed for the old red armchair by the front window. Carefully settling in, she adjusted the blanket so Aurora’s little socks were covered. The baby felt warm and substantial in her arms. After a few minutes, the smell of fresh coffee wafted toward her. The rain had slowed but the sidewalk was still clear of pedestrian and further past the grass covered banks, she could see Cane River flowing by. The ache in her chest started to ease. It suddenly occurred to Charlie how long it had been since she’d hugged anyone. Or even touched anyone. She tightened her arms around Aurora. The bookstore was silent except for the soft sound of the rain outside and Alice’s footsteps near the back of store.
Charlie let her gaze wander along the wooden benches, dark with rain. Her heart rate slowed. She still didn’t have enough money for gas or anything in her fridge, but Alice was right. Babies made everything better. She leaned down and inhaled deeply. Strawberries. Her stomach let out a growl and she remembered
the package of PopTarts in her sweatshirt pocket. She was too relaxed to move but eventually the gnawing hunger convinced her to wiggle out of the comfortable red chair, cross to where her sweatshirt hung, and retrieve the silver packet single-handedly.
As she lowered herself back in the chair, Aurora let out a sigh and Charlie froze. If it was a question of eating lunch or waking the baby, she’d just go hungry, but after a while the little girl settled back into a deep sleep. It took a few minutes and a bit of contorting but she eventually opened the foil package. She had eaten PopTarts a few times in her life, mostly while traveling with friends. It wasn’t the kind of food she craved. At the store, it seemed the two cheapest choices were salty junk food or sweet junk food. Maybe apples and pears would cost less in the summer. She didn’t know. She’d never bothered to notice. Her whole life she’d walked into a grocery store and bought whatever she wanted, not really looking at the final tally.
The first sweet pastry went fast and although it was dense, her stomach still felt hollow. She nibbled the next. Dinner was hours away. An image of the gas gauge popped into her mind. It was a newer car but even with good mileage she probably only had a few trips home and back left in the tank. If only she’d rented an apartment closer to bookstore, but the Cane River Riverwalk area was premium real estate. Austin must have a nice salary to pay for the spacious rooms above By the Book. The apartments anywhere within walking distance were out of her budget. Actually, her current apartment was out of her budget, even across the river near the industrial area and as dingy as it was.
She stared down at the half-eaten pastry. The chemical smell of the cherry filling made her stomach turn.
“Oh, sha, that’s the look I get on my face when I eat junk food, too.” Ruby was standing a few feet away, her eyes twinkling with laughter. “It all sounds so good and then after a few bites, I realize my mama had it right. We need to stick to the food our people cook. Jambalaya, gumbo, meat pies, greens, biscuits and gravy, the like.”
Only Through Love: A Cane River Romance Novella Page 4