Overdue

by Elizabeth Spann Craig

  I stared helplessly at her. Was I about to be hit with both barrels? Fixed up on a blind date and asked to join the homeowner association board? Would this conversation never end?

  Zelda apparently decided to leave well enough alone. “Kevin is a wonderful boy. I want him to have the perfect visit to Whitby.”

  Now I felt a slight tingling of relief. “Kevin’s not a permanent resident, then? Not a recent transfer?” Kevin would be leaving again. Excellent.

  Zelda arched her eyebrows at me. “That remains to be seen.”

  I frowned at her.

  Zelda sighed and briskly continued, “I believe Kevin is using this trip as a sort of reconnaissance mission. He’ll come to Whitby, see what a pleasant town it is, have some enjoyable experiences, eat my wonderful cooking, and then decide to settle down here. Frankly, I could use the extra help every now and then with lifting things or cutting back bushes. And, of course, he’s my favorite nephew.” She gave me an arch look. “Perhaps he’ll even be willing to help out with the homeowner association board. We must get younger people involved.”

  I glanced over at the mayor to see if he needed any help. Or wrangling. However, and very unfortunately, he appeared to be holding his own with no problem at all and was laughing merrily with a constituent who appeared to be telling him quite the fishing story.

  Zelda intoned, “Think what will happen if the current trustees are unable to serve. There are any number of reasons why that might happen. Illness! Injury! Sudden and unexpected demise! The next thing you know, people in the neighborhood might let all of our carefully-crafted rules fly out the window. They might paint their houses purple or pink. They might throw raucous parties. They might allow farm animals to traipse through their front yards.”

  I glanced away again, more desperately this time. I saw Luna walking by the community room and realized she was likely trying to gauge when she might be able to use the room to set up for her next storytime, which was directly following the one that just wrapped up. I gave her a panicked look and she grinned at me and headed over.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said looking as chastened as she could. “Could I please borrow Ann for a few minutes? I need her help with something.”

  Zelda, fortunately for me, didn’t spend very much time in the library and apparently hadn’t met our colorful new employee. I wasn’t sure if it was Luna’s purple hair, her tattoos, or her piercings that startled Zelda, but I was grateful for the stunned silence Luna’s appearance created.

  “Zelda, it was good speaking to you,” I said smoothly as I maneuvered myself away and marveled at my ability to fib.

  “I’ll call you to set up a time,” she responded, suddenly regaining her voice.

  I turned back around. “A time?”

  “For Kevin to call you,” said Zelda, rolling her eyes over my apparent forgetfulness. “I do have your number.”

  I wasn’t sure exactly how she’d gotten it, but I supposed homeowner association presidents had their methods.

  Chapter Eight

  I followed Luna out of the community room and leaned against one of the bookcases in the children’s area outside it. “Thanks, Luna. I owe you.”

  “Homeowner association again, I presume,” said Luna with a chuckle.

  “Even worse. Homeowner association and a blind date with a visiting nephew named Kevin,” I said, suddenly feeling very sorry for myself. I had been on many, many blind dates. They never seemed to go well. One of them in particular had gone horribly wrong.

  “Glad I could rescue you,” said Luna with a wink. She glanced at her watch. “Ugh. I guess we’ll have to have storytime somewhere else.”

  A dry voice behind us answered, “Sorry. When Howard gets chatty, it can take a while.”

  We whirled around to see the mayor’s wife, Tanya. She was tall and very thin with a sort of horsey, patrician bearing. As usual, she was very elegantly dressed with a silk blouse and linen skirt. I remembered she was considered ‘old money’ in Whitby and the large house the couple lived in was her family home.

  Luna quickly said, “Oh, that’s all right. With the really little guys, it’s a good idea to shake storytime up. For the moms, too. Sometimes they haven’t had enough coffee to stay awake. A change of location may make them more alert.”

  Tanya gave her a thin smile. “I’m sure that’s true.” Her voice said she couldn’t possibly care.

  Luna glanced at the clock and cheerfully said, “Time to read to the munchkins. Excuse me, please.” She headed off toward a group of young children, but cast me a woeful look that said she hoped she hadn’t upset yet another member of the library board.

  I put on my best smile for our trustee. “There’s lots of food still in the room. Would you like me to make a plate for you and bring it out here?”

  Tanya raised an eyebrow in recognition and said, “Thanks, but no. I’m trying to stay away from carbs and sugar.”

  It appeared she’d quite successfully done so, and for quite some time. She was as thin as a rail.

  I was about to excuse myself and find some shelving to do until the mayor’s event was over when Tanya unexpectedly spoke again. “You’re the one who discovered her, aren’t you? Carmen?”

  I nodded. “Yes,” I said quietly. I glanced around, making sure none of the little ones getting ready for storytime were in the vicinity. If Tanya was about to question me about Carmen, it wasn’t the type of story the children needed to be hearing. Fortunately, they were all busy with the picture books on the other end of the room.

  She nodded back, thoughtfully. “I thought so. Such a pity.” Her face reflected a different opinion than her words had.

  I said carefully, “It was a tragedy. I suppose you knew Carmen well, being on the board together?”

  Tanya gave a careless shrug. “I wouldn’t say that. No, I wouldn’t say that at all. Did anyone really know her well? She could be very cagey. Of course, we did serve on the library board and Friends of the Library together. I feel quite guilty about the fact she was gathering books for the Friends sale when she perished.” Her face, again, contradicted her statement. “I couldn’t make it to help her, you see.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that and was still mulling over options when she continued. “She was very driven, very organized. I really don’t know what the library will do without her. I’m sure there will be a void in leadership. Howard and I were shocked when we heard the news,” she added drolly.

  “It must have been a terrible surprise,” I offered. “It’s terrible when someone really young dies.”

  Tanya sat down on a bay window seat and stretched her long legs out. “Yes, yes it is. Very unnatural. Howard and I were at home when we heard the news and we both said much the same thing. That it was a shock and so awful. You know, when young people die.” Again, her carefully-modulated voice didn’t reveal any emotion whatsoever.

  But there was something else I’d noticed. “You and your husband were at home?” I repeated.

  “That’s right,” said Tanya. “It’s been something of an adjustment lately. Howard has started this new routine where he works from home in the mornings and then is in the town hall office during the afternoons. At first I thought he was doing it simply to annoy me.” This with an unexpected trilling laugh. “I considered the house my own personal territory in the mornings and had my own routine of exercising, puttering around the yard, and reading. It was something of an invasion when he changed his own daily routine.”

  “I can imagine that it would be,” I said slowly, still considering the implications of Howard being at home with Tanya and not out of town, as he’d stated.

  “Then he told me he felt he got more accomplished in a few minutes at home than he did in the office for hours. Apparently, lots of people drop in on him at the office.” Tanya gave an expressive shrug indicating these people were somewhere below the level of local yokels.

  “I’m sure it’s meant a big shift for you and your own routines.”
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  Tanya seemed to appreciate the sympathy. She said, “It has been, but it’s worked out all right once I realized things were going to change for good. Now we take the dog for a walk together, eat breakfast together while answering emails and reading the paper, and then get some work done before Howard heads out the door. That’s when someone called me about Carmen.” She shook her head, whether over Carmen’s fate or bothersome phone calls, I wasn’t entirely sure. She frowned. “Actually, I believe I forgot to pass the message along to Howard.”

  I said, “Well, the police certainly seem to be on the case. I’m sure they’ll get to the bottom of everything soon.”

  Tanya raised her finely-plucked eyebrows again. “Indeed? So it’s as I heard? Murder?”

  “I’m afraid so. The police have determined her fall wasn’t an accident.”

  “Mercy,” said Tanya, without inflection. “I wonder who could have done such a thing?”

  “I wish I knew,” I said, hoping maybe Tanya would offer some thoughts on Carmen’s possible enemies. Or something helpful.

  “And I haven’t the faintest idea,” she said, reaching into her tiny, expensive purse and pulling out her iPhone. The conversation was clearly over.

  A few minutes later, the mayor’s event was over. I went inside to clean up as the mayor walked out of the room, still talking to one of his constituents in a jolly tone. Fortunately, everyone who’d attended the event had been scrupulous about tidiness and besides removing the trash, there wasn’t much to do, except attend to the leftover food.

  The mayor, before leaving, stuck his head back in the room. If nothing else, he was always very polite. “Thanks for all your help with Muffins with the Mayor,” he said earnestly. “Please feel free to take any of the leftover food and beverages to the breakroom for the staff to enjoy later, if you’d like.”

  I knew Wilson liked a customary shot of sugar with his lunch, so I nodded, smiling, at Howard. “I’ll do that. Thanks.”

  I wiped the few crumbs that were on the serving table off into my hand and glanced up again, surprised the mayor was still there. “I’m sorry. Can I help you with anything? Are you on the calendar for the next event?”

  He shook his head and said, “Oh, that’s already been taken care of, thanks. No, but there was something I wanted to clarify. I’m afraid I misspoke earlier.”

  Howard really was a politician. And was apparently taking notes from some of the best in terms of his careful word-crafting. “Oh? I didn’t realize,” I said. Although I did. And I strongly suspected he’d spoken briefly with his wife after he’d stepped out of the room.

  He cleared his throat and looked briefly away before looking back at me, eyes very direct. “That’s right. I don’t know what I was thinking of. It’s been very busy lately, you see, and I think I’m getting my days mixed up. Actually, it was Tanya who reminded me we weren’t out of town when poor Carmen fell. No, we were at home.”

  “I see” I nodded. “It can be easy to get days confused, can’t it?”

  The mayor slumped just a bit in relief and nodded eagerly. “Can’t it? And life has been very different lately. I’m working from home in the mornings now. It’s amazing how much more I can get accomplished there. At the town hall, I’m always dodging phone calls and drop-in visits.”

  “That’s great,” I said lightly. “And somewhat counterintuitive. I’d think working from home would be very distracting.”

  Howard chuckled. “Well, I’m a very disciplined person. The trick, you see, is simply to allow yourself to be distracted, but only at specific times and intervals. As a reward, of sorts. So I’ll sit down and work on emails for thirty minutes, then I’ll reward myself by checking social media or getting a snack or petting the dog.”

  I could see Howard was the mansplaining type, for sure. I made a point of smiling and nodding as if I was taking it all in. Wilson, I felt, owed me for my obsequiousness. I was starting to feel like Dickens’s Uriah Heep.

  “Sounds like a good way to stay productive,” I said.

  “For sure. You should give it a try some time,” he said.

  I successfully resisted the urge to point out I couldn’t very well do much of my library work from home, unless it consisted of research.

  “Well, better run. Thanks again for your help and do take that food to the breakroom. Can I give you a hand with it?” he quickly asked in the tone of someone who’s expecting a refusal.

  “I’ve got it, but thanks,” I replied with the obligatory response.

  A few minutes later, I was stacking up the boxes of muffins when I heard what sounded like an angry conversation below the cracked window of the community room. When I glanced through the window, Howard was angrily barking at Tanya, who looked as unflappable and icy as usual. I couldn’t make out the words, but one thing was clear—this was the second time in the last hour or so that I’d heard Howard James lose his temper.

  Chapter Nine

  Dear Fitz,

  My employer doesn’t seem to trust me to do a good job. But if he doesn’t give me a chance, how can I prove I’m worthy of trust?

  Signed,

  Frustrated

  Dear Frustrated,

  Just make sure you’re the purrfect employee! Be on time and make sure you’re not the first to leave. Volunteer for tasks no one wants to do. If nothing changes, schedule a meeting to talk about your concerns. Good luck! For further reading, I dug up some articles on having productive conversations with employers—check out the links below.

  Your Friend,

  Fitz

  A few minutes later, I was putting a tray of muffins and doughnuts into the breakroom. Luna poked her head in, fresh from her storytime, and groaned when she saw it.

  “I look at that tray and you know what I see?” she asked.

  I shook my head with a grin.

  “Sabotage,” she answered. “Did I tell you I’m on a diet? My mom and I both are. I swear I don’t know how the weight has just hopped right on me since I moved here. When I was in New York, I was always the same weight.” She stared gloomily at the muffins.

  “I’d blame the mayor, except he only has his Muffins with the Mayor event once a month,” I said lightly. “Anyway, I don’t see that you’ve gained any weight.”

  Luna wagged a finger at the tray. “Oh, it’s there, believe me. You know what I think it is? It’s lack of exercise. When I was in New York, I walked everywhere. Here, I’m just hopping in my car and carting myself over to the library and back.”

  “Same here,” I said. “Although I’m not sure I particularly want to change my habit right now. It’s about a hundred degrees outside.”

  Luna tilted her head to one side, letting her purple hair tumble. “I wonder if I could just sweat this weight off? Maybe I should start walking to work and back.”

  I gave her an encouraging smile, although it sounded miserable to me. I decided to offer an alternative. “Do you have a bicycle? That would be quicker and would still provide exercise.”

  Her eyes widened. “True! And no, I don’t, but I bet I could find an inexpensive one online. Because I’m also trying to save money.”

  Wilson joined us in the breakroom. He was delicately holding Fitz, who was purring. He set the cat down carefully and I walked over and gave him a scratch under his chin. He gave me an appreciative look before finding his favorite breakroom sunbeam and falling asleep in it, still purring contentedly in his sleep.

  Wilson’s eyes widened as he spotted the tray of pastries. “Oh, wow.” He got himself a plate and picked out a few muffins for himself. “Wasn’t there a good turnout for the event?” he asked me with concern.

  “There were plenty of people there, but I guess the draw was the mayor and not so much the food. Or else, the attendees weren’t very hungry,” I offered. I glanced at my watch. Considering the three of us were in the breakroom, I figured I should head out to the circulation desk.

  “Before you go out there,” said Wilson, brushing a few crumbs fr
om his mouth, “I wanted to talk with you about the advice column.”

  Luna tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile. We’d talked before about Wilson and his pet projects. And this one really was a ‘pet’ project.

  I walked back toward Wilson. “I should have given you a better update earlier. You probably saw the flyers and the signs on the bulletin boards here, but I also did post a cute picture of Fitz wearing glasses and a notice about the column on our social media accounts. We’ve had a couple of questions come in and I’ve answered them but haven’t posted them yet.”

  Wilson nodded eagerly. “Yes, I’ve seen the social media posts. What I wanted to let you know is we’ve already gotten some responses. The column seems to be very popular online. It’s even being shared.”

  I admit my heart sunk a little at this news. After all, I didn’t exactly consider myself an expert when it came to relationships . . . or even life. I was very good at doing research, but aside from that, I felt like I struggled. I still had a crush on a man who wasn’t interested, for heaven’s sake. And now I was apparently stuck with yet another looming blind date with someone named Kevin.

  Luna leaned forward with interest. “What kinds of responses are we getting? I mean, what do the problems look like?”

  Wilson gave her an approving look as if she were a star student. “The problems that I’ve seen come in are a range. Some of them are written by students and have to deal with telling parents about a bad grade or something similar. Some are definitely letters from the lovelorn.”

  I winced. Again, I wasn’t feeling super-qualified to give advice for relationship issues right now.

  Luna said to Wilson, “That’s great that the program is getting such a response! But then, a lot of people don’t really have anyone to go to when they have issues. Neutral parties can be very attractive because you know the replies aren’t biased.”

  Wilson looked uncomfortable and suddenly directed his attention toward Fitz. This attention was somewhat unwarranted since Fitz was completely curled up in a ball in the sunbeam. “I don’t know if replies from neutral parties aren’t biased. I think our experiences have a tendency to color how we respond, even if we don’t want them to.”