The Swear Jar

by Osorio, Audra

  The Swear Jar

  By Audra Osorio

  Text copyright © 2013 Audra Osorio

  All Rights Reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Dedication

  I would like to dedicate this book to my husband, Felipe. I love you. Thank you for being my knight in shining armor. Keep holding my hand because we both know I’m a klutz. The best adventures are yet to come.

  And to my Dad, keeping an eye on me from Heaven, I’m proud to be your daughter. Thank you for saying ‘you can’t do that!’ because I’ll always say ‘watch me!’

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter One

  One late Saturday morning in June, a grumpy Duncan Phillips drove into the parking lot of Pin Oak Grove’s only supermarket. He was in a bad mood for three reasons. First, it was unbearably hot. It felt more like the desert than summer in New Jersey. Second, he had put off food shopping until he was desperate. His refrigerator was almost empty. Third, the silver Jeep creeping along in front of him was getting on his nerves. He was forced to park way out in the lot because it was almost filled to capacity. He soaked up the last of the air conditioning and watched the Jeep circle like a shark. Finally, it parked further out in the lot than he did. In a town this small, it was highly unusual he didn’t recognize the Jeep.

  Getting out of his car, he saw a sandy-haired woman and a red-headed girl emerge from the Jeep. The woman and girl were deep in conversation. The woman wore a blue t-shirt, denim shorts and sneakers. The shorts were attractive and hugged her curvy figure. The girl, who looked about ten years old, wore a rainbow colored t-shirt, denim shorts and sneakers. He assumed they were mother and daughter. The girl rapidly fired questions at the woman, who threw up her hands in exasperation. He could tell the girl was pressing the woman’s buttons on purpose. As they reached the only row of shopping carts, the woman scrounged around in her purse. He briefly touched the quarter in his pocket, instantly knowing that’s what she needed.

  “Anne, I can’t find one. Fork it over. Stop being so stubborn! It’s too hot to argue. My contacts are going to fuse to my eyes,” the woman hissed quietly.

  “Why didn’t you bring one? You’re the adult. You should plan for these things. And you should wear your glasses,” retorted Anne.

  “I brought the list, a credit card and you. What more do you want?” snapped the woman.

  With the freckles on her nose and cheeks dancing, Anne smiled brightly at Duncan. His bad mood disappeared as he beamed back at her. Rolling her eyes, she tilted her head in the woman’s direction.

  He cleared his throat. “Is there a problem, miss?”

  The woman was about 5’3” and in her mid-forties. She looked younger because she wasn’t wearing makeup. Her cheeks were rosy and plump. He felt too many women were skinny and looked hungry all the time. It was good to see a healthy woman for once. Her dirty blonde ponytail had gray streaks in it. She had light blue eyes with flecks of green and an attractive dimple in her left cheek.

  The woman saw his smile and mischievous green eyes. She was bad at guessing ages. He looked to be in his late fifties, early sixties. He was half a foot taller than her. He was stocky, but he was very attractive in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved, gray Henley shirt. He had light reddish-blonde hair with touches of gray at the temples. There was an adorable cleft in his chin.

  Finally, the woman remembered to smile. Grinning, he caught his breath as her blue eyes danced. Mesmerized, they stared at each other. Shaking her head, Anne watched them. She thought if this had been a silly romantic movie, this would be the moment they fell in love.

  The woman’s smile faltered. “I’m sorry. I’m blocking the carts. Let me get out of your way.”

  He frowned. “It’s not a problem. You need a quarter to unlock the cart. You can have mine. I can run back to the car and get another one.” He held out the quarter.

  “No, thank you. I couldn’t let you go back to your car in this heat! Anne has one. She’s going to give it to me right now if she knows what’s good for her!” The woman growled.

  Anne whined. “But I want you to use one of those kiddie carts shaped like a car!”

  The woman turned a cold, withering look on Anne. Anne had gone too far and quickly handed over the quarter. The woman unlocked the cart and pulled it out of the row.

  The woman smiled shyly at him. “Thank you again.”

  Anne winked at him. Putting a hand over his mouth, he choked back a laugh. He didn’t want the withering look to be turned on him. He stared at his quarter. Resigning himself to unlocking a cart, he headed into the supermarket. Anne and the woman stood in the lobby. Staring at a display of cookies, Anne pleaded to buy some. The woman was looking in her purse again. Duncan chuckled quietly.

  “I can’t believe you wanted me to push you around in a kiddie cart. Did you think I was going to risk heat stroke and a hernia? If it’s not on the list, we’re not buying it. You know I hate food shopping. There is nothing fun about food shopping. If we get this over quickly, I’ll take you for ice cream.”

  He was intrigued with this woman. He wanted to follow her. If he did, he was afraid she might think he was a stalker. If he didn’t, he felt he would be missing out on something very important. He didn’t know why he was so drawn to her. While he struggled to decide, the woman found her pen and grocery list.

  Anne said, “Deal. What IS on the list?”

  “The first thing is bread. To the bakery. Let’s go.”

  The bakery was on the other side of the supermarket. If he followed them, it would leave no doubt he was a stalker. Hanging his head, he wheeled his cart into the produce aisle. He agreed with the woman. Food shopping was not fun. He picked up red onion, cucumbers, tomatoes, lettuce and garlic croutons for a salad. He wasn’t much of a cook, but he tried to eat healthy food occasionally. Anne and the woman raced into the produce aisle. His frown lessened. As he listened to their conversation,
a smile spread across his face.

  “Anne, grab some bananas. I’ve got the eggplant and zucchini. And what kind of apples do you want? Red, really red, green, or yellow?”

  “Why are you buying eggplant and zucchini? You don’t know how to cook them. The apples do have names, you know, but fine, I’ll take the red ones.”

  “If it’s on the list, I get it. Someone else can figure out how to cook it. And you, missy! I give you the raspberry!” The woman stuck out her tongue and made a rude noise.

  He couldn’t help himself. He was hooked. Even if she thought he was an axe murderer, he had to follow her. He wanted to introduce himself. He wanted to see her smile and make her laugh. He wanted to kiss that dimple. Shocked, he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

  “What’s next?” Anne asked.

  “Cereal. Unless I stuff you behind the bananas. Or throw you in with the lobsters. Or shove you in a freezer.”

  “Cereal it is! Is ice cream on the list?” Anne asked hopefully.

  “Not this trip. You’ll get some if we get out of here soon.”

  They hadn’t seen him skulking by the crouton display. There was no harm in being a curious guy. He racked his brain for other items in the cereal aisle. Oatmeal? No one ate hot oatmeal in June. Jarred fruit? Nuts? Marshmallows! Marshmallows were further down the aisle, clearly non-stalking distance. It would buy him some time to introduce himself. He stopped in front of the marshmallows. He acted as if he was comparison shopping.

  “What cereal should we get?” Anne asked.

  “The list says cereal. Get two boxes, one grossly healthy looking and one that’s chocolatey. Next victim on the list, marshmallows. Anne, watch the cart.”

  Out of fear, his feet rooted to the floor in front of the marshmallows. The woman slowed down when she noticed him. He pretended to contemplate the unit price of each different type of marshmallow. He wondered how many marshmallows he would need to make s’mores for an army. He didn’t want to scare her off. The woman beamed at him.

  “Hello again! Are you picking out marshmallows too? Can you believe there are so many kinds?” the woman asked nervously.

  He turned slightly in her direction so he could see her and the shelf. He didn’t want to appear creepy. He could also see Anne looking at cereals. She held one box like it was radioactive. She honed in on another box on the top shelf. He hoped she would be careful.

  He smiled. “Hi. Yes, I’m trying to decide. I’m not sure which ones.”

  The woman bubbled. “We can rule out the miniature ones. No one is drinking hot cocoa now. You can OD on the medium-sized ones if you’re making s’mores. The giant ones make volcanoes in the microwave. Unless you’re really on a sugar binge, I’d go with the giant ones.”

  “I think you’re right. I’ll try them,” he said.

  He used both hands to grab two bags. The woman’s smile instantly faded when she saw his wedding ring. For him, it was as if someone had turned off the sun. As the colors around him dimmed, he lost his smile too, but for a different reason. Anne reached for a box of cereal on the top shelf. She teetered on the edge of the second shelf from the bottom, using the slowly rolling cart for leverage.

  “Anne, watch out!” He shouted as he zipped past the woman.

  “Yikes!” Anne cried, plopping in his arms.

  “Anne!” the woman exclaimed. “You shouldn’t be climbing the shelves! You could have hurt yourself. Thank this gentleman for saving you.”

  Anne shyly said, “Thank you.”

  He replied, “You’re welcome. Your mother’s right. You shouldn’t climb the shelves. Just ask for help.”

  Anne giggled as if he had said something extremely funny.

  The woman chuckled. “Anne, people think you’re my daughter. There’s no way I would have such an ‘abomination,’ a ‘child of the corn,’ a ‘red-headed snippet’ as my kid!”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Frank Herbert, Stephen King and L.M. Montgomery.”

  The woman looked at him curiously. “That’s right.”

  Anne huffed. “This is my Aunt Meara. We moved here in May and she moved here last week. She used to be a librarian.”

  Meara was horrified. “Anne! I’m still a librarian. I’m keeping an eye on you for your parents! I’ll get around to checking out the local libraries.”

  He smiled. It was going to take great skill to get a word in between the two bickering relatives. He liked listening to them fight good-naturedly.

  Anne’s turn came next. “Checking out the libraries? You said most librarians are in their jobs until they die. You said the only way to get a job would be to give a librarian the evil eye or make a voodoo doll.”

  He took advantage of Meara’s stunned silence to hold out his hand. “Aunt Meara, I would like to welcome you and Anne to Pin Oak Grove. My name is Duncan Phillips. I’m the director of Pin Oak Public Library.”

  Meara blushed as she shook his hand. “Oh, crap. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Meara Martin.”

  Anne chirped up. “You owe me a penny!”

  He didn’t understand Anne’s comment, so he kept talking. He didn’t want them to start fighting. He wanted to see Meara again and he quickly thought of a way to make that happen.

  “I’m happy to hear you’re a librarian. We’re looking for a Head of Youth Services. Why don’t you stop by the library next week and drop off your resume?” he said, formally.

  Meara regained her ability to speak. “Thank you, Mr. Phillips.”

  His sense of mirth was threatening to make him laugh. He had to get away even though he didn’t want to leave. He spoke quickly before he changed his mind.

  “It was nice meeting you, Meara. I hope to see you again soon. And it was nice meeting you too, Anne. I hope you’ll come with your aunt to the library.” He winked at Anne.

  Anne grinned, winking back at him. Meara was still slightly stunned by the encounter. Without looking back, he wheeled his cart away. They watched him go. Anne held onto their shopping cart.

  “Too bad,” Meara whispered.

  “What’s too bad?” Anne asked.

  “He’s wearing a wedding ring.”

  “It means he’s married, right? But you’re wearing a wedding ring too. When are we going to the library to give him your resume?”

  Meara looked at the band of gold on her left hand. “Anne, let’s get this over with, okay?”

  As he loaded his groceries into the car, Duncan decided to go to Moe’s Barber Shop for a haircut. He wanted to look presentable for Meara. That wasn’t entirely true. He also wanted to look attractive for her. He shook his head. What had gotten into him? As he sat in the barber’s chair, he thought about what had happened.

  With a simple smile, Meara had stirred something in him. She was funny and unpretentious. She had been nervous when she spoke to him. He wanted to get lost in those blue eyes of hers. She was beautiful. He blinked, shocked by his thoughts. How could she have affected him so deeply, so quickly? Who was this woman?

  It was true his Head of Youth Services had retired, but he wasn’t actively looking for a replacement. His Board of Trustees would consider her, especially if she was qualified. Would she come to the library as he had suggested? Right before Anne fell, Meara’s demeanor had changed. He wasn’t sure why. As he climbed out of the barber’s chair, he noticed his wedding ring on his left hand.

  “Oh, crap.” He muttered to himself.

  Did he owe Anne a penny? He had been worried Meara would think he was a stalker. Now she probably thought he was an adulterer. He hoped she would come to the library so he could explain. Why couldn’t he get her out of his mind?

  Chapter Two

  The Pin Oak Grove Public Library was a peaceful, quiet building tucked on the edge of a suburban public park. The tan brick building was rectangular and horseshoe-shaped. A concrete path led from the parking lot up to the recessed central entrance. The local gardening group’s pride and joy were on both sides of the path, nestled by the library’s exter
ior walls. The gardens included a variety of plants, bushes and flowers. Butterflies fluttered and bees buzzed throughout the day.

  The library’s entryway had two sets of glass doors. The inner doors opened directly onto the Circulation Desk. On the wall behind the Circulation Desk was a large mural painted by a local artist depicting Pin Oak Grove’s agricultural history. The mural was breathtaking. Visitors marveled over the artist’s heartwarming touches, such as a mischievous squirrel peeking out from the porch of a farm house. The wooden Circulation Desk spanned the length of the mural and held several computers.

  The Reference area was on the left and the Youth Services area was on the right. These areas extended from the Circulation Desk to the front of the building, making the arms of the horseshoe. Along the wall behind the Circulation Desk were the Circulation Office and the Director’s office. These two offices shared a wall and Duncan occasionally heard the staff socializing.

  Monday morning, Duncan was earlier than usual. He liked the peace and quiet. It gave him time to think and plan his day. Today, he was thinking about Meara. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her all weekend. The two Circulation Assistants, Tom and Lucy, arrived a few minutes later. They were both in their late sixties, but they had no intentions of retiring. Their spouses were only too happy to get them out of the house. Remembering Meara’s opinion on librarians and retirement, Duncan smirked. Tom and Lucy waved, but their smiles faltered.

  “Duncan, why are you wearing a suit and tie?” asked Tom, tilting his salt and pepper head. “Is the Board coming today?”

  “Who died?” asked Lucy, tucking her snow white hair behind her ears. “Anyone we know?”

  Duncan replied, “Yes, I’m wearing a suit. No, the Board isn’t coming. No, no one died.”

  Lucy said, “You look nice. Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine, Lucy. Thank you for asking.”

  Tom and Lucy thought he looked preoccupied. He paced back and forth to the windows overlooking the parking lot as if he was waiting for someone. They raised their eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. They liked him very much. He was a great boss and easygoing.