Buried in Books

by Kate Carlisle

  “Admit it,” he said. “If you stayed home, you’d be bored out of your mind. There’s nothing left to do for the wedding. You’ve planned every last detail down to the minute.”

  “I know. Robin told me I’m a disgrace to bridezillas everywhere.” I grabbed another cracker and chomped down. “I’m just feeling grumpy because everyone’s in Dharma having fun and I’m not there. Ordinarily I love this conference, but since you’re home and our families are having a blast together, I sort of feel like I’m forced to go off to work every day.”

  “I’ll be going into the office a few times this week as well. Aren’t we a sad pair?”

  I flashed him an accusing look. “Don’t pretend you’re not perfectly happy staying in town while our families frolic in the wine country.”

  He chuckled. “I admit I’m rather relieved to be away from it all.”

  I considered that for a moment. “Guess I need to adopt your attitude.”

  “Everyone should,” he said, biting back a grin.

  Rolling my eyes, I held out my wineglass. “I’m going to need more of this.”

  Chuckling, he poured more wine into my glass. I took a sip and ate another cracker. Finally Derek leaned forward and rested his elbows on the counter. “Are you going to tell me what happened today?”

  With a shrug, I said, “It’s not a big deal, really. I ran into an old college friend. Graduate school friend, actually. We had an interesting conversation. I’m still mulling it over.”

  “Graduate school. From your time in Austin?”

  “Yes.” I had received my masters in library science at the University of Texas at Austin, which was also one of the best schools for bookbinding and archival studies in the country.

  “And this was a good friend?” Derek said. “Was it one of your Musketeers?”

  I was taken aback. “You remember me telling you about that?”

  “Of course.” His gaze was solemn. “I remember everything you’ve ever said to me.”

  I laughed, but then tried to think back over our time together. What else had I told him that might come back to bite me? “Now you’re scaring me.”

  He chuckled. “Tell me about this friend, darling.”

  With a sigh, I gave him the basic details of my hour-long chat with Heather.

  “She said it out loud?” He shook his head in disbelief. “That she would kill this other woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you believe her?”

  “Good question.” Did I? I had to ask myself. “No, of course not. I mean, she was angry, but you know, it’s one of those things that people say. There’s no way she could’ve meant it. But . . .”

  “But you never know,” he said, finishing my thought.

  “Right.” We exchanged wary glances. The two of us had seen enough dead bodies to know that almost anything could motivate someone to kill another person.

  Deep in thought, I swirled the dark red wine in my glass and stared at the way it coated the inner surface. “I should’ve just asked her if she meant it. That would’ve been smart.”

  “It might’ve been awkward,” he said. “What if she told you she was just kidding? Would you have believed her?”

  With a groan, I said, “I don’t know. There was so much rage in her tone.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “After twelve years, she’s still so angry. Isn’t that a little sad?”

  “Some people hold grudges for a lifetime,” he murmured.

  Gazing at him, I had to wonder if maybe Derek had known someone like that.

  I sighed. “I guess it’s a good thing Sara isn’t coming to the conference.”

  “Are you sure she’s not coming?”

  I smiled wistfully. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind seeing her again because we used to be such good friends. But I’d hate to be around when she and Heather see each other for the first time.”

  “That could be unpleasant.”

  “You can say that again.” I took a quick sip of wine. “Now that I think about it, I’m not sure I’d like to see Sara after all. Both she and Heather really changed after Rod showed up. They weren’t much fun anymore. Always competing for his attention and spending way too much time fluffing their hair and putting on makeup and worrying about what to wear. And then once Sara snagged him away from Heather, she became insufferable. Their final confrontation was awful.”

  “It still bothers you.”

  “We were so close and . . .” I shook my head. “It was sad. Needless to say, the Three Musketeers totally fizzled.”

  “No longer one for all?”

  I chuckled. “Hardly. We all went our separate ways and never spoke to each other again. Until today.”

  He leaned forward and reached for my hand. “I’m sorry, love.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Don’t get me wrong. It was wonderful to see Heather. I’ve got a lot of great memories of the three of us. She was always so smart and she had a wicked sense of humor. God, we had a good time.”

  “Darling, it sounds like you used to have a wonderful friendship. If you’d like to invite her to the wedding, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

  I stared at him. “I didn’t tell her about our wedding.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t?”

  I shook my head, mentally replaying the conversation with Heather. “I couldn’t be sure of her reaction. She seemed to be so angry still, I didn’t want to make her more miserable than she already was. So I never mentioned it. We just kept talking about her. Her problems, her anger, her pain. Her life since college.”

  “Then on second thought”—he paused—“perhaps it would be better not to invite her.”

  “I agree. She might not appreciate all the joy and happiness in the air.”

  “True,” he said, then added sagely, “Too much joy and happiness can be a real downer.”

  Chapter Three

  Early the next morning, I rushed over to the convention center to give my speech on book conservation. It was a dry subject, but I always tried to infuse a little bit of lightness into the talk.

  “That was absolutely the most inspiring speech I’ve ever heard,” a young woman gushed. “It’s like you looked straight into my soul and spoke directly to me.”

  I almost laughed at her overwrought words, but her expression was so sincere, I didn’t dare. Besides, I loved talking about book conservation and the need to preserve our oldest books and treasures. It was an important topic and I was strangely exhilarated after speaking for the last hour to an auditorium filled with librarians. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it. It’s important to take good care of books.”

  “I believe in books,” her friend whispered. “We have to save them all.”

  “Those are words to live by,” I said with a firm yet positive nod.

  “Can I take a picture with you?” the first girl asked.

  “Sure, as long as you send me a copy.” I handed her my card with my email address on it. “I’ll post it on my social media pages.”

  “Oh, awesome!” She quickly sidled up to me and held her phone out as far as she could. “Smile!”

  After pressing the button twice, she whirled around and beamed at me. “Thanks again. You’re my idol.”

  “Uh, thank you. Thanks for coming.” As she walked away, I found myself wondering what she would think if she could see me working alone in my studio with no makeup, tossing back chocolates, wearing sweats and Birkenstocks. Ah, the glamour.

  “Wow, you made her day.”

  I turned and found Heather standing behind me. “Hi. I thought we were meeting at the restaurant.”

  “I had a little extra time so I popped in to listen to your speech. You’re good.” She nodded for emphasis and smiled at me. “Really good. I was impressed.”

  I grinned as I gathered up my notes and tucked them
into my briefcase. “Thanks. I get a little zealous with the message sometimes.”

  “Zealous is good. Especially when you’re preaching to the choir. I should think everyone here would want to save the books. For librarians, it’s our mission in life.”

  I winced a little at the way she phrased it. “Was it too preachy?”

  “No, don’t worry.” She chuckled as we headed for the door. “And I’m glad to see that some things haven’t changed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were always so conciliatory back in school.”

  She made it sound like a bad thing. “I was?”

  “You don’t remember?” She smiled and shook her head. “You were always the one who looked at both sides of an issue or tried to play devil’s advocate when someone got carried away. A teacher would give you a compliment and you would immediately search out all the reasons why everyone else in class was just as good. You were always so annoyingly fair.”

  “Wow, that’s harsh.” I gave a weak chuckle, but I wasn’t feeling happy. She made me sound completely boring.

  “That was a compliment.” She laughed and elbowed me lightly. “Seriously, I’m amazed that you’re still as self-deprecating as you always were.”

  “No I’m not,” I argued. “I can be a selfish pig when I want to be.”

  Heather laughed again. “If you say so.”

  We walked out into the sunshine and headed over to Third Street to my favorite Thai restaurant in the area. Heather’s words were still rattling around in my brain and I had to force myself to let it all go.

  Lunch was delicious and the conversation was fun, lightening my mood. I asked a ton of questions and Heather did a lot of the talking, but eventually she got around to asking me what was happening in my life. That was when I finally mentioned the wedding to her.

  She blinked and dropped her chopsticks. “What?”

  “We’re getting married this Sunday.”

  Her eyes went wide. “But . . . but . . . what are you doing here?”

  I smiled. “I know it’s weird. At first I was going to cancel my conference events, but then Derek and I realized I didn’t need to. We planned it all really well and now everything is basically ready. Our families are up in the wine country all week, getting to know one another, enjoying each other’s company, and eating good food. And Derek and I are both home, taking it easy. Sort of.”

  “But that’s . . . that’s crazy!” Heather sat back and stared at me as if I had two heads. “You should be freaking out and terrorizing caterers and making unreasonable demands. Or at the very least, packing for your honeymoon.”

  I hung my head in shame. “I’m already packed.”

  Her eyes widened in horror. “You. Are. Sick.”

  “I know,” I said, laughing. “But I can live with it. And better yet, Derek can, too.”

  “Wow.” She had to pause and breathe. “Well, congratulations on your wedding. If he’s as wonderful as you say, I know you’ll have a beautiful life.”

  “Thanks, Heather.” I wanted to wish the same to her, but I couldn’t. My friend was still stuck in the past and it was breaking my heart.

  Heather insisted on paying for lunch—“Consider it a wedding gift,” she said—and after a minute of half-hearted arguing, I gave in and let her pay. We walked back to Fourth Street and then split up. Heather continued on to the conference center while I headed for home to change into more casual, comfortable clothes for the Book Lovers’ Tour that afternoon.

  Once home, I took my tour file from my desk drawer and read through my notes for the hundredth time. I knew my city intimately and I’d given this tour before, but never with strangers. I wanted to be clear and concise and entertaining during every moment of the trip. Okay, I knew that was a pipe dream; I just hoped it would be interesting and fun for everyone. Including me.

  I found my itinerary and easy directions for the bus driver and set them on top of my notes. I planned to go over each stop on the tour with the driver before any of the raffle winners got on the bus.

  Also in the drawer were my handouts for the winners. I had hand-drawn a quirky map of the city with funny icons for each stop, and added a short history of each point of interest. I had also made individual mini-accordion booklets for each of the participants. These would be a fun, colorful giveaway. Derek had suggested that I might offer to autograph the booklet if anyone wanted me to do so.

  This was going to be a piece of cake, I thought, then laughed out loud. Because the truth was, I was so nervous, my hands were shaking.

  “Never mind,” I muttered. Dashing down the hall to my bedroom, I checked my outfit and hair and makeup one last time, then strolled back to my studio, where I packed everything into my rolling briefcase.

  Charlie bumped up against my ankle and purred loudly.

  “I’m sorry I can’t stay and play with you,” I said, giving her a quick scratch and a few strokes down her back. “But Derek will be home soon.”

  She swatted my shoe lightly and then sauntered off. To wait for Derek, I assumed. That was certainly what I would do if I were a cat. Or a human, for that matter.

  I cleaned and freshened her food and water bowls, then wheeled my briefcase out to the hall and locked the door.

  Ten minutes later, I was standing in front of the wide sidewalk outside the main entrance to the conference hall. I checked my watch and saw that I still had a few minutes before the bus arrived. Just enough time for my nerves to escalate into a full-blown panic attack.

  “Ridiculous.” I paced a few yards back and forth, taking comfort in the fact that I’d never had a panic attack in my life. Then again, it was never too late to start. In my defense, I was about to get married, so even though I knew it was all taken care of, there was still a tiny voice in the back of my mind screaming incoherently. Then there was this tour, with a bunch of strangers. Those two things started me off on a downward spiral, and after that, my busy brain took the bait and ran with it.

  Pacing helped quell my nerves, so I continued to walk back and forth around the wide sidewalk by the entrance. I also took a few deep breaths, sucking in air while hoping no one would notice.

  It helped to watch all the people coming and going. I was amazed that each of them carried what appeared to be at least a dozen books and I remembered one year when I brought back forty-six books from a conference in Chicago. I had to buy an extra suitcase to transport my treasures back home. Once again, I was grateful that the conference was in San Francisco this year so I wouldn’t have to deal with that issue.

  Okay, good. Books had taken my mind out of panic mode and into a zone of comfort, at least for a few minutes. I continued to concentrate on mundane thoughts as I strolled back and forth along the forecourt until a horn honked, pulling me out of my daydreams. I looked up in time to see a shiny white mini-coach pull into the passenger loading area.

  “Saved by the bus,” I said, then waved to make sure the driver had seen me. He pulled to a stop right next to me and I had a moment to admire our transportation for the afternoon. The charter service had called it a “luxury mini-coach bus” and promised it would seat twenty-five people.

  The door opened, and to my complete shock, my mom and Meg Stone, my soon-to-be mother-in-law, stood there waving madly.

  “Yoohoo, Brooklyn!” my mother cried, as she climbed two steps down to the sidewalk.

  “I’m right here, Mom.”

  “Ach!” She wrapped me in her arms and gave me a little squeeze. “Blimey, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, then?”

  “What are you doing here?” Was it my imagination or was my mother speaking Cockney? “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you.”

  As soon as I was free from my mother’s arms, Meg grabbed me in her warm, viselike grip. “It’s wonderful to see you, Brooklyn. You look beautiful.”

  “Thank y
ou, Meg. It’s great to see you, too.” I leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “When did my mother start speaking with a British accent?”

  Meg’s face lit up. “Isn’t she adorable?”

  “Huh.” We held each other at arm’s length for a moment and she gazed warmly at me. Her bright blue eyes twinkled with charm, reminding me of Derek.

  Mom pulled me back for another hug and I held her tightly for a quick moment. “I’m still in shock. How did you get here?”

  “We haven’t seen you all week,” Meg said. “So we decided to come into town.”

  “That’s wonderful,” I said, glancing from Mom to Meg and back. “And here you are. On my bus.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for all the tea in China, now, would we?” Mom stepped back and opened her purse. “Where’s me kettle ’n’ hob?”

  I flinched at her mangled attempt at British slang and stared at Meg. “What did she just say?”

  Meg laughed. “She’s looking for her phone. She wants to know what time it is.”

  “How did she get . . . Never mind.” I gave an inner sigh. At least with my mom around, I’d be too busy to have another panic attack. “You’ll tell me later.”

  “Of course, dear,” Meg said, patting my shoulder.

  We all stood in a circle and gazed at each other, grinning like loons.

  “So really, what are you doing here?” I asked, once my initial shock had started to fade.

  Meg squeezed my hand. “Derek told us you were giving a tour today and we decided to come along. Do you mind?”

  “Cor, she won’t mind,” Mom said, winking at me. “She’s not a bloody wanker, now, is she?”

  I gaped at my mother, who had apparently gone full Cockney after spending three days with Derek’s English parents. Who weren’t Cockney at all, by the way, but that didn’t matter to my mother.

  Meg didn’t seem at all fazed by my mother’s oddball behavior. She had happy tears in her eyes as she hugged me again. “I’m positively thrilled to be back in San Francisco. I can’t wait to watch you make Derek the happiest man on the planet.”