by Lynn Cahoon
“Have you asked in the rare-book community?” Cat considered the people she’d bought out-of-print books from; someone had to have an idea of the book’s value. “I should have some contacts I could give you.”
“That would be nice, honey. Miss Applebome was going to ask her librarian friends, but if you have some names, that might be faster. That woman doesn’t like me messing with her library, she’s made that clear as day.”
Cat bit back a smile. As head librarian, Miss Applebome ruled with an iron fist. She only agreed to the retreat library cards if the participants took her Library 101 session, which is why they were here today. “She likes things her way.”
“That’s an understatement,” Uncle Pete complained. As they walked out of the building, he paused as he turned left toward the parking lot. “You want a ride back?”
“Nope, I’m good. I need to stretch my legs; I’m sore from skiing yesterday.” She stretched her arms. “All over.”
Chuckling, he nodded. “And that’s why you don’t see me throwing myself downhill on two pieces of wood. I’d kill myself for sure.” He paused. “Anything going on up there I should know about?”
Cat shrugged. “The bartender is really good at his job. He’s a natural at suggesting the perfect drink and loves to chat up the customers. But I got the impression that they handle their customers responsibly. He offered to set Seth and I up with a room before we started drinking.”
“That’s because the two of you ooze couple-ness. It’s probably because you dated each other for so long. You act like you’ve been married for years.” Uncle Pete turned toward the parking lot.
As Cat made her way back home, walking through campus and the side streets, she thought about what he’d said. Sunday had felt like old times. She smiled at the memories of skiing with the gang during high school. Even though they couldn’t get into the bar, they would hang around the fireplace, drinking soda and talking about the day’s runs. And the ones from the weekend before. Most of the other kids weren’t dating, but it didn’t seem to matter. They were a tight-knit group, and everyone saw Seth and her as being perfect together. Now she had to wonder: Were she and Seth already a couple again? They’d fallen into the same routine, the same level of comfort with each other without much fanfare. She was happy they were dating, but maybe it was too soon. And the bigger question was, Was that what she wanted?
Chapter 3
The house empty now that the guests were out, Cat stopped in the kitchen to grab some coffee. The room was unoccupied too. Even Shauna had disappeared for the morning. “So what,” Cat mumbled to herself. “Perfect time to head upstairs and write.”
She poured her coffee and then put a couple of cookies on a napkin. She was stalling. Sometimes her writing office called to her like a new love, and sometimes, like today, she felt like she was being sent to detention even though it was her choice to write.
She made a note on Shauna’s kitchen whiteboard to let Shauna know she was in the house. With guests in the house, they kept the front door unlocked most of the time, a practice that made her uncle cringe. Typically, someone was in the house at all times, either her or Seth or Shauna, but this morning the house was empty when she arrived back from the library. Maybe they needed to talk a bit about scheduling, especially on retreat weeks.
Grabbing a couple more cookies, she headed out of the kitchen and to the stairs. Pausing at the foot of the staircase, she looked down the hall to Michael’s office. Then she went back into the kitchen, grabbed the key to the office from the sideboard, and marched down the hall to unlock it. Cat blamed Uncle Pete for her lack of focus. When her deadline was gone, she could spend time thinking about a future with Seth. But when she thought about being a couple, her mind twisted back to Michael. Without finding out what really happened to their marriage and her ex-husband, she couldn’t move on, no matter how much anyone pressed.
The room smelled like wood polish as she pushed open the door. She’d ignored the room and her husband’s journal for weeks, focusing instead on her writing. Now, the memories were too strong for her. With no one in the house, there were no distractions. No one to tell her this was a bad idea.
Shauna had cleaned since Cat had last been here. The room looked neat as a pin. She sat down in what used to be her reading chair and put her coffee on the side table. It felt strange to her that Michael hadn’t changed the office once they’d divorced. Why keep the one piece of furniture she’d insisted he buy and make room for in an office that was supposed to be all his? Opening the journal she’d left next to the lamp, she bit into one of the cookies as she started reading.
She knows something’s wrong. I can see my lie turning around in her eyes as I’m saying it. “Yes, I have to work late, again. Don’t hold dinner or wait up for me. In fact, why don’t you go out with your friends? You haven’t seen them in months.” I hate having her think the worst. She should know I took my vows forever, but if she thinks I’m just a jerk, it will keep her safe. I’ve started receiving hang-up calls at the office. Are they warning me to keep my mouth shut?
If she was to believe Michael’s journal, not only had he been in trouble, but he’d lied to her to force the divorce. The idea made her head spin. She looked at the leather-bound journal. She wouldn’t put it past him to make up a story about how he was the noble one. Especially since he’d looked like quite the jerk in the divorce proceedings … which, from reading this entry, was his plan all along. “Oh, Michael, what did you get yourself into?”
A door slammed and she jumped, her hand knocking a cookie to the floor.
“Cat? Are you here?” Seth’s voice echoed through the house, and she knew he was standing at the foot of the stairs, looking upward. She closed the book, being careful to replace the bookmark between the pages and picked up the last cookie and her coffee. She shut the door and locked it before she answered.
“I’m here.”
Seth turned toward her voice, and his face darkened a bit when he saw the key in her hand. As quickly as that emotion had registered, it disappeared and Cat was left wondering if she’d been imagining things. “Hey, I told Shauna I’d stay until you got here, but I got called to an emergency water issue on a job in town.”
“No worries. I wondered why the house was empty.” She put the key away in the kitchen and then returned to the hallway where Seth waited. “Are you leaving again?”
“Yeah, I just had to pick up a drill I left upstairs.” He brushed a stray hair away from her face. “You okay?”
Cat knew he wasn’t just talking about her being alone in the house. Trying to figure out the real Michael had twisted her insides up more than once. And Seth knew it. “I’m fine.” She looked upward toward her office. “I’m heading upstairs to write while the house is quiet.”
“I should have this leak fixed in a couple hours. I’ll be back around five to check in and see if you need anything.” He pulled her close and kissed her. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that?”
“I’m just a normal girl with a crazy big Victorian to renovate.”
He laughed, and then bounded up the stairs to the room he’d been remodeling. Seth fit in the work on the Victorian when he wasn’t busy with the rest of the odd jobs he got as the only repair person in town.
As she turned to follow him upstairs, the door opened again. There was no way they could be back by now. She glanced at the grandfather clock before turning around. Miss Applebome’s class should have gone longer than forty minutes. Plastering on a smile she didn’t feel, she turned to see which one of her guests had already returned and cancelled out her writing slot.
Instead of a retreat guest, Professor Turner stood in the foyer, looking around, confused, until he spotted her at the stairs. “Miss Latimer. I’m so sorry I missed you at the library. I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow’s session.”
And with those words her writing time disappeared. She’d have to get up early tomorrow to make up her word count she missed today. She moved t
oward the professor. “Of course, would you like something hot to drink?”
“A cup of tea would be nice.” He stomped his feet on the rug, trying to get off the snow that had accumulated during his walk here. She wondered if the professor even had a car.
“Take your coat off and meet me in the living room. We can talk there since you’ll be speaking there later; that way, you can get reacquainted with the set up.” She went to the kitchen to make his tea. She added a few of Shauna’s fresh baked cookies to a plate, refilled her own coffee cup, and put everything on a tray. Before she left the kitchen, Seth came up from the basement, tools in one hand, and grabbed a couple cookies with the other.
“I’ll see you later.” He kissed her and looked at the tray. “Who’s here?”
“Professor Turner.” She forced a smile. “And I’m the hostess with the mostest.”
He left through the kitchen door, calling back to her, “You’re just too nice. Always have been.”
When she entered the living room, Professor Turner was already practicing his lecture. He flushed as she walked in. “Sorry, I’ve been working on my speaking presence since, as dean, I’m called into many meetings, and sometimes I even have to make an impromptu presentation.”
“You sounded great. Last session, the group adored you.” She set the tray down on a coffee table. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
He took a sip of the tea and then added a couple of teaspoons of sugar. Trying another sip, he nodded, then set the cup down. “I suspect you know I’ve been wanting to make this dean appointment permanent, not acting. It requires a lot of my time for the administration processes, so I’m afraid tomorrow will be the last time I’m able to talk at your retreat.”
Cat smiled, wondering how long it had taken the guy to get up the courage to talk to her. Professor Turner—well, soon to be Dean Turner if he had his way—didn’t like saying no. “I suspected as much. I appreciate you letting me know. Will you be asking for volunteers, or can I choose who I’d like to replace you?”
“Now, that’s just the thing. Professors are a busy lot. I did the task out of my love for all things Hemingway, but we will no longer be able to subsidize your retreat in this manner. If you want a professor to speak, you will have to pay them their speaker rate.” He ate the cookie, not looking up at Cat. “I’m sure you can get some of the newer professors at a reasonable cost.”
“The college offered the guest lecturer as part of our agreement with the library. In exchange, I give you a slot for one graduate student for free, minus the room charge.” She leaned forward. “It’s all in the contract.”
Professor Turner frowned. “I didn’t see a contract in Dean Vargas’s papers. Do you have a copy?”
“I’m sure I do.” Cat thought about the mess on her desk upstairs. Would it be there or would the final copy be in Shauna’s files? “I’ll bring over a copy as soon as I find it. Wouldn’t the college’s legal department have a copy?”
He shook his head. “I tried there. I didn’t want to bring up all this money stuff, but honestly, Dean Vargas was very free with his spending. I suspect several of his deals weren’t approved by the board.”
“Since you’re here, you must mean specifically the one between the college and my writers’ retreat.” Cat blew out a breath. She had spent hours hammering out a fair agreement between the college and her retreat. Their logo was on her marketing materials. If they were no longer a partner, what all would she have to change? And at what cost?
“I don’t mean to be snippy, but yes, unfortunately I don’t believe you have a valid contract with the college. Until you can come up with your copy, I’m afraid I will have to ask you to pay the required speaker fee.” He stood and took two cookies off the plate. “I look forward to meeting your group tomorrow. I hear you have a determined historical fiction author in your group.”
Cat was nothing if not determined. “I’m sure they will enjoy hearing you speak.” She stood and followed him to the foyer.
He slipped on his coat, held his hat in one hand, and the doorknob with the other. “I’m sorry to bring bad news to you on such a lovely day.”
Cat stood by the doorway, watching the professor make his way to the road. The snow plows had been doing their job, and the streets were white but had clear driving lanes. Unless a new batch of snow fell, they might just clear off with the heat from the bright sunshine today. The clock chimed noon and Cat made her way to the kitchen, hoping that there was a leftover shepherd’s pie in the fridge she could microwave for lunch. Or, barring that, a big bag of potato chips and salsa. She deserved a treat after the morning she’d had.
And after lunch, she’d go upstairs and write.
Under her earlier note on the whiteboard, she wrote Where’s the contract? Between her and Shauna, one of them should remember where they filed it a few months ago.
Otherwise, she was going to be footing a huge cost to remove Covington College as one of her sponsors, along with paying a visiting professor for each of the retreats where they already had guests confirmed. Either that, or she needed to take the item off as one of the perks of the retreat.
She shook her head. No use thinking about it now. Now was time for food. She spied several of the individual portions in the fridge, so she took two out and popped them in the oven to heat. If Shauna didn’t arrive home in time for lunch, Cat would eat both of them. Not that she was starving; instead, the warm food eased her anxiety. Food made her feel safe and in control, not the best way to deal with the unknown, but it would work for today. Between spending time with Michael’s journal and then the less-than-satisfactory meeting with Professor Turner, she deserved some food love.
While she waited for lunch to be ready, she satisfied herself with a cookie and leafed through a fashion magazine Shauna had left on the table.
She was just taking lunch out of the oven when the back door opened and Shauna arrived to save Cat from herself.
“You read my mind.” Shauna plopped bags onto the counter. “I would have called to tell you to put a couple pies in, but I got talking at the market. Apparently, the stolen book was the college’s signed copy of A Moveable Feast. It was one of a few his widow signed when it was published after his death. I loved that book when I read it at university.”
“I wouldn’t think grocery shopping would be a good source for gossip. I just go in and get stuff and leave.” Cat started unloading the first bag.
Shauna laughed and paused at the door before returning to the car. “Then you’re doing it all wrong. The grocery store is the best place to catch up on local news. I’m also hearing Brit’s pretty steamed about Tommy Neil’s antics. The wedding seems to be still on, but she postponed her wedding-gown appointment.”
Cat waited for Shauna to return with the final load of bags before responding. She didn’t know the local bartender well, but she knew how it felt for someone you loved to betray you. Or at least believe that he’d betrayed her. Her divorce from Michael had been complicated when it happened. Now, with the knowledge Uncle Pete had shared that he believed Michael hadn’t died of natural causes, and the journal, she wasn’t sure what to think anymore. But she knew how she’d felt back when they’d divorced. She dug through one of the bags, grabbing the stuff that needed to be stored in the fridge. “Maybe cancelling is the best thing. I don’t think you can fix a cheater. Although who am I to judge?”
“Now, we don’t know that Tommy has actually cheated.” Shauna held her hand up to stop Cat’s response. “Yes, he kissed a girl in a drunken moment. Maybe he was dealing with cold feet. Or just sowing his last wild oats?”
“Even if it’s just that, Brit’s better off without him. She’ll always be looking over her shoulder for the next shoe to drop. I say cut him now and find someone who really loves her.” Cat took the steaming dishes over to the table. “You want a salad or something with this?”
“I think you’re putting some of your own history on Brit’s situation. Anyway, the meat p
ie will be fine. I do have a bowl of cut fruit from breakfast in the fridge. Get that out and it can be our dessert.” Shauna moved to put away the rest of the groceries.
“Hold on a second. I need to tell you something.” Cat told Shauna about the journal entry and waiting. When she didn’t respond, Cat asked her the one question that had been echoing in her brain for the last few hours. “Do you think it’s real?”
“The entry or Michael’s fear?” Shauna placed the perishables into the fridge. “I didn’t know the man, so I can’t give you advice on the whole thing. Maybe you should show the journal to your uncle?”
“Maybe.” Cat took a bag and unpacked the canned goods for the pantry. “He’s busy with this book investigation. I guess I could wait for a few days.”
“I think you need some perspective from someone who knew both of you.” Shauna folded the last, now empty, bag then paused at the whiteboard to erase her status and Cat’s short-lived declaration that she was going upstairs to write. She pointed at the next line. “What contract?”
Cat filled her in on the impromptu visit from Professor Turner. “Do you have the contract from Dean Vargas I can give Turner? I think we’ll have to look at the budget if Professor—I mean, Dean—Turner is right.”
“I know we got a final copy from the legal department.” Shauna tapped her spoon on the edge of her plate as she thought. “Give me a bit and I’ll find it.”
“We have until the next session, but if we need to change things on the website, I’d rather do it sooner than later.” Cat took a spoonful of the fruit and put it next to the half-eaten pie. They finished lunch, chatting about the new retreat attendees.
“I can’t say I’ve gotten to know any of our new guests yet. They are so different from the last group.” Shauna brightened. “Speaking of the last group, you got flowers today.”
“From who?” Cat put her empty plate in the sink and ate the last few pineapple chunks in the now almost-empty fruit bowl. She offered the melon pieces to Shauna, but she shook her head.