Читать книгу Bachelor's Puzzle - Ginger Chambers - Страница 10

ELISE GUIDED her Escort into the garage, the long day having finally taken its toll. At the moment she felt every bit of her fifty-three years. In fact, she felt a hundred and fifty-three! Her head ached, her back ached, her feet ached. She had been too exhausted to do more than pick at her food earlier when someone was kind enough to bring dinner to the volunteers at the church hall. But at least they had gotten the job done. Most of the books were now resting jauntily on end, their pages fanned open, continuing the process of drying. And the books that needed to be sent away and were valuable enough for the library to justify the costly procedure of reclaiming them had been frozen as procedure dictated. In all, only a small number would likely be lost. Considering everything, they had gotten off lightly. If the leak had been larger, or if it had occurred somewhere else—say, over the Tyler Collection that she had spent years gathering and that contained archival papers of the town’s history as well as old photographs that couldn’t be replaced... Elise shuddered at the thought. The day would have been a catastrophe. Now the only difficulty was the worrisome fact that such a catastrophe could still occur. If the pipes in one section of the library were in such poor condition, it stood to reason that pipes elsewhere could be the same. Not to mention the condition of the roof. Elise shook her head in quick denial. She didn’t want to think about the condition of the roof!

After gathering her purse and jacket, she let herself out of the car. Where once her suit had been crisp and smart, the skirt and blouse now looked to be in almost as wretched a condition as her dress had earlier. She hadn’t bothered to go home again to change into clothes suitable for the book rescue work. She hadn’t wanted to take the time. So she’d just removed her jacket and set to work. And after an afternoon spent wiping down shelves and walls and floors, and an evening supervising the transfer of water-damaged books, her clothes might never be the same.

Elise fitted her key into the back door lock and stepped inside the house that she and Bea had lived in for most of their adult lives. The design was perfect for Bea’s needs, and what wasn’t had been altered. Their parents had bought and refitted the house just a few years before their deaths.

Distinctive theme music from a popular television drama spilled out of the living room, alerting Elise to the presence of the others. She knew Josephine was there because her car was parked at the end of the sidewalk.

Both women looked up when Elise entered the room. The cat made the first move toward greeting, stirring her slightly pudgy body to get up, and then stretching her back into a high arch before starting a slow, regal walk toward the person who fed her. Tiny noises of pleasure sounded deep in her throat.

“It’s certainly about time,” Bea pronounced shortly. “We’d just about given you up for dead!”

Ignoring Bea’s remark, Josephine said, “You look exhausted. Were you able to finish?”

Elise crouched to stroke the cat, who was rubbing against her legs in an ecstatic show of goodwill. “Buttercup...hello. My goodness, did you miss me?” She laughed lightly when Buttercup purred a response. Scooping the cat into her arms, she straightened and answered Josephine’s question. “Yes, thank goodness. At least, with this part. Of course, tomorrow the insurance people will come and we’ll have to see about getting the ceiling repaired. Not to mention arranging things with the vacuum-chamber people and continuing to work with the books at the church. Then we have to do something with all the books that didn’t get damp but had to be moved anyway. They’re just stacked haphazardly about. Then...” Buttercup grew restless and twisted to be set free. Elise released her, then claimed a seat on the couch for herself.

“I’m sorry I asked,” Josephine murmured dryly, gazing at Elise with compassion.

“So that means tomorrow is going to be another repeat of today,” Bea said tightly, not showing any compassion. “You’ll be away again all day and half the night.”

“No, Bea,” Elise answered levelly. “Today was unusual because of the accident.”

“I was going to give you five more minutes and then go to bed,” Bea snapped. “If you want to stay out all night, well, that’s up to you. But there are those of us who have to sleep!”

“I’m home now, Bea,” Elise defended herself tiredly.

“I told you to go to bed, Bea,” Josephine said, taking up Elise’s cause. “I told you I’d brush your hair.”

“No.” Bea shook her head. “It’s the least Elise can do after being away each day for so long. And especially the way she abandoned me today.”

Elise closed her eyes. Right now she didn’t think she had strength left to lift the brush.

“Let me do it for you tonight,” Josephine urged. “Just this once.”

Bea gathered her possessions onto her lap, adjusting the wheelchair as needed. She collected her magazine, her sewing, her tissues, her wrap. “Elise can do as she wants,” she replied primly. “If she doesn’t want to brush my hair, she certainly doesn’t have to.” She then made a production of pushing herself across the room, making it seem difficult, hard to accomplish.

Elise started to get up but Josephine stopped her. “At least let me help you to your room, Bea. Elise is tired. She needs to rest.”

“I can take care of it myself!” Bea snapped. “I don’t need help from you!”

“Bea!” Elise protested.

Bea turned. She lifted her chin. Her body seemed delicate in the chair, but when she chose, her angry spirit could dominate even the most determined soul. “I can’t say it’s been nice, because it hasn’t. Today has been an absolute nightmare! Josephine, there’s no need for you to come over tomorrow. I’ll be fine. I can do without a meal or two. It won’t hurt me.”

“Bea!” Josephine chastised her in turn.

Bea threw their visitor a superior look before her eyes moved on to her sister. Once they were settled upon Elise, though, her expression became harder to define.

Tears of exhaustion sprang into Elise’s eyes. She had to blink rapidly to keep them from falling.

A tiny, satisfied smile feathered the side of Bea’s mouth. Then she turned away and rolled resolutely out of the room.

The television blared into a newsbreak but no one seemed to notice. At the closing click of Bea’s door, Josephine switched off the set. Silence permeated the room.

A moment later Elise said softly, “I suppose today has been difficult for her.”

Josephine’s jaw was tight. “I don’t see why. Between the two of us we’ve done everything we possibly could for her. She takes advantage of you, Elise, you know that. Anyone else would tell her to take her dictatorial ways and jump into the nearest—”

Elise sat forward, interrupting her. “Tomorrow really shouldn’t be as bad as today. There’ll be a lot to do, but at least I know what to expect. I can’t tell you how horrible it was this morning to look into that room and see that gigantic bubble hanging from the ceiling. Then to be standing almost under it when it broke!” Elise started to laugh, a release from tension. “I was grabbing books, trying to get them out of harm’s way, then, whoosh! We had our own indoor monsoon!”

“How did you get along with Professor Fairmont?” Josephine asked. “Does he think he can do anything to help with the new library?”

Elise’s laughter stopped. She had been successful in keeping the man out of her thoughts from shortly after she saw him leave late in the afternoon to this moment. She shrugged. “We didn’t really have time to talk. He’s coming back on Friday. We’ll discuss it then.”

Josephine nodded. “I told you before that he impressed me. I like the way he looks you straight in the eye and doesn’t bother to hide what he thinks. You know where you stand with someone like that. Not that he can’t charm the birds from the trees when he wants—you can see that at first glance, too. But there’s something underneath. A fine, strong character.”

Buttercup leaped gracefully onto the couch and started to purr as Elise absently stroked her silky head. “I felt like he could see too much,” she mused.

“What do you mean?” Josephine asked, frowning.

Elise shook her head, then was forced to cover a huge yawn.

Smiling good-naturedly, Josephine stood up. “The best favor you can do for yourself right now is get into bed and not worry about a thing. I’ve taken care of the kitchen. All the dishes are washed and put away. I also made some of Bea’s favorite breakfast rolls for tomorrow morning, so that should keep her happy, at least for a while.” Josephine took a moment to examine her friend closely. “It probably won’t do any good,” she said, “but I’m going to say it anyway. You’re taking too much onto yourself, Elise. Wearing yourself too thin. You can’t handle all the burdens of this town as well as those of your family. One person can carry only so much!”

Elise returned the woman’s gaze with tolerant amusement. “I’ll remember to give you the same speech the beginning of next semester when you’re single-handedly trying to drag the high school along in your wake. We’ve known each other for too long, Josephine.”

Josephine grimaced. “You’re probably right. Sometimes I think I’ll retire early. Go off on one of those world cruises, the kind that only single people can get a ticket on. Meet some nice man and settle down. Want to come along?”

“What? And shock everyone in Tyler? We’re going to keep doing what we’re doing forever, remember? Our lives can’t change. Town institutions don’t just get up and waltz away from their duties.”

Josephine located her purse. “Maybe one day we’ll surprise them all. The head of the library waltzes off, the head of the high school waltzes off....”

“I’ll just be happy to have the new library.”

Josephine nodded in resignation. “Me, too. One small step. Then maybe the school can build a new science lab. We’re not asking for that much, are we?”

Elise saw her friend to the door and gave her a warm hug. “Thanks for all you did today. At the library. Here.”

“Anytime. Well, no. I didn’t mean it that way. We certainly don’t want another accident.”

Elise waved as Josephine drove away, then she closed the door and secured it. The house was quiet when she turned. Quiet and somehow empty. Bea was in her room, waiting to have her hair brushed. The marmalade cat was fast asleep on the couch. Echoes of their parents still could be felt in the decor that had changed little since their deaths so many years before. Yet there were times when it just wasn’t enough.

Elise drew a soft breath, braced her weary shoulders and went to tap on Bea’s door. The call for entry came without hesitation.

Bea was sitting up in bed, the wheelchair off at an angle nearby. Elise moved it in order to get the brush out of the bedside table drawer. Bea had already taken her hair down, the long, pale threads her last remaining pride. Wordlessly, Elise perched on the edge of the mattress and began the ritual that ended each sister’s day.

As usual, Bea relaxed when the long strokes with the brush began, and as usual, Elise’s mind wandered. Tonight her thoughts flew to a certain time in the day when she had sat at her desk directly opposite a vital, attractive man, and he had placed his hand over hers and told her not to worry. And for a few enchanted seconds, she hadn’t worried. All her cares had lifted as she became lost in the certainty of his voice and the look in his unusual yellow-brown eyes.

Bea moved impatiently. “Have you gone to sleep?” she demanded. “You’ve stopped brushing!”

Elise immediately shook the memory away, glad that her sister couldn’t see the warm flush that had crept into her cheeks.

* * *

AMID THE FAMILIAR surroundings of his apartment in Milwaukee, Robert Fairmont sat at his drafting table and contemplated the set of blueprints for the Tyler library. He frowned in concentration as he moved from sheet to sheet and finally to the specifications at the end. It was a good job, nothing less than he expected from Fred Dupont—which was exactly what he’d decided after reviewing the project the day before. Fred had been a good student and now he was a good practicing architect in the firm with which Robert himself was affiliated. But Robert could see where civic pride and a good artist’s instincts had eventually led to a clash with today’s fiscal reality.

He checked the papers that constituted the history of the project. First contact with the firm had come nearly three years before, at a time when matching funds from state and federal sources were much easier for small towns like Tyler to access. As those sources dried up, any number of civic projects all over the state had been put on hold.

He returned to the specifications. Yes, it truly was a beautiful job. The library would have been a building all involved could be proud of. Only now it faced the same threats as had the courthouse in Johnstown Corners and the new administration building in Bennington Falls before he had found a way to save them. Could he help the people of Tyler in the same way?

He smiled slightly to himself. The simplest solution would be to lop off the top floor of the two-story Greek Revival structure, but he doubted that the chief librarian would sit still for that. And he couldn’t blame her. Space was so cramped in the building that presently housed the library. What would be the sense of constructing a new building that gave them very little additional room? The collection wouldn’t get wet, but that was about all he could promise.

Robert moved away from the drawing board to stand at the series of wide windows that overlooked Lake Michigan. Lights were starting to twinkle along the shore as the setting sun rapidly plunged the area into night. He leaned against the thick plate glass, his shoulder registering its solidness as well as its coolness as he hummed softly in accompaniment to the delicate strains of the Mozart piano concerto that reverberated throughout the apartment. There was no one to complain if he was slightly off-key or to protest that he hummed too loudly; no one to criticize his choice of music. His features relaxed into contentment. A short time later, when the movement drew to a close, he sighed, and with reluctance allowed his thoughts to return to the events of the day.

His time in Tyler had been far different from what he’d expected. He had planned to pass a couple of hours in consultation about the library, then be on his way back to Milwaukee, about an hour’s drive away. As it turned out, most of the day had been spent in hard physical labor! Row upon row of books had needed to be moved, shelves had to be taken down, the room where the leak had occurred had had to be emptied so that repairs could be made and all surfaces properly cleaned. There hadn’t been time to do much consulting—at least, not with the chief librarian. But he had been able to pick up on the feelings of a number of his fellow workers. It seemed that the old house that had served as Tyler’s library for the past forty years had reached the point of no return. Everyone agreed it was in terrible condition and might fall down at any given moment—an exaggeration, Robert knew, but one that expressed the townspeople’s feelings succinctly. All seemed to want the new library to be built, but no one had a good idea of how to replace the funding that had been lost. Their attempts to raise additional money had barely scratched the surface of what was needed, which made their frustration easy to understand. So, too, was the desperation of the librarian, who pretended to be calm and collected in the midst of disaster, but who in reality was in a near-explosive state of worry.

Robert pushed away from the window and moved restlessly about the apartment. He was glad he had a project to think about, something to keep his mind occupied for the dog days of summer. Unlike past summers, when he had traveled, this one he had decided to spend at home. And he could already tell that his decision had been a mistake.

He moved back to the drawing table and continued to hum, both lightly and on-key, as he exchanged the plans of the Tyler library for a set of yellow tracing sheets on which he had been sketching his version of a modern-day cathedral. After securing it in place, he sat down to work. It was his whimsy that one day one of his renderings would rival the best that Europe had to offer in style, grace and innovative grandeur.

The German poet Goethe had once likened architecture to “frozen music.” That was the way Robert thought of his craft. It appealed both to the artist in him and to the engineer. The challenge was everything.

* * *

ELISE HURRIED downstairs, aware that once again she was late. For a person who prided herself on being punctual, the past few days had been a trial. There had been problems with the insurance company, with arranging an appointment for the vacuum chamber, even with the hall at Fellowship Lutheran. Somehow someone had overlooked the fact that the church hall was scheduled for use that weekend, and it had taken a number of calls, plus Elise’s own pleading intervention, to make arrangements for the planned awards dinner to be held instead at the hall belonging to the Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd.

Once Elise got behind in her schedule, she seemed to stay behind. She had thought to have most things under control by this morning, only to discover that Joe Santori could come three days early to repair the ceiling of the Biography Room. And she wasn’t about to tell him not to come. The way things were progressing, a refusal could equal several weeks’ delay. So she had stayed at the library longer than planned, which made her late arriving home to prepare Bea’s lunch, which accordingly had delayed her preparation for her second meeting with Robert Fairmont.

A light film of perspiration glazed her body, the result of a too-hot shower, a too-warm house and heightened tension. She wore another suit, a backup reserved-for-meetings suit that was the same pale blue color as her eyes. It didn’t quite manage the psychological boost of the red suit she’d donned three days before, but it was close. Fired with determination, she felt in control, competent and businesslike.

She had thought about everything that had happened when she met the professor the first time and decided that her reaction had been magnified all out of proportion. None of it had been real. When she saw him today he would prove to be an ordinary human being with eyes that saw nothing beyond the commonplace and a voice that held no particular power. He would come, they would talk, and hopefully Tyler would be able to build its new library. Afterward, she would go on just as she had always gone on, with one day following another.

Bea made no demand as Elise came downstairs. Giving in to curiosity, Elise peeked around the doorway into the family room. As usual, Bea was sitting in front of the television set, but instead of watching the broadcast game show, she had fallen asleep.

Elise paused, not wanting to wake her. But when Buttercup gave a meow of welcome and with feline grace jumped from the couch to the floor without disturbing Bea, Elise was drawn farther into the room. Chances to observe her sister unnoticed were extremely rare.

Bea’s blond head had no brace. She slept sitting upright, her slender body fragile in the dull-colored, shapeless dress. In repose, her features were soft, almost beautiful again. The ravages of bitterness and self-pity might never have been.

Elise studied her, then as shadows of the past began to dance before her eyes, she became very still. She saw Bea as she once had been: happy, smiling, unhampered...a flirt at seventeen. And she saw herself at eleven: half child, half budding young woman, who doubted herself even as she thought her sister one of the most magnificent beings in the world. Then had come a fateful Wisconsin winter, a snowfall, the gradual formation of ice....

A primitive cry sounded deep in Elise’s throat as her features twisted with pain. She tried to thrust the terrible memory away. It hurt too much! She loved her sister. She didn’t want anything bad to have happened to her. She didn’t want to remember!

Bea’s eyes opened with startling suddenness. In them, there was no question as to where she was or what was taking place. She looked directly at Elise and said, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Elise tried to control the trembling of her limbs. She tried to act as if nothing was wrong. But she knew that Bea could see through her performance. “No, I just—You were sleeping and I thought—”

Bea had perfected a certain smile over the years, a smile that combined innocence and raw power. It was a smile that instantly plunged Elise into distress without her being fully aware of the cause. Bea used it now. “I wasn’t sleeping,” she said.

“But your eyes were closed!” Elise wanted to run from the room. She always felt so exposed at these moments.

“I was resting, that’s all. Are you leaving again?”

Elise rubbed a hand across her brow. Her hard-won poise had disappeared as if in a puff of smoke. The meeting was going to be a disaster. Robert Fairmont would arrive in Tyler and all her worst nightmares would come true. He would tell her that cutting costs would be impossible. That she should stay in the old library and be jolly well glad that she had it...even if the town council did dig in their heels and refuse to spend any more money on it for needed repairs. Then he would look penetratingly at her and see everything that she kept hidden inside, see her deepest thoughts and desires. See her for the fraud that she truly was! “Uh... yes,” she stammered. “I have a meeting.”

“With that professor?” Bea lifted an eyebrow in speculation. “The way Josephine described him, he sounds a little too hoity-toity for my taste. He must think quite a lot of himself.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Elise murmured, glancing at the door and escape.

Bea saw the look and dismissed her angrily. “Oh, go on. Leave! You’re not exactly a scintillating conversationalist anyway. Just get me a pitcher of lemonade before you go. The house is on the warm side today.”

“Would you like me to switch on the air-conditioning?”

“What? And have me freeze? No, I should certainly say not. Just get me the lemonade.”

Elise wished that she had never stopped to glance into the room. If Bea was quiet, she should have taken advantage of the moment and slipped silently out of the house.

While mixing her sister’s refreshment, she tried to repair the damage that had been done to her assurance. But she knew the job remained only half-finished when, upon her return, Bea’s sniff of disapproval still caused her pain.

* * *

ELISE SWUNG her car into the rear parking area of the library that was usually reserved for the staff. This afternoon, however, a truck was parked close to the back entrance and the whine of an electric saw could be heard coming from deep within the building. Joe Santori and his young assistant, Lars Travis, were still hard at work.

Elise set the emergency brake and stepped outside. Under the guise of adjusting the shoulder strap of her purse, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then, strengthening her spine, she set off, seemingly ready for anything.

The interior of the library was divided into individual rooms, just as it had been during its occupation by the Friedrichs, the family who had once lived there. The floors were oak, buffed to a well-worn luster by the custodian, Jimmy Randolph, and in what once must have been an expensive touch, prodigious amounts of geometrically carved moldings decorated the walls, the doorways, the windows and even the bookcases that had been built into the home’s private library.

Changes had been made to convert the building to public use, but most of the changes involved running electrical conduits along the floor to various work stations for the staff and filling almost all the rooms with shelves. No walls had been taken down and only a few added.

Elise hesitated in the doorway of the large front room that had served the Friedrichs as a combination living and dining room and that now served as the library’s main circulation area. Her gaze swept over staff and patrons. From the calm that had descended over the facility, no one would have believed that only a short time ago the area had been involved in such chaos. Delia Mayhew was at the circulation desk checking out books, Pauline was on her way to the Children’s Room, where the regularly scheduled preschool story time was due to start, and Rebecca Sinclair, new to Tyler but already a treasure as a volunteer, was wheeling a cart loaded with books to be reshelved. Several people were standing at the long card catalog, searching through the alphabetized indexes, while others sat at nearby tables with narrow catalog drawers at their elbows as they hastily jotted down information they needed.

A light frown touched Elise’s brow. She had already stopped by her office, expecting to find Robert Fairmont there. Before leaving for home, she had asked the staff to keep an eye out for him, to show him into her office when he arrived and then to offer him coffee or tea or whatever else it took to keep him entertained until she returned. But he wasn’t there. Her office was as empty as when she left it.

She caught Delia’s eye and lifted her eyebrows in puzzlement. Delia immediately glanced toward the card catalog, causing Elise to examine that area again. And sure enough, there he was, standing beside the massive file, gazing back at her with such knowing amusement that Elise felt her whole body burn with embarrassment. Had he been there all along? How had she missed him? His smile grew, as if he were privy to those thoughts as well!

Elise struggled to control her reaction. She had to deal with this man, talk with him intelligently. She couldn’t afford to let him see that he unsettled her so badly. It was all in her mind, she told herself. Only in her mind!

He came toward her and stopped a short pace away. “Elise,” he said. His voice was simultaneously honey and fire.

Elise glanced at Delia for help, but Delia was talking to two of Britt Hansen’s children as she began the process of checking out their books. Elise’s gaze was drawn back to the professor.

He was dressed impeccably in light gray pants and a charcoal blazer with a stylish tie brightening his white shirt. His hair was brushed perfectly into place, full and thick and wavy, the threads of silver shining splendidly among the dark. His skin was still nicely tanned, the lines on his face lending a distinguished aura of wisdom and experience.

She smiled tightly. “I’m—I’m sorry I’m late again. Things are still, well...”

“I stopped by the room with the leak earlier. It looks as if everything is coming along nicely there at least.”

Elise was glad to have something to talk about. “Ahead of schedule, actually. The men weren’t supposed to come until next week.”

“Surely that’s good news.”

“Oh, yes! Definitely! At the moment I’ll take anything that looks like good news. It’s been such a...” She could hear herself continue to blather on about the problems she had faced over the past few days. Her words seemed to go on and on, and she couldn’t make them stop.

When there was the slightest pause in her monologue, he broke in...which only heightened Elise’s embarrassment at her behavior. She never talked endlessly like that! If there was one person in Tyler in control of her tongue, she was it! Still, he’d almost had to physically restrain her in order to insert a word.

“I think we can do it,” he said simply, delivering his verdict without aggrandizement.

Elise blinked. At first her mind didn’t register what he’d said. “Do what?” she asked.

His smile returned. “The library. It’s going to take some work. We’ll have to go over everything to see exactly what you need and what you don’t need. See where we can cut corners. But I don’t see why it can’t be done.”

For the moment Elise forgot everything but her joy at his words. Happiness lighted her eyes and her face, making them glow. “You’re willing to try?” she exclaimed.

“If you are,” he agreed.

She would put in as many hours as were needed. Exist on two hours of sleep each night. Do whatever was necessary to...

“Elise?” The voice calling her name was different. Male, but definitely not belonging to Robert Fairmont.

Elise turned to see Joe Santori standing beside them, dust from the gypsum board he had been using to repair the ceiling clinging to his skin and clothing even though it was evident he’d tried to brush himself off. Elise felt as if she had been shaken from a dream again, only this time a good one. “Yes, Joe?” she asked. “Is there a problem?”

Joe shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He was a large man, well-built, with curly black hair and a quiet pride in his work. “Well, yes. We’ve hit a little snag.” He hesitated. “Water’s starting to show up again. Not much,” he was quick to add when he saw Elise blanch, “just a few drops. But the quicker we get Mike McNamara back out here, the better it will be. We sure can’t close her up as it is.”

Elise stood very still, then she felt herself start to sway. The soft background noises in the library receded into a hollow hum and Joe’s face blurred. Over a sudden tightness in her throat, she managed to say, “Would—would you mind calling him, Joe? Right now...I just can’t...” Fingers reached out to steady her, pulling her against a solid strength.

Joe stepped forward in concern, guilt flashing over his features.

Elise wanted to tell him that everything was all right, that what was happening wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, except possibly her own. She had been pushing too hard and not eating properly, and now she was paying the price. Not that she wouldn’t mind a temporary respite from her problems. To get completely away, to have a few moments of unadulterated peace...that seemed the most wonderful bliss. Though she felt bad when she saw Joe’s worried look. And when she turned to see that it was Robert Fairmont she leaned against so contentedly, she felt even worse.

She longed for unconsciousness, but it never came... which in a rather pathetic sort of way was funny. She was too responsible even to faint properly!

With her thoughts still slightly fuzzy, she met the gaze of the architect. In his eyes she saw concern, but also something else: his recognition that a part of her wanted to laugh! Surprise made him blink, then answering amusement sparked in his unusual eyes.

A smile tugged at Elise’s lips and, unable to help herself, she started to giggle, which caused Joe to completely misread the situation. Thinking that she was crying, he called out to Delia, who, when she saw that Elise looked near to collapse, abandoned the circulation desk and came running toward them. A few patrons rushed over as well.

“Does she need a doctor?” someone asked.

“Is it a heart attack?” someone else queried.

“Oh, my God!” Delia cried.

“Water started to drip from the ceiling again,” Joe explained to the audience at large. “I had to tell her.”

Elise choked. “Joe, it’s okay. I just forgot to eat lunch, that’s all.” Then her face crumpled into laughter again, which the crowd mistook for pain. The whole situation was just too much! One misunderstanding followed another.

A hand came out to shield her face, turning it in to the fine woolen material of a blazer. “I think she just needs some time alone,” Robert Fairmont said quietly but with dignified authority.

Pauline rushed up, called away from the children by someone who had witnessed the scene. Her round face was pallid, full of fear. “What’s happened?” she demanded. “What’s wrong? Elise?”

Robert swept Elise fully into his arms. She kept her face buried against his shoulder. Suddenly she wanted to cry. Laughter had evolved into tears.

“I’m taking her home. She needs to rest,” he said. He turned to Joe Santori. “Why don’t you call her later this afternoon to let her know what the plumber says. I’m sure she’ll want to know.” Joe nodded agreement.

Elise took a series of unsteady breaths as she felt herself being transported through the front door and onto the porch, then along the sidewalk to the line of parking slots that angled off the street. She peeked around the architect’s shoulder and saw that the little group of concerned people had followed them onto the porch. They watched as he placed her feet on the ground and dug in his pocket for the keys to a dark blue Mercedes.

He opened the door and bent to lift her inside, but she stopped him.

“I can get in myself,” she said.

He pulled back to look at her. “Are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded wordlessly.

He stood back, ready to lend assistance if needed. But it wasn’t needed...not this time. While crossing to the driver’s side, he waved to the small crowd and called out something, something she didn’t understand.

She watched as he slid behind the wheel, secured her seat belt and his own, then brought the engine to life. The car smelled of leather and a good men’s cologne, and its engine purred with understated power and efficiency.

Certainly this wasn’t the way she had expected to leave the library today!