A Mysterious Mix Up

by J. C. Kenney

  “Then we need to discuss my proposed website upgrades. And you need to be at the library at two for your board meeting. Since you’re announcing the new director today, you should wear something professional that fits with the occasion.”

  With wide eyes, Rachel’s gaze went from me to Calypso and back to me. “I’ve overheard her telling some of the staff at the pub that she tells you what to do. I like it.”

  “What can I say? She keeps me on task.” I leaned back so I could make eye contact with my intern. “Even though you scare me a little, right, Calypso?”

  With a smile, the young woman clunked back across the room. She handed one copy of the contract to Rachel and the other to me.

  “I don’t scare you, Boss. I keep you on your toes.”

  We shared a laugh while Rachel gathered her things. On her way out the door, she thanked me for having confidence in her and gave me a hug. As she descended the stairs, she brushed something from her eye.

  While Rachel would never admit it to me, something told me it was a tear of joy.

  For the next hour, Calypso and I discussed the edits she’d made to the manuscript. It was a good conversation, as I took on the role of teacher and my intern the willing and eager student. While she had plenty of self-confidence and had an excellent base in grammar, she also absorbed my feedback like a sponge.

  Time spent like this was an investment in the future of the agency. It was also a joy to talk about things like the most effective use of Track Changes with someone who shared the interest. Lord knew Sloane had always been, and would always be, my BFF, but the details of my job bored her.

  Calypso had a passion for good storytelling that couldn’t be faked. She was as raw as d’Artagnan had been when he met the Three Musketeers, but, with my help, she had a future in publishing if she wanted it.

  She was tech-savvy, too, and gave me confidence that, in a few months, I’d be able to turn things like the agency’s social media accounts and website over to her. It meant we could take on more clients. Which meant bringing more books to the world.

  The future looked bright for the Cobb Literary Agency.

  But first, I had a task to complete as the newest member of the Rushing Creek Public Library Board of Directors. It was one I couldn’t wait to fulfill.

  A little bit later, I emerged from my bedroom in a new outfit I’d bought specifically for the meeting. And the celebration dinner to follow.

  “What do you think?” I executed a pirouette, which wasn’t easy in the three-inch heels I was wearing.

  Calypso tilted her head to the side and furrowed her eyebrows. It was a sign I’d learned that meant she wasn’t sure what to think. Or say.

  “I love the suede boots, but I thought you didn’t like heels. You’re not making compromises just to make a man happy, are you?”

  “No. Well, maybe.” The boots were the final piece to an ensemble that was much flashier than I was known for. I’d matched a formfitting black blouse with a pair of oh-so-comfortable black leggings. To complete the ensemble, I was wearing a thigh-length blazer in the same shade of blue as the boots. As a bonus, I was wearing a funky, woven belt that featured the seven colors of the rainbow.

  “I’ll give the heels a pass this time, Boss, given the circumstances.” She crossed her arms and smiled. “You look pretty amazing. Good job.”

  “Thanks. Your fashion style is rubbing off on me.”

  It was true. I would never be seen in public wearing a Ramones T-shirt with rips at the shoulders, like Calypso was sporting today. And black jeans with tears at the knees wasn’t my style. I liked her black-and-white checked slip-on sneakers, though.

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and rattled her keys. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

  A little while later, I took my seat at the table with my four fellow library board members. As the meeting was gaveled to order, my eyes got watery. It was going to be an emotional event.

  There were four items on the agenda. The first was a vote to formally appoint me to the board. It passed unanimously. I dug a tissue out of my purse and wiped away a tear. I sensed Vicky was smiling down on me. I felt it.

  The second was to name new board officers. In short order, a new president, vice president, and secretary were approved. As a board newbie, I breathed a sigh of relief nobody wanted me to take on an officer position. Someday, maybe, but not today.

  Today wasn’t about me. It was about honoring the library’s past and embracing its future.

  When it came time for agenda item three, I cleared my throat. “In honor of the longest-serving librarian in Rushing Creek’s history, I move that the name of this building be changed from the Rushing Creek Public Library to the Victoria Napier Memorial Library of Rushing Creek.”

  Before I had time to take a breath, the motion was seconded and approved. The members of the public in attendance applauded. I had to wipe away more tears.

  The last agenda item was the most newsworthy. It was to name the new library director. I looked up from my agenda to Brent, who was sitting among friends and family in the crowd. He was alternating between wringing his hands and running his fingers through his hair.

  I winked at him. He returned the wink with a nervous smile.

  The new board president said a few words about the search for a director. Five candidates had been interviewed. One of them had checked all of the board’s boxes—a background in library science, supervisory experience, and a dedication to the Rushing Creek community.

  “It’s my pleasure to make a motion to name, as the new director of the Victoria Napier Memorial Library of Rushing Creek, Mr. Brent Richardson.”

  Since it was common knowledge Brent and I were an item, I had recused myself from the search for a new director. It was an excruciating few seconds while we waited for the motion to be seconded, even though the ceremony was a formality. Brent had been offered the job three days ago and accepted immediately.

  The moment the motion passed, I got to my feet and led those in attendance in a standing ovation.

  Brent shook hands with Sloane and Calypso then came forward to shake hands with each board member. He saved me for last.

  Had decorum prevailed, I would have shaken his hand like the others and told him congratulations. Instead, I hugged him and planted a kiss on his lips.

  When the meeting ended, Brent was surrounded by well-wishers offering pats on the back and words of welcome. After that, he sat for an interview with Kim Frye, the reporter from the Brown County Beacon. It was his moment in the sun, and I was thrilled to sit back and let him revel in it.

  When things wound down, Brent and I made our way to the Rushing Creek Public House for a celebration. I held it together until we walked into the banquet room. The moment we stepped across the threshold, the gathering gave Brent his second standing ovation of the afternoon.

  And the dam broke.

  I leaned against my boyfriend and struggled to wipe away the tears as we took our seats. The last time I’d cried this hard had been the night I fought with Freddie. Those were tears of despair. Tonight, they were tears of pure elation.

  I looked around the table. My entire family was with me, from Mom the matriarch with her new friend Terrance, to my siblings Luke and Rachel, to the twins, who embodied the promise of the next generation. My friends Sloane, Diane, Lori, and Jeanette were there, too. Matt had gotten away from work to join us, taking a seat between Tristan and Theresa.

  Once everyone was seated, Calypso bumped my arm and handed me a notecard. Since Brent was my boyfriend, the official words of welcome fell to me.

  “Brent, you and I have been through some interesting adventures together. Today, it’s my distinct pleasure to welcome you to Rushing Creek, where we can now share our adventures with everyone in this room. Cheers!”

  As everyone lifted their glasses and drank, the tears began
anew. Here, in this room, Rushing Creek’s past and future had come together in celebration of good times.

  I had more than my share of joy. My agency was growing. My family was together. My boyfriend was moving to town. With a job that was perfect for him.

  I’d been through the darkness caused by Vicky’s murder but come out the other side. Bruised, yes. But not broken. I’d made it into the light, thanks to the guidance and warmth of family and friends. It was a wonderful place to be. A place Dad and Vicky would approve of.

  I was ready to enjoy it.