Valentine Kisses: A Kiss to Last a Lifetime

by Abigail Drake

  “You know Colin Firth wasn’t the first Mr. Darcy,” Effie said. “You’re completely overlooking Laurence Olivier’s performance.”

  “Wait? Laurence Olivier played Mr. Darcy?”

  Effie nodded. “Do you know who played his Elizabeth Bennet?”

  “I’ll Google it,” Ariel said.

  “Why would you Google anything when I’m standing right here?” Effie asked.

  Ariel and Mia gave Effie their full attention. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been a librarian for thirty-five years,” Effie said. “I am Google. Pre-historic Google.”

  “Kind of like a Google-a-saurus?” Charlie asked, covering her giggle with her hand.

  “Yes. I am a librarian. Information is my job,” Effie said.

  “So who was Laurence Olivier’s Elizabeth?”

  “Greer Garson,” Effie said.

  “Who’s Greer Garson?” Mia asked.

  “Google it,” Effie said, rolling her eyes. “Go right ahead.”

  “Show off,” Charlie laughed.

  Katrina invited Charlie to go along to the Board of Directors meeting with her that night. Charlie was surprised and concerned. She was nervous about speaking in public, especially when she saw the board members in person. Bill Gutherie, Earl Easterling, Nan Armstrong and Drew O’Donnell were some of the wealthiest and most influential people in Good Harbor.

  Charlie sat in the front row while Katrina stood at the podium to give her report.

  “We’ve read your report, Katrina,” Nan said. “We’d like to say for the record that we think you have some very creative solutions to many of the problems we're facing. We commend you for your performance, and we’re grateful the library is in such good hands. We are glad we have such a resourceful steward steering our public library.

  Katrina looked smug. Seriously smug.

  Charlie supposed she would look that smug if she happened to be passing off someone else’s ideas as her own. She was stunned silent.

  The report Katrina had passed out to the members of the board was word-for-word as Charlie had detailed it her memo to Katrina. The only distinct change Charlie noticed was Katrina had taken the time to delete Charlie’s name and add hers.

  And now, the memo she’d prepared for an audience of one was in front of the entire Board of Directors. Katrina was actually going to pass off the work Charlie had done as her own. Charlie was certain the only reason she’d been asked to come to the meeting tonight was just in case Katrina needed to explain any of the facts and figures in the report. It was probably the first time Katrina had ever seen them.

  “If you want to go in a different direction than I’ve detailed in the report, we could sell this white elephant of a building for a profit,” Katrina said. “Let a real estate developer turn it into condos. Our catalogue could go online, and all we’d need is a small space in the county government building on the edge of town.”

  Charlie fundamentally disagreed with Katrina. She couldn’t contain herself any longer. She put her hand up and got to her feet before she was called on.

  “I was raised to believe libraries are more than just stacks of books,” Charlie said. “They are community centers.”

  “I agree with Katrina. Good Harbor doesn’t need a library. It’s a drain on our city’s budget. Electronic books are cheap,” Bill Gutherie said. “You can download a dozen onto your iPad for next to nothing.”

  “A good reader in sixth grade is going to go through five to ten books a week in our summer reading program,” Charlie said in direct response. “That is not cheap. In fact, it makes it so that no child can afford to participate. Even the children from the most affluent neighborhoods in Good Harbor.”

  “So much information is widely available on the Internet,” Katrina suggested. “We don't need librarians who are trained information specialists. We can get by with a smaller and more affordable staff.”

  “I must caution you to remember that not everything you read on the Internet is true,” Charlie said. “More than just a few teachers at the high school have frequently reported problems with students who use Wikipedia for their research papers. Their facts are not always accurate. Guidance from well-trained librarians is the key to making sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “That may be all well and good, but most of the population doesn’t use the library. Only a small segment of our community are regular patrons. We have a conference room and an auditorium,” Katrina said. “Both have gone into disuse because they are in dire need of repairs.”

  “If Front Street was in poor condition, then you’d authorize funds to make the repairs,” Charlie said. “You wouldn’t block it off and build another road. That’s crazy sauce.”

  “What kind of funds would we need to spend to bring the community room back to being usable?” Earl asked.

  “I don’t know exactly. I was going to call you this week to get an estimate,” Charlie said.

  A few guffaws and rumbles of laughter were heard in the crowd. Earl smiled warmly at her. Then he pointed to someone in the last row. Charlie sat down, relieved to be out of the spotlight. “You’ve had your hand up for a while.”

  Charlie couldn’t see who had raised their hand from where she was seated, but the minute he started speaking, she knew exactly who it was.

  “I’ve been working as the handyman at the library for the last week,” Hank said. “I’ve had a chance to look around the facility. I can offer you my professional opinion if you’d like?”

  “We’d be most obliged,” Earl said. “Don’t you all agree?”

  The other members of the Board of Directors nodded. They leaned forward with interest in what Hank had to say.

  “The problems in the community room are mostly cosmetic. Some spackle and fresh paint, and you’d be back in business. In the auditorium, some broken windows have been boarded over rather than replaced. There are also a few seats in need of repair. But honestly, it’s all very doable on a very small budget. I’m guessing less than a thousand dollars.”

  “So, theoretically, we could have the community room ready in time for the Valentine’s Day party my staff is planning?” Katrina asked.

  “Absolutely,” Hank said.

  “If that is true, then all that remains to be seen is if the community will turn out to show support,” Katrina said. She gave Charlie a challenging look. Charlie wilted under her gaze. She never intended to confront Katrina in such a public manner. She bit her lip, nervously, knowing she would pay dearly for speaking her mind about the library’s future.

  “Long-term, the biggest problems in the facility are the bathrooms,” Hank said. “They’re all out of date. The fixtures all need to be replaced. While I haven’t been behind the walls, I’m guessing some, if not all, of the pipes in the building are lead.”

  “So if you were going to guess, Hank?” Earl asked. “How much would it cost to update and modernize the restrooms?”

  “Twelve thousand,” Hank said. “Fifteen, max.”

  “Piggybacking off Hank’s educated guess about the cost of the repairs. I’d like to add this time of year, Easterling Construction has a lighter schedule,” Earl said. “If the Board gave us the greenlight, we could have the entire library project done in a matter of six to eight weeks.”

  “No matter what you decided about the plumbing, I know I can have the place looking like it’s dressed up to go to Sunday School in time for the party on Valentine’s Day,” Hank said.

  “Seems like a good compromise,” Earl said. “What do you think, Katrina?”

  “I’m not impressed,” she said. “But I’ll hold my final judgment until after the party. I think we’ll have a better understanding of our community support by then.”

  “We have plans for a writer’s group, book clubs and a foreign movie society,” Charlie said. “All we need is a chance.”

  “Thank you, Charlie. For your unsolicited thoughts,” Katrina said.

  Charlie bowed her head, kno
wing she probably deserved to be dressed down after speaking out of turn. Still, her heart constricted at the thought of losing the old library. She turned and found Hank’s friendly face in the back of the room.

  Their eyes met. His lips curled up a little in recognition. Her heart felt like it had been strapped to a rocket and blasted off into the deepest, darkest, outer reaches of space. Charlie couldn’t hold his gaze. She blushed and looked away.

  He was so nice. And so hot. How could any guy be both? Seriously. He was just too much. Not really. He wasn’t too much. He was actually kind of perfect.

  Hank was perfect.

  I really, really, really like him.

  Charlie was more than a little surprised. Not only by her feelings for him, but the fact she was finally able to admit it to herself. She liked Hank. In that way. She wanted to him to be her Valentine.

  If she was being completely honest with herself, Hank was almost better than a book boyfriend.

  Almost.

  Truthfully, Hank wasn’t like any of her book boyfriends. He wasn’t a cowboy. He didn’t wear a kilt, and he wasn’t a billionaire in a designer suit. He was just Hank. Her next-door neighbor. Her good friend. He was just a dude. Yeah. A really hot dude, but Hank was also a really, nice guy.

  Maybe I should say yes. Maybe I should take a chance with Hank.

  Hank pushed his way to the front of the crowded room, anxious to speak with Charlie before she left. She was hunting for one of her gloves under her chair when he found her.

  “Do you need a ride home?” Hank asked.

  Charlie looked up and smiled at him. “My car is at the library.”

  “I can drop you off there so you can pick it up?” Hank asked. He took her coat out of her hands and held it up so she could put it on.

  “That’s okay. I’ll take the ride home. I can walk to work in the morning,” Charlie said. He couldn’t see her face so he wasn’t sure if she was messing with him or not.

  “Wait. You want me to give you a ride home?” Hank asked.

  “Yes,” Charlie said. “Are you watching the game tonight?”

  “The game?” Hank asked. He wasn’t sure what Charlie was talking about, but as always he was more than willing to play along as long as he got to keep talking to her.

  Charlie adjusted her glasses and looked up at him. “The Red Wings. You know, hockey. Your favorite sport. They’re playing tonight.”

  “Yeah. I’m gonna watch. Do you want to come over?” Hank asked incredulously.

  “Yes,” Charlie said matter of fact. She flashed a confident smile. His confused response made her grin.

  He couldn’t believe his ears. Hank’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  “So Red Wings at seven?” he asked again. Just to be sure.

  “Red Wings at seven.” Charlie confirmed.

  “I’ve got chili.” Hank said. Maybe if he offered her dinner too, his invitation wouldn’t sound as if he wanted nothing more than to ‘Netflix and Chill’ with her.

  “You made chili?” Charlie asked. “Homemade chili?”

  “Hell, no. It’s Hormel,” Hank said. “I don’t cook. I’m a can opener.” He finished speaking and then worried he’d been too honest. “Will that make a difference?”

  Hank waited for Charlie’s response for what seemed like eight days. When she finally spoke, she asked a question he wasn’t expecting.

  “Do you like corn bread?” Charlie asked.

  “What? Do I...? Is this a trick question?” he asked.

  “No,” Charlie said laughing.

  “Are you kidding? I love corn bread,” Hank said.

  “Good. I’ve got my grandma’s recipe. I’ll whip up a batch and then be over in an hour. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Hank said.

  Hank couldn’t believe Charlie had finally said yes. He opened the door for Charlie and gestured to the spot where his truck was parked. He couldn’t stop grinning.

  Today must be his lucky day.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Hockey. Chili. Beer.

  It was the hat trick of dude-bro-ness. Charlie knew it was all in her near future. She loved hockey, but she wasn’t all that into chili. She never drank beer. This was a disaster.

  Why was she in the kitchen whipping up a batch of cornbread muffins to go with the canned chili Hank was warming up on the stove at his place?

  Hank. Her next-door neighbor.

  When Hank looked at her, his gaze was so intense. When he smiled, she was certain she was going to explode like a firecracker.

  She had a fluttery feeling in her stomach and her knees felt like they were made out of jelly. And yet, she was determined to go through with spending a time with Hank.

  Hank was too hot. And, he was too nice. As a total package, he was just too much. He was better than all of her book boyfriends combined.

  What’s better than a book boyfriend?

  Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  Charlie poured the batter into paper cup-lined muffin tins, added shredded pepper jack cheese and jalapenos to each one. Then popped the pan in the oven. She set the timer and went upstairs to change and get ready for her ‘social activity’.

  That’s what she was going to call it. ‘Social activity’. She couldn’t call going over to Hank’s house to watch a hockey game a date. If she thought of it as ‘a date’, she’d freak out. A social activity. That’s all. There was no reason to freak out. Other than the fact her next-door neighbor just happened to be the hottest dude in Good Harbor. And, she’d be alone sharing a sofa with him for the next several hours.

  Charlie didn’t want to go over to Hank’s in her old comfy sweats. Yet, showing up on his doorstep wearing heavy eyeliner and a crystal-covered cocktail dress seemed way too presumptuous. Maybe she’d been reading too much into all of his invitations to watch hockey. Maybe she was missing the “let’s just be friends” vibe he was sending out.

  Honestly, Charlie. It’s just hockey.

  Why do you have your panties in such a twist?

  Charlie took a deep breath and made a promise to ignore the anxiety that was giving her crazy thoughts. She pulled a deep amethyst silk camisole out of one of the shopping bags from Billie’s Boutique. She’d dropped everything she’d purchased in a corner in the back of her closet and hadn’t look at them since. Uncertain how she should integrate the new pieces into her wardrobe.

  Charlie put on her new bra. The fit made her feel like a Victoria’s Secret model. Then she pulled on the silk camisole. The rich color was gorgeous and the fabric felt luxurious next to her skin. She paired the camisole with her skinny jeans. Tossing her favorite brown cardigan with the patches on the sleeves over it like a security blanket. Under her favorite sweater, the camisole made her feel like she was keeping a sweet sexy secret.

  Charlie checked her look in the bathroom mirror.

  Casual. Chic. Confident.

  Billie and Monique would be proud of the results of their makeover.

  Charlie slipped her feet into her Minnetonka moccasins and headed downstairs just in time to grab the muffins out of the oven, and walked out onto the porch. Then she took three small steps and stopped in front of the door on the other side.

  She paused before knocking. Her confidence had evaporated and she wasn’t sure she could go through with it.

  What if I’ve been completely delirious? What if he just wants to be friends?

  Charlie briefly thought about going back and changing into her sweats. Would Hank notice she made an effort? Would he take that as an invitation for sex only?

  She forced herself to knock on the door. Hank would only notice the silky camisole if he stole a glance at her breasts. He’d done it before. The day on the stairs, but as Charlie stood waiting she thought maybe it had been a fluke.

  Hank opened the door wide. His eyes swept over her body from head to toe. He smiled in a way which made her think he liked what he saw, but she couldn’t tell if Hank was more excited to see the pan full of cornbread muffins or
her cleavage on display. Either way, he stood back and gestured for her to come inside.

  Hank’s place was stylish and modern. It suited him.

  “Your place looks exactly like mine. Only backwards,” Charlie said. “Two bedrooms?”

  Hank nodded. “Yeah. I use the second as my studio.”

  A studio. Of course. Every hot guy in the world was in a band. He probably played in a cover band to meet girls. As if Hank needed to be in a band to get chicks to notice him.

  “You don’t play drums, do you?”

  “No,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t play drums.

  Charlie nodded, feeling relieved. She noticed an abstract oil painting of Lake Michigan over the fireplace. In the bookshelves Hank had several sculptures on display. On second glance she realized were actually brightly colored glass.

  “These are gorgeous,” she said. Do you know the artist?”

  “Kind of. I guess you could call blown glass art 'my thing.'“

  “The colors he used and the shapes he's created. So unusual. It's like was a new take on an old craft.”

  Hank grinned. “I'm glad. I'll tell him you like it.”

  “I'm sorry,” she said. “I don't usually get so poetic, but art moves me in a way I can't explain.”

  You’re not one of those girls, aren’t you?” Hank asked.

  “What kind?” Charlie shrugged.

  “The kind who’s prejudiced against any guy who isn’t a sensitive pony-tail guy.”

  “I don’t have a thing for sensitive pony-tail guys.”

  “History would say otherwise,” he said.

  “I take exception to that.”

  “So do I,” he laughed.. “Are you hungry? Stupid questions. I've got chili out in the kitchen.”

  Charlie followed Hank out to the kitchen. She put the muffins on the counter while Hank showed her the chili he was heating up in a pot on the stove.

  “Looks good,” she said.

  “It’s not bad. If you don’t mind that it comes out of a can.”

  “I don’t if you don’t.”

  “Do you want something to drink?” he asked. “I may have a bottle of wine, but I can’t promise it’s any good. I think someone gave it to me as a gift.”