Pressing the button, Daisy flipped through possible excuses, each one flimsier than the last.
“And?” Her best friend didn’t bother to start with niceties. She always got right to the point.
“Good news, I’ve got a sweet little cabin until late August and it’s decorated in the funniest way, with old doors made into-- ”
“You promised!”
Daisy let out a groan. “Sorry. I don’t know what happened. I got distracted.”
“Distracted?” There were a lot of questions packed into those three syllables.
She rushed on. “There’s a butterfly garden off to one side, probably a whole quarter acre of native plants and flower species. I’ve never even seen most of them before and they’re just starting to bloom. And the cutest porch with two rockers, side by side, facing the trees.”
“Rockers.”
“Uh, right, and the kitchen is all reworked in fifties décor. There’s even an old mixer that works. You know, for making cookies.”
There was a long beat of silence. Daisy could sense Ana shaking her head.
“Of course, this all probably sounds very strange because I haven’t told you why I’m staying.”
“I’m ready to hear it. Must be an amazing story to turn my urban friend into a distracted, cookie-making porch rocker.”
Daisy allowed herself to smile a bit before she explained about the library, the flood zone, the city manager, and the kids.
“Why didn’t you say so? I thought you’d been mentally hijacked by some small town cult.”
“You don’t think it’s crazy?”
“Of course I do. But crazy in an understandable way. You’ve always said how much that library meant to you.” She paused and her voice was soft. “I think Marie would be really proud.”
Daisy blinked back sudden tears. “Thanks. I hope she is.”
“No doubt about it. And since you don’t even have a goldfish, I don’t have to take care of your apartment.”
Oh, right. Apartment, clothes, car. “About that, I was sort of wondering if you could use your spare key and go over there to pack me up some clothes. And, if you really felt like being generous, you could pick up my car from the airport. Pretty please?”
A soft snort sounded on the other end of the line. “Reality setting in?”
“I’m thinking paying for three months of Fresno International airport parking might put a dent in my savings.”
“I guess I can manage that while you’re off saving the library.”
Daisy felt a surge of affection for her big-hearted friend. Not everybody would indulge the whim of a woman on the verge of what looked like a super early mid-life crisis. For that she was grateful.
How the rest of the town reacted to her plans would remain to be seen. She already knew what the city manager and one over-protective police man had to say about it. She wasn’t too worried about the city manager. The policeman might just be the one person she couldn’t prepare for in all her careful plans.
***
“There’s no need to be checking on me every day. I have a sponsor for that.” Rocky McConnell’s gruff tone was in stark contrast to the slight smile on his face. Freshly shaved, gray hair brushed back and a clean shirt made a picture of a man who was looking forward to the day ahead.
Lane lowered himself into the porch swing, set down two steaming cups and held up a white bakery bag. Sammy’s tail thumped the wooden porch from his spot next to the steps. He knew what was in that bag. “Who else brigs Nancy’s fresh maple twists and hot coffee? Not that sponsor I’m always hearing about.”
“He doesn’t deliver doughnuts. Not in his job description. But he keeps me sober, which is more important.” He settled in next to Lane and opened the bag, inhaling the sweet smell of Nancy’s secret buttermilk recipe.
“Amen to that.”
The two men sat in a comfortable silence as the early morning sun rose above the mountains. Main Street was just waking up and didn’t seem to care that it was a Monday. Bright spring sunlight, the smell of dirt and growing grass, it all made for a perfect beginning to a perfect week.
Except Lane had news that Rocky might not want to hear. His normal routine of a leisurely chat with Rocky on the porch before his shift began was almost painful. The more he’d prayed about it, the more he’d walked around and around the issue, the more Lane was convinced that Daisy’s stay in Liberty shouldn’t be wasted. There was real work to do and it wasn’t about the library.
He cleared his throat, searching for the words he’d chosen so carefully.
“Never saw a cop who wouldn’t eat a doughnut.” Rocky’s lazy drawl cut through his thoughts. Lane glanced at the glazed buttermilk twist in his hand, untouched. Sammy was sitting at attention, waiting with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. Lane tossed him a bit of the twist and took a breath.
“I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Daisy’s in town.”
“And she’s staying for the summer.”
“I heard that.” His tone was still slow, calm. His blue eyes betrayed nothing.
“I thought maybe we could get together, all of us, for dinner.” It sounded awkward and completely unrealistic now that he’d let the words out of his mouth.
There was a beat of silence. Rocky took a sip of the steaming coffee. “She said she wanted to have dinner with me?”
“Not exactly. I thought I’d check with you first.”
“It’s not like I’m cherry picking down the Twelve Steps list but number nine says ‘make amends wherever possible unless it would cause them harm.’ ”
“She’s angry.” No sense beating around the bush about it. “But I think she might be willing to hear you out.”
“Boy, I may have wasted half my life in a bottle but I’m not stupid.” Again, his voice was gentle.
Lane felt his shoulders slump. “Yesterday at church the gospel reading was on forgiveness and how many times we need to forgive each other. Seventy times seven.”
The older man turned to him with a sad smile. “But you’ve got ahold of the wrong end of this. I don’t need to forgive her because she’s never done anything to me. Coming to ask if I want to see Daisy is a waste of your time. Of course I do. I just don’t want to cause her any pain. I’ve written her a letter and it was returned unopened.”
Rocky hadn’t told him that before. Staring at the steam from his cup, Lane gathered his thoughts. “That’s it? The whole step number nine? That gospel story has two sides.”
He frowned, blue eyes narrowed. “Not following you.”
“It’s real safe on this porch, Rocky. Sitting and waiting for Daisy to come home. You’ve written a letter she wouldn’t read, so you get to cross off a step. Of course you’re a different man, a reformed man, but you’re still proud.”
Sitting up straight, doughnut half-eaten, Rocky snorted in surprise. “She’s happy the way she is. You think I’m going to make her life better by insisting she forgive me?”
Lane took a breath, letting it out slowly. Rocky was a good friend and getting in the middle of family drama was a good way to ruin that friendship. But Lane couldn’t ignore the nudging he’d felt all day after hearing that sermon.
“You might need to say you’re sorry face to face.”
Rocky nodded, face set. “I can do that.”
“And if she refuses it, you might have to try again. And try some more. I don’t know how many times it might take until she realizes you mean what you say.”
The silence on the porch seemed to go on and on, punctuated by the slow creak of the swing and the early morning bird chatter.
“Seventy times seven times?” The old man’s voice was low, as if he were speaking to himself.
“Could be.”
“You’re a good man, Lane.”
He shot Rocky a glance. “Is that a no?”
“That’s a maybe.”
He nodded and took a sip of his cooling coffee. “That’s all I can ask for.”
Sammy watched Lane take the last bite of maple twist and his head drooped. Rocky took pity on him and tossed another crumb his direction, which he deftly caught in mid-air.
“The worst part about being the world’s worst dad is that I don’t even remember most of what I did.”
Lane cringed at the thought. Guilt magnified by fear, compounded by uncertainty.
“I don’t think I ever hit her, but there was a lot of yelling. I didn’t even know she was there unless I was mad about something.” His voice was low, hesitant.
The moment he’d chased Toby down the street, yelling as loud as he could, sprinting to save his life before the semi could take it, suddenly it had new meaning. Lane felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. Daisy must have acted on instinct to protect Toby, despite years of verbal abuse. What kind of steel core did it take to chase a strange man to save a child when it would have been so much safer to turn away?
“One question.” Rocky turned, head cocked to the side, eyes appraising.
“Shoot.”
“What do you think of her?”
Oh, boy. Any other question he could have given an answer, but not that one, not really. He felt heat creep up his neck and he stalled for time.
“Your face is saying she’s a snobby urban socialite.”
Lane blinked in surprise. “No, not at all.”
“Tattoos?”
He shook his head, starting to smile.
“Piercings? Dressed all in black?”
Lane was grinning now.
“Then what?”
The mental picture of Daisy all in black faded away and so did the humor in the question. He thought back to Saturday morning and their stand-off in the cabin. Who would have thought that Daisy could stand toe to toe with him, stare him down, and come out the victor? He wasn’t a weak man, the kind that blinked in the face of drama. But this woman stated her case and waited for him to counter. All he could do is think of how Marie loved her, how the town needed the library, how much he wanted her to stay. It’s like he’d found a weak spot he’d never known existed. He wasn’t a man who took a weak spot lightly.
“I didn’t know her before she left.” He glanced at Rocky, but his face betrayed nothing. The old man stared down at his boots, listening.
“She’s pretty. No, she’s more than pretty. She’s…” He wasn’t used to describing a woman’s looks. Rocky gave a soft snort.
“Son, you don’t need to go any further there. She’s still my daughter and I would hate to chuck you off my porch.”
He felt his face heat up. “That’s not where I was going. I meant she’s more than a pretty girl. Stubborn and smart, but it’s more like she fills the room. Not loud, not vivacious, but you can’t forget she’s there.”
After a pause, Rocky nodded, gray hair falling over his forehead. “That’s the way she always was, filling the room.” His eyes went dark with sadness. “When I was sober, I saw her. Otherwise I acted like she didn’t exist. I was in bed when she left for school and already drunk when she got home. Sometimes I would get a good look at her and wonder how she ever came to be so bright. Just like her mother. And then I’d get real drunk so I didn’t have to wonder anymore.”
Lane reached out a hand and laid it on the old man’s shoulder. What could he say? Years and years of making his own child ache with loneliness couldn’t be forgotten in a flash. Heaven knew if Daisy could ever forgive Rocky for that.
“But not anymore.” His expression was fierce. “I can’t make up for that, but I can say I’m sorry. That’s all I have now. A whole lot of sorrys.”
“Maybe she can accept it.”
Rocky nodded, but his eyes were shadowed. “Miracles happen everyday.”
He had faith that God could move mountains of family dysfunction and leave a peaceful home in its place, but Lane knew that Daisy was far from being able to welcome Rocky back into her life. As far as he could tell, she didn’t even want to be in the same town as the man. But if she was going to spend the summer working on the doomed library, she didn’t have a lot of choice. And if he had anything to do with it, Rocky would get a chance to speak what was in his heart. The rest was up in the air. God would just have to hammer out the details and Lane was praying that included a family reunion between two people carrying bitterness, anger, and sadness from a decade ago.
Chapter Seven
Old Liberty Library glowed warmly in the early morning light. Daisy couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face as she trotted up the widely sweeping front steps. Andrew Carnegie had donated more than ten thousand dollars, a fortune for that time. A hundred years later and his investment had been repaid in countless children discovering the joy of stories.
She tugged the library key out of her pocket and slipped it in the door. Marie’s keychain was heavy with colorful beads and figurines. Most of them looked like summer art projects. Which reminded her she needed to get planning in a hurry if she was going to keep the summer reading program on track.
Turning the key into the heavy door, she caught a look at her own reflection. New pink cardigan from one of the little shops on Main Street and gray dress slacks were comfortable but dressy. Her usual bright gaze and a hint of a smile spoke of inner purpose. Better than the first day she’d arrived, that was for sure. Just the memory of her soaking wet hair and bloodshot eyes made her cringe. Lane Bennett had seen her at her worst. One good thing about their meeting at the cabin was that he now knew she brushed her hair like a regular person.
Pushing the door open, she paused on the carpeted stairs. The library felt hushed and expectant, ready for someone to put an end to the enforced silence. She jogged the first flight to the landing, patent leather ballet flats making hardly any sound. Her mind flashed back to that first day and the obnoxious way her shoes had squelched and slipped. Lane didn’t seem like a guy without a sense of humor, but he’d never said a word. Probably very wise. At that moment she might have used one of those wet shoes as a weapon.
She gazed around, willing her mind away from the rainy day of Marie’s funeral and into the moment. This library was worthy of being saved, worthy of being a haven of safety and comfort for all the children of the city. She let herself dream for a moment of a library full of kids, books being checked out and enjoyed, walls covered with bright art projects. It was going to be one of the best summers in recent memory.
A knock on the heavy glass of the front door sounded like a bomb in the quiet space. Daisy put a hand over her thumping heart and stepped back down the carpeted stairs. A tall, thin female figure was peering through the glass, one hand raised to give another knock.
Daisy swung the door inward. “Hi there! The library isn’t quite open to the public yet but I’d be happy to--”
The woman didn’t bother to wait for the rest of Daisy’s speech but squeezed on through. “Oh, I know that. But I was thinking if we’d better get the book drop cleared out and everything checked in before people start complaining about their fines.”
The book return. How could she have forgotten to check it? “Good idea, but I can handle it.”
Gray hair pulled back from her face and held in a leather tie, the woman turned to her and raised one dark eye-brow. “It’s okay to accept help. You can’t run the library alone. Even Marie had volunteers.”
“She did?”
A warm chuckle filled the foyer. She shrugged off a purple cable knit sweater and hung it over the chair at the desk. “I’m Nita. Jan and I help organize and run errands around here.”
Daisy let out a breath. “Well, I’m glad to have some help, I suppose.”
“No suppose about it. The book return is so full that books are sticking out the chute. And with all the rain we’ve been having that could be a disaster.”
She wanted to slap a palm against her forehead. If she was going to work in the library for the summer, she really needed to get a handle on the daily tasks. “We’ll have to erase all the late charges.”
Nita
threw a glance over her shoulder. “You haven’t been in here for a while, have you? We’ve got a great system, all automated, linked to the whole state. Super easy to use. We can alter the check-in date backward, so we don’t have to erase late fees or calculate the dates.” She’d snagged a small key from the peg board near the office door.
“Grab those book bags on the coatrack. Come on and let me show you everything we do during the opening shift.” Nita marched past Daisy although her tone wasn’t unkind in the least.
A heavy canvas bag in each hand, Daisy followed the older woman out to the sidewalk, past the muddy flower beds and to the large blue box on the corner. Nita inserted the tiny key in the side panel, swung it open and tugged the large rolling cart from down below. Books upon books were piled inside. The spring loaded bottom of the cart was pressed almost to the lowest rung.
Between the two of them, they’d cleared the book return in a few minutes. Lugging them back to the library was another story.
“I thought I was in shape,” Daisy huffed between steps.
“You exercise with fifty pounds of books?” Nita’s voice was just as breathless.
A snort escaped her. She didn’t like to exercise much at all, only when her jeans reminded her that a sweet tooth was a quick way to gain weight.
She paused at the steps, resting the large canvas bag on the sidewalk. Nita rested next to her. “Marie did this every day the library was open, rain or shine. She would never let the volunteers clear the book drop.”
“Because they might miss a book?”
“Oh, no. She was just one of those people that always took the hard job before anyone else could.”
They stood there quietly for a moment, staring up at the red brick building, windows gleaming in the early morning light, wrapped up in memories of the woman who had left such a space to fill.
Daisy hefted the bag to her shoulder and let out a squawk of surprise as it continued into the air.
“Let me take that. And that.” Lane stooped to take Nita’s tote and nodded at her. “Morning, Nita.” He’d come up on the grass beside them, footsteps muffled by the damp earth. Sammy ran to greet them with bright eyes, mouth open, tongue lolling.
Leaving Liberty Page 5
