The Librarian's Daughter The Story of Abi VanHaven

by M.M. Gavillet

  Chapter Two

  I had ten-thousand-five-hundred-forty-five dollars and forty-one cents in my savings account. Yes a lot of money, but yet not enough. Aunt Kathleen left me fifteen thousand dollars—even. But after lawyer fees and Nate’s extra lawyer fee—that’s what I was left with. The way I saw it—he owed me the little blue car in his garage.

  I told Meg I found a place last night and she had mixed reactions to it. She was happy for me, but a look of worry crept into her eyes again. I was going to ask her trying to catch her in the moment, but it quickly passed and she insisted on celebrating by taking me out to lunch.

  The last thing I wanted was to push Meg into telling me what exactly was wrong. I couldn’t imagine living with Nate and I knew why she did. Money, power, connections…it’s obvious to me. But I still could see little Meg inside of her, the girl who wanted to stand on top of the world and go to places where no man had ever left a footprint. She liked faraway places and was always reading National Geographic as a kid. Now, she had to ask when she can go to the grocery store and what to get.

  Meg was still in bed when I got up the next morning to go to work. I went into the kitchen to grab a quick cup of coffee and nearly dropped my cup when I turned to see Nate sitting in the tiny nook by the window. Like a big, black, furry spider that suddenly appears in front of you, Nate sat quietly and I could tell had been watching me.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Nate smiled at me.

  “You didn’t scare me.” I turned my attention to my coffee that I tried to assemble quickly and get away from Nate. I could feel his eyes on me

  “So, where’s your apartment at?” Nate asked in an inquiring voice and a tone that implied he questioned my even having an apartment.

  “Downtown,” I said spilling some creamer on the counter. I said a choice word under my breath, got a towel to clean it up and managed to bump my head on the opened cupboard door as I stood up. It was followed by another one of my favorite- four -lettered-words.

  “Here,” Nate said standing behind me.

  He was close to me almost pinning me against the counter as he shut the cupboard door and grabbed my hand with the towel under it. His hand was warm and soft with well-manicured fingers. With my hand under his, Nate guided it in swirling motions soaking up the spilled creamer. His mouth was next to my ear and I could feel his breath run across my cheek fluttering a few strands of my hair. I resisted to shiver and then realized I was paralyzed. I should’ve pulled away and given him the slap across the face he deserved, but I didn’t.

  The mess was gone, like it never happened. Nate threw the towel into the sink and then leaned against the counter giving me a sideways glance.

  “That wasn’t as bad as you thought.” He smiled. “Accidents always happen when we’re in a hurry.”

  I left taking the coffee mug with me. Nate was a jerk and all I wanted was to get away from him and take Meg with me. All the way to Just Thyme, I thought of how I should tell her that Nate was waiting for me in the guest bedroom and saw me naked and the incident in the kitchen just now. At the same time I was mad at Nate, I was even more at myself. I let it happen; I didn’t fight back and tell Nate what I exactly think of him.

  Suddenly, red and blue lights flickered in my rear view mirror.

  “Great,” I said pulling over to the shoulder of the road. My anger at Nate just cost me a speeding ticket and farther away from the apartment that I didn’t really have yet.

  “License and registration please,” the officer asked standing beside the open window.

  “Here’s my license, I have to get in the glove box to find the registration.” He nodded for me to go ahead.

  As he looked at my license and then at me, I thought at this moment I wish I was one of those girls that can get out of a speeding ticket by just batting their eyelashes.

  “You’re family of the Hawthorns’?” He asked in a pleasant and surprised tone.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “I thought this was Mr. Hawthorn’s car. He doesn’t drive it much. He said his wife’s cousin was staying with him.” He handed me back my license as I handed him the registration that I finally found. “No need, Miss VanHaven. Mr. Hawthorn is a good guy. Just remember this is a forty-five.” He walked back to his car and drove off.

  I took in a deep breath, glad I didn’t get a ticket. The cop passed by me and waved. I know I had a dumb look on my face in awe of the whole thing. A cop just called me Miss VanHaven and acted like I was a celebrity or something. I certainly didn’t mind because my money was still in my pocket. I then realized something-- Nate was actually good for something.

  Rain had suddenly started to come down and I didn’t work in the greenhouse, which I love, instead I dusted shelves for Grace. She quietly did her bookwork and I kept glancing at her wanting to ask her if anything in town was available for rent. I had to come up with a place by five that evening.

  “You’ve been looking this way several times Abi, is something wrong?” Grace lifted her eyes from her large ledger towards me. I’ve always been easy to read, like it was written on my forehead.

  “Well,” I started. “You see, I really need to find a place of my own, an apartment or something.”

  She smiled at me. “Is that it? I thought you were going to tell me you were quitting.” She let out a sigh of relief. “I can help you tomorrow after work. There are a few places around town.”

  “I really need it tonight, before I leave.”

  “Is something wrong?” She asked with concern.

  “No, it’s just getting real uncomfortable at my cousin’s. You know—they’re married and all. I’m like the third wheel.”

  “Well, that’s understandable.” Grace rubbed her chin. “Let me think about it and make a few calls.”

  I smiled at her. “Thanks, thanks a lot Grace.”

  The day crept by and Grace was on the phone several times. Each time she hung up she would cross something off a list she had scribbled down. I knew the possibilities were growing slim and I dreaded going back to Meg’s house.

  “Sorry Abi, even in this small town apartments are hard to come by,” Grace said as the clock struck four.

  “Thanks for trying. I know it’s really short notice.” I was hoping to find one—I didn’t want to sleep in the same house as Nate.

  Grace shut her book and stepped out behind the counter. “There’s one place that I know is available, but it isn’t really fashioned into being an apartment.”

  “Where’s it at?” I asked eagerly. At this point a cardboard box would suffice.

  Grace looked up at the ceiling and then pointed towards it with a smile.

  “Upstairs… really?” This was a dream to me—an apartment above a flower shop. I acted like a kid at Christmas.

  “It isn’t much and I’m going to tell you that I use it for storage, but there’s a bathroom and I would have to work on the kitchen part. It hasn’t been used in years and I would love to have someone actually here.”

  “Can I stay here tonight?”

  Grace looked at me for a moment and then up at the ceiling. “Come on I’ll show you around.”

  There was an outside entrance that led to the upstairs apartment. Inside was all open with the living room facing the street and the kitchen, what there was of it, was off to my right. A small hallway led to a single bedroom and a bathroom across from that. Beautiful hardwood floors were everywhere and the same stamped metal ceiling that was in the flower shop was up here also. The wall needed painting, but the woodwork had just been redone a few years ago when Grace thought she would live here.

  “Really everything just needs cleaned up. There’s water and electric and the only major thing would be the appliances.”

  I looked at the half assembled kitchen and cringed at the expense of appliances, but other than that, it was perfect.

  “I love it, but how much will
the rent be?” I hated to ask.

  Grace smiled. “We’ll talk about that later. Let me do a few things to it first because you can’t stay here tonight—if that’s alright?” She asked placing her hand on my shoulder.

  I told Nate I had an apartment and Grace was going to so much trouble to accommodate me, one more night at Meg’s wouldn’t be bad.

  “No, it’s fine.” I reassured her. “I’m just really thankful that you are letting me stay here.”

  The dim light in the library was the only one on and made the outside of Meg’s house look like a one-eyed-monster. I carefully parked the car outside because I would be leaving early in the morning and besides, I didn’t want to confront Nate if he was here by himself.

  Carefully I turned the knob to discover it was locked. Maybe they both were gone and left a light on by accident. Still, I quietly unlocked it and shut the door hardly making it click.

  Stepping carefully and not turning any lights on, I managed to trip over Nate’s shoes that were in the hallway. It was followed by another pair of shoes. They were black stilettoes with their pointed heels I always thought could double as a weapon.

  The sudden sound of laughing erupted from down the dimly illuminated hallway. I looked up kicking Nate’s shoes to the side. Slowly I crept towards the library. The sudden sound of a woman laughing made me stop. It wasn’t Meg’s voice, it was too seductive to sound like her. Meg was a housewife of days gone by. I looked back at the shoes. Meg could hardly walk in heels. The mumbled voices sounded teasing and as much as I wanted it to be Meg and Nate playing dress-up, I knew it wasn’t.

  The door was already cracked open and I plastered my body to the wall. They laughed, mostly whoever the woman was as Nate’s voice mumbled slightly in protest then it was quiet.

  Standing in front of his perfect desk was a blonde woman gazing up at Nate. Their lips were barely touching. Nate hesitated slightly then lifted his hand caressing her arm then gliding down around her hip to her rear. She pulled back and smiled.

  “Take me now, Mr. Hawthorne. You know you do.” Her voice was a mixture of honey blended with the metallic taste of blood.

  Nate leaned into her and passionately they kissed at first then as if suddenly being free of restraints, Nate unbuttoned her blouse running his hand over the curves of her breast.

  I let out my breath slowly and leaned against the wall looking up at the ceiling in the hallway.

  Meg, she needed to know about this. How could Nate do this to her? She was the perfect housewife. She did what he wanted, impressed his boss and never complained. Meg could have better, she deserved better.

  I had to make my decision now. I didn’t hesitate as I reached into my purse, grabbed my phone, turned on the camera and recorded the adulteress act.

  I only had a few seconds of kissing and slightly undressing, but that was enough. Discretely, I went back outside, got into the car and moved it into the garage making sure I made enough noise and gave them enough time to get dressed.

  I jiggled the lock and shut the door with a slam. The kitchen light above the sink was on and the clothes in the hallway had disappeared. I gave a sigh of relief.

  “Oh, I thought you were Meg.” Nate came around the corner and looked at me. “I thought you had an apartment.” He folded his arms across his not even wrinkled shirt. It didn’t even look like it was being crumpled and nearly taken off a few moments ago. He was good and I raised my eyebrows—he evidentially had practice at cheating before.

  “Water and electric aren’t hooked up yet.” I lied and tried to move past him.

  Nate put his arm up and fanned out his fingers that barely touched the wall beside me. He smiled and gazed down at me. “You know if you need any help…”

  “I don’t need your help.” I yelled a little louder than I intended to.

  “Is everything alright, Mr. Hawthorn?” The blonde woman stood halfway in the hall and the library.

  Her hair was smooth and her clothes were as neat as Nate’s. It was like nothing that I witness and recorded just moments ago had ever happened.

  “Everything’s fine.” Nate turned to her still not removing his arm so I could pass. “Danielle this is Abigail. Abigail, this is Danielle, my assistant.”

  I smiled at her. Assistant, yeah right I thought. I looked at her professional clothing ensemble that allowed every feminine curve of her body to show through. She nodded her head and returned the smile.

  “You must be Mrs. Hawthorn’s cousin.” She stepped forward slightly and then looked at Nate for reassurance.

  “Yes, I am.” I snugged my purse under my arm. “I have to get up early in the morning and I still have to get my things together.” I looked at Nate.

  He lowered his arm and smiled. “Danielle and I were just finishing up on Kathleen’s estate and there were a few more things in her will. There’s a meeting next week.”

  “Just let me know what time.” Nate nodded his head and then I looked at Danielle. She was stunning and I could see how Nate could easily be attracted to her. “Nice to meet you.” I tried to act as though I’d never caught them having sex and held the evidence in my purse.

  “Nice to meet you too, Abigail.”

  I nodded my head at her and smiled. I tried to act normal and even though they were fully dressed with nothing out-of-step. I still felt they knew that I knew.

  With their eyes on me, I erased the vision in my head and pretended like I didn’t see them having sex at Nate’s desk moments before. I clutched my purse containing my only evidence, and went upstairs.

  I looked at my phone’s blank screen for a few moments. What I held in my hand could end Meg’s delusional fairytale marriage. It would hurt her and I held that hurt in the palm of my hand. Reality was painful, but she had to know.

  The next morning was cloudy and the rumble of thunder with a few flashes of lighting illuminated the predawn sky. I looked out the window towards the east at the sun barely rising above the horizon and then to the west at the dark approaching storm. The sun would hardly make it into the sky before the towering clouds would consume it.

  Downstairs Meg was preparing the cheating husband’s breakfast. I stood in the doorway with the phone in my hand.

  “Morning Abigail.” Nate didn’t even look up from the papers he was reading.

  Meg had her back to me at the sink and in front of her was Nate seated at the table. She was dressed in a baby pink dress and he in a suit and tie. It looked like I was looking at a slice of history—something that would only exist in the 1950”s. The loving housewife and the hard working husband providing for her. It couldn’t be farther from the truth.

  I held my phone in my slightly sweating palm and then lifted my eyes to Nate.

  “Nate said your apartment didn’t have water on yet or electric. Will they get that done today?” Meg asked.

  I looked at Nate who continued to read his paper.

  “They’re getting that done today,” I replied.

  I wasn’t sure how I wanted to approach Meg. I knew it would be alone and not at the house. I started to open my mouth to invite her to lunch when Nate lowered his paper and unknowingly cut me off.

  “Oh, I got you an appointment at that spa you like, what’s it called…” Nate, for the first time I’ve ever witness, struggle with a name as he snapped his fingers trying to recall it.

  “Jade’s!” Meg turned twirling her dress with stunned excitement.

  “It’s today at ten and then be ready for a night on the town.” Meg moved his paper out of the way and sat on his lap with her arms delicately around his neck. I thought I was going to puke.

  “Mr. Hawthorn, you know how to treat a lady for her anniversary.” She rubbed her nose against his and then they kissed with me sitting there with the incriminating evidence in my palm, mouth hanging open and a deepening guilt filling me.

  I couldn’t tell Meg now. She looke
d so happy, not the kind of going to be pampered at a spa, but the kind that hasn’t been felt in long time—just like the grass greening after a long drought and was returning to life to rejoice the rain in had been given. I couldn’t ruin that moment for her even though it was only prolonging things. I tucked my phone into my purse missing the pocket I usually put it in. It slid to the bottom and was quickly buried by everything almost like it was voluntarily running away.

  The storm, as I predicted to myself, grew in strength. The wind howled through the street blowing down a few small limbs from the massive oaks trees dotting the courthouse lawn. Again, I didn’t work in the greenhouse and started to dust the shelves and the knickknacks that sat on them. Grace said she would be gone this morning and wouldn’t be back until about one. And with a smile she told me to not eat lunch before she got back—she had a surprise.

  I was excited. No one has ever put this much effort into making me feel welcomed or even helping me out. Grace was really overdoing it and I had to tell her along with what I had to tell Meg.

  “Are you ready?” Grace asked as she locked the front door and twirled the open sign to closed.

  “You’re closing at one thirty.” I questioned her and looked at the large Roman numeral clock that hung over the counter.

  “No one will come in this weather. Come on Abi VanHaven—your flat awaits.” Grace turned and ran up the stairs. “Come on!” She yelled like a kid attacking a present cluttered Christmas tree.

  The back door to the apartment was open part way and I went in.

  The boxes of junk were replaced with a puffy brown couch and matching chair with coordinating throws hanging over the sides. The kitchen was appliance filled and even had dishes in some of the glass front cabinets. Earthy smells from the diffuser filled the room. Everything was furnished and I don’t mean just-get-by comfortable, but comfortable.

  “Well, you’re not saying anything, just standing with your mouth open,” Grace said holding a glass of wine and reclining in the couch.

  “Grace…you shouldn’t…I can’t…”

  “Stop, don’t say anything.” She sat the glass down and got up walking over to me. “I’ve been by myself for a long time, I mean I’ve got customers I know, but …this is hard to say…” Grace looked away and then placed her hands on my shoulders. “I never had any children and if I ever had a daughter, I’d want her to be like you.”

  I didn’t know what to say and didn’t realize I had struck a chord with Grace that was deep. I looked at the apartment. It was nice, Grace was exceptionally nice and I still didn’t feel like I deserved it. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a big hug.

  “Grace this is so nice and you went to so much trouble.” I looked at the room that looked like it was ready for a magazine shoot. “I can’t possibly pay you back.”

  Grace shook her head and waved her finger in front of me. “None of that. You’re a good employee and…I really needed a good employee, so,” she waved her arm like a model would do showing off a prize on some game show, “just enjoy it, I wanted to do this and I don’t do things I don’t want.”

  That evening we ate pizza and drank wine that I put in my refrigerator. Grace kept reminding me that everything here was mine, not hers. It was hard for me to comprehend that this was mine and it was my home now.

  Together we watched a movie on the forty two inch T.V. that was bigger than life. Grace and I polished off the pizza along with the bottle of wine and started to move onto the ice cream cake that she had gotten at the Dairy Queen on the opposite side of the square.

  I took a deep breath as I watched Grace try to cut through the rock solid cake.

  “I hate having to work for dessert like this.” She rocked the knife back and forth and then ran it under some hot water. “Well, at least I will burn off a few calories in doing so.”

  I sat on the couch listening to her, but thinking of Meg.

  “That was a joke, your laugh here.” She looked at me.

  “Sorry, I should probably be joining you.” I smiled a little.

  “Is something bothering you?” Grace asked managing to finally get a piece of cake out.

  I took a deep breath. I really didn’t want to burden her with all my family troubles, but I had to tell someone and at least get their opinion on how I should handle things. “When I went to my cousin’s house last night—I came onto something I shouldn’t have.” My words could’ve cut the frozen cake better as Grace looked over at me. “I found Nate kissing his assistant, I mean passionately kissing in his office and I got it all on my cell phone.”

  “You’re kidding,” Grace said with astonishment and stood with vanilla ice cream dripping from her gleaming chef’s knife.

  We sat on the couch and I told her everything from Nate waiting for me to get out of the shower and seeing me naked to the kissing episode that I had recorded and now faced with how to tell Meg.

  “Meg and Nate are out on the town tonight. I haven’t seen her this happy in long time. And now, I have to crumble it all up and throw it in her face.” I twirled the fork on my plate making lines of chocolate through the white frosting.

  “You have to tell her.” Grace stopped my hand with the fork in it that nervously traced through the lines of thick frosting. “You’ve heard this saying before—‘the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.’”

  I’ve heard it before and knew what it meant, but now I really knew what it meant because that’s where Meg was headed if I didn’t stop her.

  It was Wednesday night and it was just about twenty after seven as I sat in the small lawyer’s office in Applewood. Jenna was late as usual—or actually not late, just on Jenna time which meant she got here when she felt like it. I didn’t have anywhere to be, but just the idea of me having to bend to her rules, irritated me.

  I sat crossed legged in the green, vinyl chair that looked like it had been here since the law office opened sometime in the 1960”s. Mr. Leed, the lawyer who handled most of Aunt Kathleen’s estate, sat with folded hands and looked at the clock as well after he had shuffled through the papers for the last forty-five minutes.

  I was just about to call Jenna again when she came in the door and plopped down on the chair.

  “Let’s get this over with,” she said as if she was waiting on us, I just shook my head thinking the same thing.

  “Kathleen VanHaven had another will that Mr. Hawthorn had come across and it reads as follows.”

  Mr. Leed read from the hand written letter that was just a mere few sentences. It stated that there were two lock boxes that held a family legacy, though one would take a while to find and the other the wealth was easy to find. We both looked at Mr. Leed. Aunt Kathleen never wrote things in almost riddle mixed with poetry-like words. The most she ever wrote to me was “Be My Valentine” on a homemade card that she gave to me when I was seven and never gave me another one thinking that one valentine was good enough.

  “Here are the keys. Kathleen designated which one goes to whom and you can find these boxes at the State Bank of Applewood.”

  Mr. Leed ended everything with a smile and a click of his briefcase.

  “You know Aunt Kathleen had an exquisite collection of jewelry.” Jenna’s eyes shifted to me as I tried to walk faster than her to my borrowed car. “She always let me play with it and even told me that I looked like a real princess in it, especially when I wore her tiara.”

  “Look Jenna,” I stopped and looked her square on. “We’re not twelve here. I don’t care what she gave to you or what she wanted you to have.” Aunt Kathleen had a jewelry collection that would make a queen green with envy and deep down I hoped there was a few of those pieces in my designated box.

  “You’re just jealous.” Her words slithered like snakes to me as I unlocked the car.

  Jenna dressed in a skirt suit stood crossed armed a few feet away from me.

  “No, I’m a little too mature for that�
��you should try it sometime.” I got in the car and took off for my apartment leaving Jenna behind and hoping I would never see her again. I know that wouldn’t happen—Applewood isn’t far enough away from Minton.

  I looked at the tiny key that looked to be a hundred years old. I sat the key down and stared at it not wondering what might be in the lock box of value, but what Aunt Kathleen put in there that was just for me.

  The State Bank of Applewood opened at nine—sharp. I didn’t see Jenna and was thankful. She was probably out buying new clothes to go with her new jewels. I didn’t care if she got them all, Aunt Kathleen thought something of her and I and I wanted to know what she thought of me all those years.

  I quickly got into the box to find a smaller box wrapped in old brown paper and secured with twine. I had brought a cloth bag to put whatever treasures might be in it and put the smaller box in there not wanting to open it here. I then gave back the key, left the bank just as I caught a glimpse of Jenna’s little sports car rounding the corner.

  I told Grace that I would be a little late that I had one last item of my aunt’s estate to receive. I took the outside entrance upstairs and went inside, took off my jacket and put the neatly wrapped package on the kitchen counter.

  I stared at it for a moment wanting to open it and not wanting to open it. Would I be hurt or happy? What she had in the box, to me, represented what I was to her. It was something personal. Slowly I peeled back the paper.

  The first thing I found was an aged-stained index card with faded scribbling on it. I picked it up and it read: this was your mother’s—she wanted you to have it—Aunt K.

  A thousand thoughts flooded in all at once. Why didn’t she give this to me earlier, why so secretively and without any explanation? I looked down at more of the same brown paper.

  The paper came off in tiny, brittle bits and slowly revealed a small, wood box that was intricately carved in swirling, deep grooves. The latch was arrow-shaped and caught the end of a hook. I thought it was brass, but was discolored. Slowly, I opened the lid and a small envelope stared back at me.

  I picked it up and opened it. It was hand written in swirling long letters that looked like they danced across the paper in thin, delicate lines. It was a letter from my mother to me. The floor could’ve fallen from under my feet and I wouldn’t have known it. I made myself read the words instead of just looking at them.

  My Dearest Daughter,

  There are no words to express how deeply I cared for you. I never planned to let any of this happen, but some things we can’t dictate and have to follow fate’s agenda. There are so many things that I wanted to say to you and even now in this final letter, I’m short on time. Dangerous things have fallen on me that I never intended. That’s why I had to give you to Aunt Kathleen, please don’t be mad at her for not telling you everything earlier—she was just doing as I asked. You see our family is involved in something greater than anything you could imagine. If you are reading this that means Kathleen has died and you’re in danger. I have to be vague in my instructions—just in case this lands in the wrong hands. Inside this box is a key, but to use it there is a combination that you Abigail VanHaven know very well. The key opens a door to a safe and inside the safe is something that the guardians must have. they work with our kind Abi. There are few who know about this and only one that can help you. He lives in Blackwood goes by the name Wynters. You can trust him. I have to go. It pains me to leave you this way—my intentions on being your mother were never like this, but remember when I say I love you—I mean it down to the very core.

  The letter floated from hand to the floor. I’ve never known her, never heard her voice or felt her arms around me. My mind went blank and I fell to my knees and cried.

  I reread the letter several times just to absorb everything. Combination…safe…our kind and a man named Wynters. I knew the man that came over to have dinner with Nate and Meg had the last name of Wynters. Nate did mention the guardians.

  I looked at the letter until I thought my eyes could bore holes through it. Nate, he had a connection to this. I wondered if Meg or any of my other cousins knew about whatever this guardian thing was. My first thought was that it was some kind of cult and my mother had gotten involved in somehow. Whatever she had was in a safe somewhere and I had the combination to it. The only thing is that I had no idea what would be the combination that my mother said I knew so well.

  I carefully placed the letter back inside and pulled out a silver key. It was a tiny key. Hardly big enough to look like a key to a door. My only chance at finding anything out was to somehow talk to this Wynters guy.

  I looked at myself in the mirror and then looked at the clock. It was almost three. I sat the key back into the box with the letter and picked up the box when something made a clicking sound. I put it back down on the counter as a small drawer popped open slightly from its base. I pulled it open farther and inside was another small note in my mother’s hand writing that said—I knew you were clever enough to find this! Had to hide it. This is our family ring-it’s yours now.

  At the bottom of the velvet lined drawer was a gold ring tinged with a rosy hue to it. I picked it up and held it in front of my face.

  Tiny trees, barren of leaves, were engraved in the shiny metal and went all the way around the ring. Inscribed on the inside were the name VanHaven and another blurred marking next to it. I looked at the note again. I wasn’t clever and would have never found this if I didn’t accidentally triggered it open.

  I put it on my ring finger on my right hand. It gleamed in the light and was perfectly smooth with no scratches like it was hardly ever worn. A family ring. I had a family ring, a note from my mother, a key that opened something important and now I was left with the mystery of what it all meant and to top it off, a warning that I was in danger. In danger from what? Aunt Kathleen said my mother died in a car accident—maybe she didn’t die that way.

  “Abi are you in there?” I jumped at Grace knocking on the door.

  “Yeah,” I said putting the box on top of the refrigerator. “I’m coming.”

  I opened the door. “Sorry I didn’t come back down…it’s just that…I had some family issues to deal with. You know my aunt’s estate and stuff.” I stepped aside so Grace could come in.

  “Don’t worry about it. We weren’t busy anyhow.” She looked at me and then paced from the kitchen to the living room and then looking out the window.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked commenting on her nervousness.

  Grace gave me a long look mixed with empathy and fear. “There is something. I didn’t believe my instinct earlier, but now…it’s obvious and I can’t ignore it anymore.” She waved her arms through the air like she was cutting it.

  She went back to the window and then continued her nervous pacing. “I just can’t believe they found me. I know I was right under their noses, but I stayed quiet…didn’t cause any waves--”

  “Grace, what are you talking about?” I stopped her by placing my hands on her shoulders.

  She half smiled. “I knew the name VanHaven sounded familiar and now I know who you’re related to…I know what you are.”

  “You know what I am, what?” I questioned her thinking she had gone off the deep end.

  “Your Aunt Kathleen, I didn’t know her, but she knew and kept it a secret.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “I might have been in retirement, but I haven’t missed the local gossip. Your family has a long history, Abi, which I can see you have no idea about and if gossip was right; your family’s reign was to end with your mother when she died.”

  She gazed at me steadily in the silence that surrounded us.

  “I don’t understand…Grace, what do you mean?” I shook my head as I tried to read her unreadable face.

  “It’s what I am too.” I looked at her confused by her half answers.

  “We are librarians—only I’m re
tired—or supposed to be.”

  Grace walked away from me and sat on the couch. Librarians. I almost laughed thinking it a joke, but the look on Grace’s face was dead serious.

  “Librarians…what--” I looked at her, she was deep in thought.

  “Librarians, not the kind you’re thinking of, but something different and not known by many.”

  Grace smiled and then patted the cushion beside her. I sat down and she turned towards me.

  “I didn’t think you were one of us until I did a little research. Your family is one of the organizations oldest, though its selection of who actually becomes a librarian is selective.” She glanced away as if pondering thoughts to herself and confusing me. Grace then folded her hands together and then looked at me with her gentle eyes. “How do you think your aunt Kathleen got all of that jewelry? There’s no way she can buy them making a school secretary’s salary.” I looked away remembering all of the colorful stones embedded into the gold and silver that surrounded them. She had rings, necklaces, bracelets and a couple of tiaras

  I looked at Grace. There was no way she could afford them-- even if they were fake. I’d never really thought of how much they were worth, just that she had them and I liked to put them on and play with them as a child.

  “Wait, Grace, you have me confused.” I shook my head as she drew in a deep breath.

  “I feel like I shouldn’t be the one to say anything, but the last few days has troubled me.” She looked away and then met my eyes again. “Librarians, the kind that we are, are not in charge of books and the lending of them out to the public, but we are in charge of containing what’s inside of them.”

  I gave her a confused look. What else could books contain but words or pictures? Grace went on to explain that there were special books hidden in the basements, attics, or whatever safe location the library had to house these special books. They are all over the world and held together by a tight knitted group of librarians.

  “They’re prisons...and sometimes sanctuaries to those that need protection. To put it in a short description--- we are the controllers of those bound to that world. The books are passages to other dimensions and those that are imprisoned there are put there by us.”

  “You mean criminals or bad people.”

  “Criminals, but not your average criminal these are powerful beings that have come into our world doing it harm or worse, wishing to destroy it. You just can’t put them in a prison with bars—they would simply melt or dissolve them into thin air. They are imprisoned into books bound by magic, held there by our doing and guarded by the guardians.”

  “Guardians—that’s what Nate said to me,” I said more to myself. “He said they had high hopes for me.”

  “There are guardians around here, but most of them are sleepers—not active, but more or less retired, like me.” Grace drew in a deep breath.

  I pushed back my hair trying to absorb everything that just blew up in the last forty-five minutes.

  Grace suddenly grabbed my right hand and looked at the ring that glowed in the soft light.

  “It was my mother’s.” I lifted my eyes to her as she still examined it. “I just got it in a box that Aunt Kathleen left for me.”

  “A treelord gave this to your family—one of the founding families.”

  I pulled back my hand, got up and paced the floor. I could feel Grace’s eyes watch me in the silence.

  “This…this can’t be happening because it doesn’t make sense. Magic books that contains wizards and witches—those things…they can’t exist.” I yelled without a flinch from Grace. She just looked steadily at me. “What was mother really involved in? A cult, it has to be a cult or some sort of one.”

  “A cult would be easier to get out of, but it’s true Abi,” Grace’s voice was soft and her eyes filled with patience. “Let me prove it to you.”

  Numbly, I got into Grace’s car and we drove out of town in silence. Even though everything was farfetched, something felt right about it. I didn’t show Grace the letter my mom had left me, it was a personal thing, even though my mom sounded like a lunatic writing it.

  We pulled up in front of a two story, old, white farmhouse complete with shutters and a big porch with two rockers that sat vacant and rocked in the steady breeze. I watched them as Grace unlocked her door. A chill and a thought ran through me at the same time. I can remember Aunt Kathleen telling me that when a rocking chair that rocked without anyone in it meant that a ghost was sitting there. Just the way she had said it freaked me out since I was ten. Now with everything unfolding in front of me, I might consider believing it.

  “This is your house?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it’s a bit messy right now; you’ll have to excuse it.” Grace went into another room and told me to have a seat that she would be right back.

  Her house wasn’t messy, but just lived in with a pile of mail on the coffee table and a blanket crumpled in the armchair by her stone fireplace. Her house looked like her shop—country mixed with the gracefulness of a Victorian style with modern appliances. It was a comfortable feeling house and reflected Grace’s personality.

  A sudden gust of wind smacked against the window. I could see through the lace curtains the rocking chair sway back and forth like an old lady was sitting in it slowly rocking in even movements while crocheting…I stopped, looked away and wondered if I too had lost my mind.

  “Here it is. Only one other knows I have this and now, you’ll be the second.” Grace held a black leather bound book in her hands. “I promised the occupant that is in here that I would never bother them unless in an emergency.”

  “Is this an emergency?” I had to asked.

  “Yes.”

  She sat the book on the coffee table after she moved her pile of mail to the floor. The book wasn’t worn at all, but appeared to be patched together by fragments of leather stitched with thick threads in irregular patterns almost looking as if it was made quickly and desperately.

  “What’s in it?” I sat on my knees across from Grace.

  “The treelord that gave your family its ring,” Grace ran her finger along its edges.

  “This is actually the last treelord, there were four of them. They gave us the ability to imprison their enemies.” I shook my head. “There is so much to explain and I’m not the best at doing so.” Grace tilted her head to the side. “I know a lot has been dumped on you and I know all of this doesn’t seem possible, but it’s true Abi.”

  I didn’t believe any of this was possible. Just a week ago I was working and thinking of going to school. Now, I’m looking at a book that contains a treelord that supposedly gave my family a ring and the power to contain supernatural beings in books hidden away secretly in libraries all over the world. Yeah, I felt like running.

  Grace didn’t say anymore but instead opened the book. There wasn’t a flash of light, an explosion, a puff of glitter or anything that doesn’t normally happen when you open a book. She then took a pencil from out of the corner of the book and scribbled individual designs that resembled letters of some sort. I watched her make each letter until there were two rows that went across the blank page that slowly filled with letters that formed words that eventually sentences.

  “From the garden sprung a tree and from that garden shone a light.” Grace read the book she now cradled in her hands.

  Before I could ask her anything, the floor quivered underneath me and a shadow fell around us that passed as quickly as a cloud blocking out the sun on a windy summer day.

  “Grace, why do you summon me?” A voice as smooth as silk wrapped around me.

  “There are disturbances in branches,” Grace replied to the creature that stood between us.

  It looked down at me with holes for eyes in its limb-like thin body that was covered in grey bark. Its legs and arms were longer that its body and slender, just like twigs on a tree. A small slit just below the oval shaped eyes parted when i
t spoke and must have been its mouth.

  “You’ve brought another.” Its voice turned slightly hostile and extended root-like fingers at me that dangled in front of my face.

  The treelord’s movements were graceful especially for being made out of wood.

  “She comes from one of the first families,” Grace replied as the creature turned back to face me.

  “Humph,” he bent down examining me with his blackened eyes surrounded by grey, jagged bark.

  Grace then leaned over and held up her hand implying that I show him my ring.

  With shaking hand I held it up catching the creature’s gaze. His roots curled around my hand pulling it closer to him. From his five main fingers, tiny roots, hair-like, brushed against my skin. He had no warmth and his touch made me shiver almost like I had pulled up a plant and held its roots in my hand that began to grow around me almost wanting to penetrate my skin.

  “She is, but she was not chosen. Why do you bring her here?” The treelord straightened and turned to Grace.

  “Her mother died and never passed that on.”

  The treelord’s eyes met mine and I found them hard to look into. They were simply black holes of emptiness, but I knew they were not empty because the thing was talking to us.

  “Never was passed down or sponsored…it doesn’t matter. What disturbances run through the branches?”

  “Ones concerning Victoria.” Grace’s voice was low, like she didn’t want to speak the name.

  “This world doesn’t need her poisonous footsteps treading on it.” He gazed at Grace. “You have my attention.”

  Chapter Three