“We weren’t going to bring up Julien at all, actually.”
Evangeline smirks. “Although it’s very interesting thatyoudid.”
“Oh.” I glance at one, then the other. “If you weren’t up to your usual matchmaking ways, then what was all that?” My finger wags between them.
They share a third look. Evangeline grimaces before she meets my gaze. “We need to talk about your programs and schedule. Ryan says anything already scheduled for the rest of this month won’t be canceled but that everything besides story time will be phased out after that.”
“We need you to walk us through your plans and give us the contact names and numbers. For instance, isn’t the bandteacher supposed to be coming in two weeks with some of his instruments?”
Oh. Right. Because I’ve basically been laid off, the status of whether it will be temporary or permanent the only thing in my control.
I try to put the massive boulder of feelings currently sitting on my chest behind me so I can focus on what’s important—the children. Not the loss of another place where I’ve worked so hard to carve a spot for myself. Where I strived and gave my all but still came up short.
I know it’s not the same. That Ryan doesn’t want to have to let me go. My head knows it, but my heart still feels the sting of rejection. Still vibrates with the echo of a similar dismissal.
“Martha?”
Hayley’s voice pulls me back to myself and I blink, forcing a semblance of a smile to my lips so my friends won’t worry. “Right. Yes. I have everything you need on my digital calendar. I’ll add you both to it, but I can also walk you through what I had in mind. In regard to Mr. Hunter, he’s coming on the twenty-eighth and will begin with a reading ofThe Remarkable Farkle McBride, which he’ll follow by allowing kids to try out a violin, flute, trumpet, and drums on the library’s lawn.”
Reedle-ee. Rootle-ee. Vroom-pety bang.The onomatopoeia of the book reverberates in my head, and I can picture Little Creek’s kids on the patch of grass outside, excited to be playing a real instrument for the first time. I’ve been planning this event with Mr. Hunter since the summer and have been looking forward to it, but now I’ll be in Florida with Julien instead. Evangeline or Hayley will get to lead it. They’ll get to be the ones to witness the budding love of music opening before their eyes.
My nose begins to burn, and I set my jaw against the threat of tears. I will not cry. Crying seems too much like giving up, and I’m nowhere near ready to do that yet.
The front doors swish open, dragging our attention to the entrance. I take the moment to fan my face and get myself back under control.
“Levi!” Hayley exclaims with pure joy, rushing over to her boyfriend. “What’re you doing here?”
He leans down and gives her a quick kiss on the lips. “I keep telling you, I don’t need an excuse to see the love of my life.”
“I know that.” Hayley blushes. “I just wasn’t expecting you today, is all. But a very pleasant surprise, big man.”
“How are you doing, Levi?” Evangeline smiles Levi’s way. “Finish readingListen for the Lieyet? Figured out who the murderer is?”
Levi shakes his head. “I have my suspicions, but I’m not ready to make any official accusations.”
“Is that the one that your sister and grandpa figured out before even the halfway point of the book and it took you almost until the end to get right?” Hayley asks.
Evangeline rolls her eyes. “Yes, but they listen to true-crime podcasts, so I still say the deck was stacked against me.”
“While not an excuse, I, uh—” Levi clears his throat. “I did have a reason for driving over.”
“Let me guess. It had nothing to do with discussing mystery books with me,” Evangeline teases.
Levi dips his head. “Uh, no, sorry. I wanted to talk to Martha, actually.”
“Me?” I ask in surprise.
“Hayley told me about your situation and how you’re leaving for a work trip and trying to find someone to take over managing the property where you live while you’re gone.”
Ah yes. That little detail has been stressing me out, in fact. When I’m not worrying about the library, my future here, the kids that I’m leaving behind, and how I’m supposed to be helping to save Squire when book sales for the age group are in a slump, that is.
One could call my living arrangements a symbiotic relationship. The Andersons are a well-to-do couple with a passion for Tennessee Walking Horses. They have a stable on their property with a small apartment built above the stalls. I take care of their horses for them—feed, water, muck out the stalls, turn the horses out to pasture, etc.—and in exchange, they let me live in the apartment. My rent-free arrangement is one of the reasons I’m able to volunteer the additional hours past my part-time employee status at the library. Agreeing to the writer’s conference with Julien, however, means I need to find someone who can stay at my place and take care of the Andersons’ horses for me since they’ll be out of town at the same time.
“That’s right.”
“Would you consider letting my sister Trinity fill in for you? She took riding lessons when she was younger, so she knows all about horses, and I promise she’ll do a good job.”
“I thought she was at Clemson,” Evangeline interjects.
