“A mitten!” they shout together.
“That’s right. Anyone want to make a prediction or guess what the story is going to be about?”
They look at each other and then me, shrugging their shoulders.
“Let’s read and find out, shall we?” I smile and turn to the first page.
I hold the book up so all the kids can see the pictures as I read the story. The children’s eyes widen like saucers, and they giggle as each of the woodland creatures fits themselves into that tiny mitten, all warm and cozy.
Pieces of me settle with each turn of the page. Am I still disappointed? Yes, of course. Am I still struggling with Julien’s role in one of those disappointments, emotions versus logic warring within me? Much to my chagrin, also yes. But I’m also remembering that I was happy before the dream of being an author was simultaneously dangled in front of me and ripped away again. I can find that happiness again here at the library, no matter what capacity that looks like in the future.
When story time is over, I help the kids find books they want to check out and make conversation with the parents. Grace and Faith go back to building blocks, inviting Daisy to join them this time. Eventually, all the kids filter out of the library, and I put away the felt board and felts, reshelvingThe Mittenin its proper place.
“Please tell me this means you’re back for good,” Hayley’s voice says from behind me.
I look at her over my shoulder. “That’s in the board of trustees’ hands. Ryan put my reinstatement on the agenda for next week, but apparently it’s not as sure of a thing as we thought it would be.”
“They can’t do that!” She stares at me in horror, outrage flashing in her eyes. “They have to give you your job back. You’re the best children’s librarian there is. There’s no way Evangeline and I can run this place without you.”
I push to stand from where I’m crouched in front of the bottom shelf. “I missed you guys too.” Her indignation on my behalf pushes a small smile to my lips.
“It’s more than just about missing you. Weneedyou, Martha.”She gives me a tight squeeze of a hug and then grips my shoulders. “And why are you taking this so nonchalantly? What, now that you’re about to be a famous author, you’re not going to fight to stay a librarian?”
“That’s not—”
“Psh. I’m just teasing you. Come on. We have something for you.” Hayley marches forward.
“Have a good day, Mrs. Jamison,” Evangeline says from the circulation desk as she hands over a copy ofBefore I Called You Mineby Nicole Deese. “Enjoy your book. I loved that one.”
“Thank you, I will.”
As soon as Mrs. Jamison walks away, Evangeline turns to me with a big grin. “Congratulations!” she says as she pulls out a gift bag from behind the desk.
My throat tightens as I look at the glittery bag overflowing with tissue paper. “You shouldn’t have,” I manage to croak out.
Hayley dismisses my protest with a wave of her hand. “Fiddlesticks.”
“Open it.” Evangeline pushes the bag closer to me.
My nose starts that pre-cry tingling as I pull away the tissue paper, slide my hand inside the bag, and lift out a coffee mug filled with gourmet hot chocolate packets. On the mug is writtenThis is what a published author looks like.
I lift my gaze, my vision swimming. “You guys” is all I can say before sniffing back my emotions.
“We’re so incredibly happy for you, Martha. You deserve this,” Evangeline says.
The words on the mug are like fingers picking at a very thin scab. “I’m not,” I whisper. “I’m not a published author.” I put the mug back in the bag and push the whole thing as far away from me as possible.
“Oh. Well, of course the publishing industry is glacier-slow so it’s not like we’re going to see your book on an order form next week or anything, but—”
“Squire’s closing. They aren’t publishing any of my books.”
Evangeline and Hayley’s eyes widen as much as the kids’ did when the bear managed to crawl into the little mitten in the book.
“I think you need to start at the beginning,” Evangeline suggests. “I feel like you just skipped ahead a few chapters and I’m left trying to figure out what happened in the plot that I missed.”
I tell them everything. Every little detail. Both the personal and the professional. Starting with Julien’s position on what’s right for King/Squire and ending with how he’d kissed me senseless in my apartment just this morning after delivering the news that I’m still smarting over.
“Let me get this straight,” Evangeline says. “This man who seems well on his way to falling in love with you knows he has information that could possibly put a wedge between the two of you, and instead of keeping it to himself until he can play the hero and smooth everything over, rushes over to tell you so there isn’t any chance of you finding out from another source and risking further hurt and misunderstanding?”
