Page 231 of That Rush

“What about Sprinkle’s books?”

“She can share yours.”

Josie looks toward the stuffed horse sticking out of her overnight bag. “She has a lot.”

“Then the two of you will need to make careful selections.”

“Can we use glitter bookends?”

“Only if the glitter is permanently attached.”

Josie sticks out her hand. “One shelf, and we knock.”

“And if the door is locked, you wait until I open it.”

“Okay.” Josie shakes Paige’s hand. “Sprinkle gets half.”

“That part is between you and Sprinkle.”

Josie slides from her lap and races upstairs to choose the first books for their shelf.

Paige watches her go, then looks at me. “One shelf.”

“I heard you.”

Her hand finds mine beneath the table.

“I know.”

By the following Friday, the library no longer smells like paint.

It smells like coffee, old paper, and Paige’s shampoo from the blanket she left folded on the window seat.

She pulls into the drive with a wooden crate in the back of her car. Axel, Sadie, Adrienne, and Scotty are waiting on the porch with me.

“Did you organize a ribbon cutting?” she asks.

“Adrienne wanted scissors,” Axel says.

“I wanted champagne,” Adrienne says.

“Scotty said power tools and alcohol shouldn’t mix.”

Scotty shrugs. “I’ve met this family.”

Paige opens the back door and reaches for the crate. I step toward her, then stop.

“Want help?”

Her eyes flick to mine before a small smile touches her mouth. “You can take the heavy end.”

“Is there a light end?”

“No, but asking earned you the illusion of one.”

I take my side, and we carry the crate toward the separate entrance. It’s packed tightly enough that Paige has to adjust her grip twice.

“What did you bring?” I ask.