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“Holden knows his dad’s getting out, right? I mean, obviously, it’s been all over the news, but surely, the family knew before.”
I shrugged. “I think so, but it’s almost like he’s pretending it isn’t happening. Sometimes, it feels like he thinks if he just doesn’t talk about it or listen to anyone who tries to talk about it that they’ll keep his father in prison until he’s ready.”
She snorted. “That’s not happening. Have you tried talking to him like you’re talking to me now?”
I shook my head slowly. “Nope, but Court Thayer isn’t a broken step. Holden can’t fix this with a trip to the hardware store and the problem isn’t just going to disappear.”
“You’re worried,” she said gently, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “It’s normal to worry about the people you love, Alicia. There’s nothing wrong with it, but you also can’t put off your life or your happiness just because you’re so worried about what’s going to happen in the future. So just be happy now. Be in love. Hell, tell the boy you’re in love with him. At least give it a try.”
As I absorbed what she’d said, it finally dawned on me that she wasn’t wrong. Holden had years’ worth of issues with his father to work out. It wasn’t realistic of me to expect he’d figure it all out overnight simply because the state had decided to release the man.
“I hate it when you’re right,” I muttered.
She laughed. “I’ll try to do it less often, but I’m serious. You deserve to be happy and so does Holden. Don’t put it off. Be. Happy.”
I shoved at the puffy jacket again, but then I laughed too, closing my eyes and actually allowing myself to feel it. These last few days with him had been bliss. We’d been sharing my bedroom, falling asleep and waking up together every day. We made breakfast together in the mornings and dinner together at night.
Awake or asleep, he was always touching me. Reaching for me. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it. It was like he just wanted me close, a hand on my back at the store or his fingers finding mine under the blanket when we were watching TV.
There were so many small things that had become part of our routine that made me genuinely happy, like how he always kissed my forehead right before I fell asleep and always had coffee waiting for me when I came out of the shower.
Tasha let out a dreamy sigh. “If I ever meet a dude who puts that kind of smile on my face, make me marry him.”
I laughed, but before I could respond, my phone started ringing. Pulling it out of my back pocket, I glanced down at the screen and hope flared to life in my chest. “It’s my boss. God, I hope she’s letting me come back.”
Tasha crossed her fingers and lifted them to show me, getting up off the bed to head back to the closet.
I took the call and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hi, Marge. This is such a surprise, but I’m glad you called.”
“Alicia,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically crisp. “Hi. Are you able to speak?”
“Uh, yes. Just give me a minute.” I motioned toward my bedroom and backed out of Tasha’s room as she nodded her understanding. As I stepped out into the hall, I drew in a deep breath and tried to brace myself for whatever was coming. “Okay. I can talk now. What’s going on?”
“Well, I wanted to speak to you personally,” she said, sounding so apologetic that my stomach flipped. “I’m afraid I have bad news, Alicia.”
I dropped down on the edge of my bed. “You want me to stay away for longer, don’t you? A few days wasn’t enough for the fervor to die down.”
“No, it wasn’t.” I heard a soft sigh from her end of the line. “It’s worse than that. With all the renewed interest in the Thayer case, there have been some concerns raised from parents.”
“Excuse me, what kind of concerns?”
“Concerns about the children’s department librarian being a Thayer,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry, Alicia, but I’m afraid there have been several complaints about this.”
“About me, you mean.” I stared blankly at my bedroom door, my heart twisting in my chest. “They don’t trust me to work with their children any longer.”
“No, they don’t. In fact, there’s a petition doing the rounds, and unfortunately, we cannot ignore it. I’m so, so sorry, but we’re going to have to let you go.”
My fingers went ice cold, my lungs seizing in my chest. “What? Mrs. Donnelly said it would only be a few days. She said the news cycle would move on and—”
“At the time, that was our official position,” she explained gently. “We still believe that all this ruckus surrounding your husband’s family will eventually calm down, but I’m afraid the parents who frequent our library are still not comfortable with having a Thayer around their children. There’s significant support on our board for this decision.”
As she carried on explaining the legal consequences of keeping me on against the parents’ and the board’s wishes and the concerns that had been raised, I tuned her out. I caught every fifth or sixth word, but that was it.
It felt like I could physically see my world coming down all around me. All I’d ever wanted was to be a librarian. It had never been just a job to me. It was a dream come true. I’d put together that story corner with my bare hands and I’d lovingly curated the displays according to age, interests, and potential issues.
“I really am sorry,” she said at the end of her spiel. “This is not a reflection of your work or our personal feelings.”
“I understand,” I whispered, swiping angrily at the tears streaming down my cheeks. “It’s okay, Marge. I do understand.”