Clarence's eyes widened."Yeah...You want me to find them?What is this about?"
"I can't say.It might be a little illegal," I added when his face pinched into a disappointed, hurt frown."But if this ends up being helpful, you're so going on one of my Insta stories."
That perked him right up.Clarence shoved a library card application and pen at me."Here, look busy.Nessie is coming off break and it won't look suspicious for you to be standing there."
I'd filled it out, doodled a little in one corner, and let Nessie process the application by the time Clarence returned.He had a thick book with a clear Mylar library cover in one hand, eyes a little wide.Work with mehis expression said.I gave a tiny nod."Here it is!I knew we had it, exactly what you asked for."
I took the book,The Secret Life of Quahogs: A Deep Dive Into A Vital Part of Maine's Maritime Economy, and smiled."Perfect!"
Nessie eyed the title."Seriously?You want to know more about...clams?"
Smiling brightly, I nodded."They're a vital part of Maine's maritime economy!"
Clarence stifled a snort and busied himself at the returns cart.Nessie just nodded slowly and ran the checkout process for me."Two weeks.I'll, uh, see if we have any other books about quahogs in this branch if you'd like."
"I'll let you know."
#
THE COPIES HAD ALMOSTbeentoodark.They were crumpled now and one had a mysterious stain on the corner I assumed was coffee, but despite all of that I was able to make out some of the page. "Elizabeth Marie Ellison," I read to Charlemagne and Muffin, who'd come to keep me company in Ben's office.It had the best light downstairs and, really, it just felt more official to do this at a desk than hunching over the kitchen table.And aesthetics are important: between the view of the back yard and the stunning floor to ceiling bookshelves behind Ben's antique oak desk with the leather blotter pad, it wasveryPoirot vibes.
I even busted out my glasses for the occasion, my contacts making my tired eyes feel gritty and hot.
Under the bright light of Ben's desk lamp with the Tiffany style shade, I read more."Whole life, twenty million...Jesus, it's alright to be some people, isn't it?Well.Maybe not, considering she's dead..."
The second page was a tiny bit easier to read, but not by much.It took me longer and the addition of two painkillers to figure out what I was seeing."Oh hey now.This one isn't insurance."
Charlemagne walked over, paws sending papers sliding across the desk as he perched in front of me like he could read the document too.
"Probate Court, County of Los Angeles," I read.Charlemagne's tail whapped side to side, thumping against the old desk phone and a pen cup, rattling both.
"Yeah, you're right.But I don'twantto ask him anything.He'll come zooming back from Boston so fast..."
Charlemagne growled.
"I know, I know.Maybe I can just google it."
Despite being of The Internet Generation, as one of those fusty old magazines called people my age, it took me an hour to find the right combination of information to plug in only to find out that yes, the county court did make probate records publicly available but no, I couldn't get them online.I'd need an in-person visit."Or for my lawyer to reach out," I muttered, giving Charlemagne a sideways glance.He looked smug, being proven right.
And god, I needed to get out more.
Exhaustion hit me in a wave and I realized that not only had I not eaten since breakfast, it was nearly dinner now and Heath would be coming over for his break.Shoving the papers back into the library book where Clarence had hidden them for me, I left them on the desk and hurried to the kitchen to figure out dinner, Charlemagne and Muffin following in a little parade of hopeful treat begging.
#
"THIS IS REALLY GOOD," Heath said, reaching for his glass of tea.I'd manage to cobble together a vegetarian pasta and side salad with garlic bread before he stopped by and, despite my arm aching, found I actually had a pretty good time doing it.Cooking was starting to feel less like a chore—mind my macros, gotta cut weight for this audition so stick to this bland, high protein diet—and more enjoyable as I started making more meals on my own for both myself and to share. "For some reason, I didn't imagine you cooking.I thought you'd order out or something."
"Is it because I'm too pretty to be good in the kitchen?"I asked, fluttering my lashes dramatically.Heath laughed, blushing a little, and we fell into an easy conversation about his shift, about the library (minus...well, a lot of my visit there—both of them), and segued into a slightly less comfortable vein about the holidays."I'll probably go see my folks," I sighed."It's been a long time.And I kind of miss Long Island, if you can believe it."And I still had to reply to Mom’s texts and calls.Okay, I admit I’m not a great son when it comes to communication, at least lately.I made another mental note to call her Tonight and sort out the holidays and catch up on life.
He smiled softly."I've never been to Long Island.Or anywhere around New York City.Just Plattsburgh to visit some cousins a few times, and Albany for a Youth Government project junior year of high school."
I told him about the small town where I'd grown up, trips to the city as a kid and how it just fed my desire to act.I thought about sharing what I'd found in the papers, what I was thinking about the entire Tubbs situation, how I knew something was fishy, it wasn't just an accidental death somehow, but I swallowed that all down and kept up a steady patter about my hometown, my first play, the commercial that got me 'discovered' when I was really too young for it."LA was terrifying," I admitted, poking at a tiny tomato in my salad."We flew back and forth at first, till I started getting longer roles in things, then Mom and Dad took turns staying out there with me till I was old enough to stay on my own.Mostly Mom—Dad hates flying.It was..."I shook my head."It was nothing and everything like I thought it'd be when I got to that point."
"When we were kids—okay, teenagers, but that's pretty much just tall kids," Heath chuckled, "a lot of us talked about getting out of Lester Cove.Going to New York, Chicago, London..."
"Which were you?"I asked quietly."New York?Chicago?London?"
"I always said New York, but I never meant it," he said with a small, self-deprecating shrug."Always knew Lester Cove was my home and, even if I left for school or to see what I could see, I'd always come back."
