I stood waiting, welcoming,
high above the spray
and the violence,
lighting a path to safety,
to rest, to peace,
to my arms
when you needed that more
than you needed air,
I was your lighthouse, your love.
Stella reread the poem. Every relationship, every experience, every heartbreak had given her words. Words that reminded her of the past but also words that healed.
She closed the notebook, turned off the light, and lay back on her bed. She pulled the sheets up to her chin and gripped the soft fabric in her fingers, closing her eyes. Without meaning to, she found her thoughts drifting to Jack, which caused a stirring in her chest that crept down to rouse a long-sleeping emotion inside her. What if Jack Mathis was in the archives tomorrow when she got there? Could it be possible to have an actual conversation with him? What would she even say to a fictional man she’d adored for years? Her heart rate elevated as her stomach filled with jitters. The wobbly ceiling fan blew paper-thin, illuminated orange words around her room.Devotion. Different. Desire.
Her thoughts shifted. She imagined Arnie lying in the hospital bed, and tears pooled behind her closed eyelids. When she rolled over, the tears leaked down her face and onto the pillow. She opened her eyes and saw more words curled up on the faded carpet beside her bed.Uncontrollable. Hearts. Safe.Past relationships had taught Stella that when it came to love, the heart wasneversafe. Why did those words cuddled up together make her think of Jack Mathis?
Chapter 9
Stella’s cell phone alarm buzzed early Thursday morning. She blinked open her eyes, focused on the pale pink wallpaper, and experienced a moment of forgetfulness. For a few seconds she drifted back to childhood, thinking her dad would be awake in the kitchen, drinking black coffee and heating up blueberry Pop Tarts for her and Percy’s rushed breakfast before school. Percy would already be in the bathroom fixing his hair as though his teenage years depended on the perfect hairstyle.
Then reality settled in. No one was in the house with her. Not her dad, not Percy. A weight pressed on her chest, making her breaths labored. Stella remembered Arnie was in the ICU. She pushed herself into a seated position and battled lightheadedness. After kicking off the covers, she padded into the bathroom to shower and prepare for a day she wasn’t sure she could handle.
She’d never been in charge of the library full-time without Arnie. It wasn’t as though managing it was too complex for her, but the idea of being there without Arnie for who knew how long felt all wrong.What was the library without Arnie? Less enjoyable for one thing. Lonelier for another. But she wouldn’t be alone today because both Vicki and Dan had agreed to come in.
She’d received no calls or texts during the night alerting her that someone had set off the library alarm. Did that mean the people in the archives hadn’t left? Or had Arnie given them the alarm code? Would he share something as private as that with people Stella had never met before? And what about that Jack Mathis guy?
Stella’s thoughts whirled so badly she felt dizzy in the shower. Once out of the hot water, she twisted her wild curls into a messy bun on top of her head. She dressed in a white blouse and flowy knee-length skirt. Instead of her usual sneakers, she strapped on a pair of sandals. Then, before she realized what she was doing, she performed a slow twirl in front of the mirror.
After a complete turn, she stopped and gawked at her reflection. “Whatare you doing?” It dawned on her then that she was dressing up for a potential encounter with Jack. She rolled her eyes at her reflection. “Clearly you’re sleep deprived.” Nothing else could explain why she would waste an ounce of energy on her appearance given everything else that was going on.
Stella stomped into the kitchen, annoyed with her ability to get sidetracked so easily by a handsome face. Her annoyance increased when she realized she was out of instant coffee pods. She snatched a half-full box of Cheez-Its and drove to the library, leaving a dusty trail of frustration behind her car.
As she drove, Stella called the hospital. Lisa was back at the nurses’ desk and bent the rules enough to tell Stella that Arnie had experienced a setback during the night—difficulty breathing and spiking blood pressure. They had adjusted his medication in order to get his system back in control, and he needed to remain on the oxygen machine. The doctor didn’t want to risk the chance thatArnie’s heart was not yet strong enough to pump oxygen properly to the rest of his body. He was doing a little better this morning, and he’d been lucid enough to speak with the doctor and his nurses until he’d fallen asleep again. His stay in the ICU would be for at least a few more days, and he’d remain under observation for possibly a week, depending on his recovery. Stella asked Lisa to keep her updated if anything changed.
Blue Sky Valley could never be called a sleepy town. The sun shone down on people walking through the park at the end of Main Street. Small groups sat outside at the coffee shop’s wrought iron tables, most of them sipping iced beverages in the rising heat. Families snuggled into Grits & Gravy to fill up on stuffed French toast and pancakes covered with sweet, sticky syrup. It was an odd juxtaposition to see the townsfolk going about their day like normal when Stella had experienced anything but a normal evening. Shouldn’t everything be tilted out of alignment, not justherlife?
When she arrived at the library, the alarm was still set. Either no one left last night after her, or Arnie’s guests knew the code. Both options unsettled her. She checked the archives almost as soon as she arrived. The heavy vault door was still closed and unlocked, but when she walked through the aisles, she found no one. She felt silly doing it, but she called out to Mr. Darcy and Jack, even wished good morning in French to the couple, but no one responded. Where were they? The most logical explanation was that Arnie had given them the code, and one of them reset the alarm after they left. If that was the case, then they were just regular folks. And Jack Mathis wasn’t a character from a book, but someonepretendingto be him?
With no one there to offer answers, Stella went through the process of opening the library for the day, clicking around the tiles on her sandaled feet. Vicki and Dan would be in within the next hour,but without Arnie, the building was oddly quiet. Even when they weren’t in the same room, Stella felt Arnie’s presence and was comforted by the fact that he was around somewhere. But now, alone in the library, she felt the silence intensifying his absence and her worry.
It also didn’t help her mood that around every corner she kept imagining running into Jack. Disappointment darkened her temperament. Shouldn’t she be relieved that the partygoers from the night before were gone and the library was still in working order? That they hadn’t burned it to the ground or stolen what little money there was or robbed the archives?
“What did you expect, Stella?” she asked herself, sounding as irritated as she felt. “Jack Mathis showing up with coffee, asking you how your night was?”
“You must have read my mind.”
Stella gasped and spun around so quickly that she had to steady herself against the circulation desk. Jack Mathis stood in front of her, tall and striking, wearing a pair of shorts, a navy-blue T-shirt with a New York Yankees logo, and white tennis shoes. He held two mugs, steam rising from both.
“Good morning,” Jack said. He extended a mug toward her and smiled. “Cup of joe? If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re looking lovely today. How was your evening? Were you able to rest?”
Stella stared at him and pressed her hands against the waistband of her skirt. “You... your clothes.”
