Ariel huffed. “Ishestill there?”
Stella’s heartbeat quickened. “What does he have to do with anything?”
“Why aren’t you answering the question?” Ariel asked.
“Yes, he’s still here,” Stella admitted. “He’s been helping out.”
A few seconds passed and no one spoke. Had Ariel hung up? Stella pulled the phone away from her ear and saw the call was still live.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?” Ariel said. “And don’t give me some baloney response about the library being super busy today. I drove by this afternoon on my way to an appointment, and the whole outside of the building felt like it was pulsing with energy.”
Stella pressed one hand against her heart. “What does that mean?”
“Stella Parker, you’re my best friend, and Iknowyou,” Ariel said. “I know when you’re being shady, when you’re tryingnotto tell me something. Whatever it is that you’re not saying is sitting in my stomach like a ball of thorns.Somethingis going on with you and the library, which is why I’m getting such an out-of-control vibe about the place.”
Stella exhaled. Shecouldn’ttell Ariel the truth. “I’m sorry, Ariel. It’s not that easy, and it’s not my secret to share.”
“So you’re admitting there’s something,” Ariel said. “That’s progress. Whose secret is it? Arnie’s? And I’m going out on a limb here, but Jack’s involved, isn’t he? And if Jack knows, then I’d say it’s okay for me to know, wouldn’t you?”
Stella started to protest. “Ariel, I don’t think—”
“I have a client call coming in,” Ariel said. “Let me call you back.”
Ariel hung up. Crisis averted. She was persistent, so she wouldn’tgive up, but at least Stella had more time to figure out what wild story to tell her best friend to prevent her from learning the truth.
Stella placed her third piece of pepperoni pizza on a paper towel, then she slid the half-empty pizza box back toward Jack. He wiped his mouth and grabbed another slice. They drank Pepsi out of two mismatched plastic cups she’d found in the kitchenette cabinets.
She could almost pretend they were two regular people, enjoying pizza together, possibly having a date. “The clothes,” she said. “Does Arnie keep a stash around here somewhere? A magic closet?”
Jack smiled around his cup, took a sip, and then placed it down. “If bymagicyou mean, does he stock it with our preferred options, then yes.”
“But Darcy’s wearing exactly what I’d expect,” Stella said, biting into her slice.
Jack cocked an eyebrow. “Darcy wouldn’t suffer himself to be a drip.”
Stella agreed. “I can’t imagine him in regular clothes.” She pointed at Jack’s T-shirt. “Why the Yankees?”
He looked affronted. “Whythe Yankees? They’re only the winningest team in history with twenty-seven world titles. They’ve been to the World Series forty times. Then there’s Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio, Yogi Berra—should I keep going?”
“Superfan,” Stella said. “I had no idea. What other gold nuggets can I dig up?”
Jack playfully rubbed his chin as though thinking. “My favorite song is ‘I’m Stepping Out with a Memory Tonight.’”
Stella shook her head. “I don’t know that one.”
Jack’s shock caused her to laugh. “But it’s a perfect dancing song.”
Stella took another bite of her pizza. “A good reason I don’t know it.”
He pointed to her cell phone. “Arnie’s told me about technology wonders. Can you find the song and play it on your phone?”
Stella wiped her hands on a napkin and searched a music streaming site. She lowered the volume on her phone, tapped Play, and the song filled the space around them. It transported her to the 1940s, and when she closed her eyes, she could see couples slow dancing across a gymnasium floor. She’d read Jack’s book repeatedly. His fictional journals in the book didn’t include these little details.
Another curious thing was the author’s lack of mentioning Jack having a wife or girlfriend. In 1945 a man his age would have been married already. Fictional Jack had a richer backstory than she knew, proven by his love of the Yankees and Jimmy Dorsey. What else hadn’t the author included in the published novel?
“Did you have a girlfriend?” What kind of woman was Jack Mathis’s type? Would she be intelligent and beautiful and know how to cook? Would she be classy and always put together? Stella doubted Jack’s type would eat kids’ cereal or premade macaroni and cheese while standing up in the kitchen.
Jack chewed slowly and swallowed. “When?”
