Which meant that speaking to them about Jennifer would gain me nothing. On the contrary, talking about their new hire in less than glowing terms would likely get me labeled as a malcontent, a troublemaker, and someone who wasn’t willing to work with the board.
But how long would I be able to stay silent?
How long could I stand by and do nothing while the library changed underneath me?
All of which led me straight to a big and frightening question that I’d never before asked myself: How long was I going to be welcome at the Chilson District Library?
On the walk home that evening, I kicked at the leaves fallen on the sidewalk and tried to think happy thoughts. The sun wouldn’t officially set until a quarter to seven, but the streetlights were on full force at a few minutes past six and not making much of a dent against the thick clouds. A cold wind blew down my neck and I could feel rain start to fall.
“Bleah,” I muttered, zipping my jacket all the way up and wishing I’d worn my winter coat.
None of that was helping me shift to a positive mind-set, however. I debated whistling a favorite song, but I wasn’t sure I would have been able to hear it over the noise of the blowing leaves. I considered singing, something that always lifted my spirits even if I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but as I mentally scrolled through possible songs, the only songs that came to mind were Christmas carols and it was far too early for that.
But dire straits called for dire measures. Thankfully, just as I was about to start the first verse of “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” my cell phone rang with Kristen’s tone.
“About time,” I said. “What have you been doing all day?”
“Do you really want to know?” she asked. “Because if you do, I’ll tell you.”
“What I really want is for you to get me the name of a guy who ate at your place a week and a half ago.”
“You have got to be kidding,” she said flatly. My normally energetic friend sounded tired and cranky.
“Sorry,” I said, “I know you’re busy with closing down the restaurant, but this is important. It was the night I was there with Ash and Lindsey. There was this guy behind me and—”
“Oh, him,” Kristen said, and I could almost see the roll of her eyes. “I remember that guy. He was by himself, right? He wanted his steak well done.”
“Such a travesty,” I murmured, knowing from experience it was the appropriate thing to say.
“And he wanted fake whipped cream on his pie.” She snorted. “Please. As if I’d have something like that in my restaurant.”
“Do you remember his name?” I asked.
“Something boring,” she said. “Bland.”
“Not helpful.”
“Give me a minute, will you? You know how horrible I am with names.”
I hummed a few quiet measures of the Jeopardy theme song.
“Funny,” she said, “but that’s not helping—” She stopped. “Last name was Blake,” she said. “I ran his credit card myself.”
So, not Simon Faber. I blew out a small sigh of relief, then remembered the name of Leese’s new client. “Bob Blake?”
“Pretty sure. Why do you want to know?”
I murmured a few vague words about looking into something for Leese and said I’d talk to her later. As I neared the boardinghouse, walking toward the welcoming light streaming from the windows, I thought about what Mitchell had said and knew there was something I needed to do earlier rather than later. As in right now.
I tromped up the steps, and as I opened the front door, a gust of wind yanked the knob out of my grasp and it went bang! against the wall.
Aunt Frances, who was standing in the living room, whirled around, startled. “Minnie! Are you okay?”
“Sorry,” I said, reaching around for the door and pulling it shut. “That’s the kind of day this has been.”
Otto hurried in from the dining room. “What was—” Then he spied me. “Minnie,” he said, smiling. “I had no idea you could make such a tremendous noise.”
“You should hear me dropping cutlery on the floor.” I put my backpack on the stairs and my coat in the front closet. “Do you two have a minute? There’s something I’d like to talk about.”
Because there was one conclusion I’d come to amid my dark thoughts on the way home, and I wanted to get it out in the open before I chickened out. Or changed my mind. Or decided that it wasn’t my place to say.
“This sounds serious.” Aunt Frances gave me a speculative look. “Please don’t tell me you’re regretting your decision not to apply for the library director position, so regretful that you’ve applied for another director position in some other state, that they interviewed you over the phone and hired you on the spot, are paying you an exorbitant salary and moving expenses, and you and Eddie plan to leave as soon as the moving van shows up.”
“Mrr,” said a disembodied cat voice.
I put on a serious face. “You’re actually very close.”
“What?” My aunt, who’d been two inches away from a sitting position, froze in place. “Seriously?”
“No.”
Aunt Frances sat down with a thump. “Did you hear that, Otto? My niece, the only niece I have in the entire world, is making light of my concerns.”
Otto snorted and sat next to her. “Since your concerns were completely imaginary, I can’t say I blame her.”
“Glad you agree,” I said, smiling, as I came around the end of the couch that faced them. I sat next to my furry friend and said, “Hey. Nice of you to greet me when I get home after a long day at work.”
Eddie, who was curled up on the cushiest cushion on the couch, opened one eye, then closed it again.
I patted the top of his head anyway, and he started purring.
“How long are you going to leave us in suspense?” Aunt Frances leaned against Otto and tucked her stockinged feet up underneath her. Otto shifted to put his arm around her shoulder. “I’m pretty comfortable here,” she said as their fingers laced together casually yet firmly, “so you can take your time, but we have dinner plans, so don’t take too long.”
I smiled at them fondly. It was clear they belonged to each other heart and soul. Romance had come late to them both, but it was never too late for love. They deserved to have a lot of time together and I was going to help.
“Everything comes to an end,” I told them. “The sands of time and all that. Nothing lasts forever, not even the sun. Sure, it’ll be around for a few billion more years, but someday that will be gone, too.”
My aunt gazed at me. “Otto, I think she’s trying to tell us something.”
“Yes,” he said. “I wonder what it could possibly be?”
I laid a hand on Eddie’s back and he immediately started purring. I mentally whispered a thank-you for his support and said out loud, “It’s time to let go of the boardinghouse.”
Aunt Frances and Otto went completely still.
“It’s time,” I repeated. “Your future is more important than the future of strangers, and yours will be better without the boardinghouse.”
“Are you sure?” my aunt asked quietly.
I nodded. “You don’t need the money, and I now see that running it takes a little more out of you every year. You spend half the winter planning, all spring getting ready, and you work until you drop all summer long. You’re tired even now. Sell the business to someone else or close it down entirely. Either way your life will be better, and that’s what matters.”
Otto reached forward to tuck a strand of hair behind my aunt’s ear. “What do you think, Frances?”
My hardworking, smart, self-contained, and independent aunt sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with Otto’s sleeve. “Minnie, are you sure? This is your home. If I sell this place, where will you go October through April? You can’t stay on your houseboat all year.”
The thought made me shiver involuntarily. “Don’t worry about me. Like I said before, I’m sure I can find people willing to rent me their summer place.” Who, I had no idea, but I wasn’t going to worry about that. Not for a few months, anyway.