Page 14 of Defining Us

The flicker in her chest billowed into a tiny fire, warming her insides, and the thawing process commenced. While not completely defrosted, she’d taken steps that had stoked the fire, and the return of the old Mallory didn’t seem quite so impossible anymore.

As she walked back toward the library, there was an extra pep in her step and a goal in her mind.

Friday. She’d ask him about Christine on Friday.

Maybe there was hope for her yet.

FIVE

As fate would have it,the sky cracked open on Friday morning, and unrelenting rain poured onto the streets of Honeysuckle. Mallory continually checked the local weather radar, hoping the deluge would cease. But the forecast projected rain throughout the weekend, effectively ruining the library’s plan to host the book sale and silent auction outside amid the wildflowers.

Since they hadn’t advertised a rain date, the staff decided to hold the event inside the building. With many factors to rework and modify, Mallory was so preoccupied on Friday that she didn’t immediately note Joel’s absence. He always visited during the one o’clock hour, which came and went with no sign of him.

Suddenly, her stomach grumbled, the sound loud enough to steal her attention, and she realized she’d also skipped lunch. She grabbed her umbrella and headed to her car, thoughts swirling about Joel’s whereabouts. He wasn’t one to deviate from his normal routine, so she prayed everything was okay as she made the short drive over to Black Cat Bakery to order their famous French onion soup.

After pulling into the closest parking spot, she jumped out of the car and hurried to take cover under the bakery’s awning, but her hand froze when she clutched the doorknob.

Through the foggy glass, Mallory saw them clear as day—Joel and a woman. A rather beautiful woman, at that. Auburn hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she wore skinny jeans with a white button-down shirt, the motorcycle boots on her feet giving her the right amount of edge. An easy intimacy lingered between them. They sat close together at a circular table, partaking in what was obviously a meaningful conversation.

Christine.

Mallory’s appetite vanished immediately.

Over the past two days, she had foolishly spent hours alone in her apartment, literally practicing how to broach the topic of Christine. She’d stood in front of her mirror and rehearsed her lines like she was the starring role’s understudy. When, in fact, the leading lady was right in front of her.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Well, what was another disappointment in the grand scheme of things? She knew better than to get her hopes up—knew better than to believe anything would come from a stupid infatuation. And she certainly knew better than to think she could ever recapture who she’d used to be. Swallowing down the pain, she returned to her car and peeled off to the library, determined to lose herself in work for the rest of the day.

But as she entered the building, her phone buzzed in the back pocket of her burgundy corduroy miniskirt.

Looking forward to meeting you tomorrow. 7 p.m. at the tavern still work?

Tyler’s text was exactly what she needed. Her future was not with Joel. To be fair, it probably wasn’t with Tyler either, but hismessage hammered home why she’d downloaded the dating app in the first place.

It was time to move on. From her ex-husband, from the painful memories of her past, from the life she once thought she’d have. There was no point in ignoring reality or living in fantasy worlds of her own making. She’d had a rough few years, but she wasn’t the first woman to be broken by a man, and she was certainly not the first woman to develop a silly crush. So she typed out a reply.

7 p.m. is perfect. Can’t wait!

She stepped behind the circulation desk and tucked her purse into one of the drawers. Vivian had covered the counter while Mallory grabbed lunch, and she noticed her surly mood immediately.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, never one to beat around the bush.

Mallory grimaced and said, “Just upset about the rain, that’s all.”

Vivian gave her one of those looks—the look of a friend who knows when you’re lying but also knows better than to push. She switched topics instead, handing Mallory a piece of paper.

“Here’s the evaluation form for Monday. We both fill one out,” Vivian explained. “Mine has the usual stuff—employee productivity, work quality, blah, blah, blah. Yours is more about goals and that sort of thing.”

Mallory placed the form down before her hands started shaking. Admittedly, everything about the document was nonthreatening. Four basic questions, with small spaces beneath for each answer. But getting served with this paper after witnessing the scene at the bakery was like a one-two punch.

“Sounds good,” she said, forcing a smile for Vivian’s benefit.

After closing hours, the staff handled the finishing touches for the next day. Tables scrounged up from storage were placed around the edges of the multipurpose room. Popular fiction titles were arranged to make the best use of the space, with several boxes of books tucked beneath the tables for replenishing. Non-fiction went outside the all-purpose room, catty-corner the circulation desk, and the silent auction items were arranged on two tables near the main entranceway. Since that component was her initiative, Mallory dutifully spruced up the gift cards and baskets, placing each item alongside its designated bidding list.

Soon enough, everyone headed home for the night, and she offered to lock up. With the lights low, she sat alone at the circulation desk with a pen in her hand. The ballpoint hovered over the evaluation form but never touched the paper, her entire form as still as a statue.

What do you hope to accomplish as a full-time member of the library?

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