Louisiana Saves the Library (15 page)

C
HAPTER
22

A
fter work the next Thursday, Sylvia drove Louise out to look at the new house. Louise had signed the closing papers, but she hadn't had time to even drive by in the two days since. The movers were scheduled to come the next day, and she wanted to make sure that the place was in acceptable shape. Sylvia had dipped into her savings, and her moving present to Louise was a crew of housekeepers who had spent that morning scrubbing away the previous tenant's dirt.

As soon as Louise walked in the door, she was assaulted by lemon-scented fumes from the cleaning products the crew had used. The place looked spotless. She didn't care that the carpet was unraveling and the kitchen cabinets were painted Pepto-Bismol pink. The price was right, and the quiet neighborhood was just five minutes from the library. She strolled through the house, planning where everything would go. The two upstairs bedrooms would be for her and Zoe, she'd decided, and Max could have the parlor.

“Louise, I think you have a trespasser,” Sylvia called from the kitchen.

Louise went back downstairs. From her friend's tone of voice, she expected something harmless—a lizard or a cat maybe.

She joined Sylvia at the kitchen window. She'd bought the house in spite of the backyard. It was nothing special—an unpainted wooden fence surrounding a half acre of weeds. Her promise to get Max a swing set had been weighing on her mind. Even though money was tight, she couldn't let him down.

Looking out the window, she thought she must be dreaming. The grass had been neatly trimmed, and someone had installed a swing set complete with a slide and a sandbox. Sal stepped out from behind a bush he'd been pruning.

“Did he do this?” she asked, still in a daze.

“I don't know,” Sylvia said. “But it seems like the most reasonable explanation. And the most reasonable response would be to go out there and thank him.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Louise shook her head, trying to clear it. Sal must have spent all day in her yard. He'd given her the best gift she'd ever received, and she hadn't even asked. Even though he didn't have children, he understood her. She felt her throat tighten, but there was no way she was going to cry in front of Sylvia.

Sylvia pulled open the screen door and held it for Louise. “Come on, girl. I doubt he bites.”

Sal set down the trimmer, took off his hat, and wiped his forehead with a red bandanna. “Hey, y'all. This was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It is,” Louise said. “It looks great. I can't believe you did all this.”

“Me neither. I'm supposed to be working on my strawberry crop. But Betta told me I needed to do something with this old swing set, so here I am. Figured I'd mow too while I was at it.”

“You could teach my Jake a few things,” Sylvia said. “When he mows the lawn, it looks like a bad haircut.”

“I like doing it. I guess the same reason I like farming. There's real satisfaction in seeing the results of your work. I didn't get that as a lawyer at all.”

“I wish I could take you out to dinner, but I have to go pick up the kids,” Louise said.

“That's okay. Betta's got some of her gumbo going, and she'll tan my hide if I don't go help her eat it. But I wouldn't say no to a rain check.”

“It's a deal,” Louise said.

 

At home, there was a package waiting for Louise on the front steps. She regarded the neatly taped box with suspicion.

“Mommy, can you open it? Please?” Max tried to lift it, but the package was too heavy and he dropped it immediately.

Louise unlocked the door and dragged the box inside. “It's from your daddy.”

“Daddy!” Zoe said.

Max jumped up and down. “Open it! Open it!”

“Okay, okay. Hang on a second.” Brendan had used far too much tape, and Louise had to saw through the mess of plastic with scissors while Zoe climbed on her back. She resisted the urge to shake the girl off like an oversize fly.

Louise dug through the packing material and found a shirt for Max with a picture of a truck on the front. It was big enough for him to wear as a dress. She gave it to him, and he tossed it to the side. For Zoe, there was a T-shirt that Louise could tell was a size too small. Naturally, Brendan didn't include a receipt. If he had asked, she would have told him the kids' sizes, but of course he hadn't. Brendan always thought he knew everything. When they were married, she hadn't really noticed that he never asked her opinion. It wasn't until after he left that she realized what a doormat she'd been.

He'd sent a plastic doll for Zoe. She wasn't interested in dolls. Predictably, she shoved it into the corner and went into the kitchen to play with the canned goods in the pantry.

Meanwhile, Max was trying to open a package of monster trucks. At least Brendan had gotten something right. Louise freed the trucks from their box after five minutes of hacking at the packaging, and Max raced them across the floor. He was easy to please, at least temporarily.

Louise poured herself a glass of wine before reading the enclosed note: “We hope the children enjoy their presents. I trust everything is ready for the wedding. Brendan and Julia.” Louise sipped her wine and started the oven for chicken nuggets while Zoe removed cans from the pantry, lining them up on the kitchen floor. She wished Brendan had gotten Zoe some pretend kitchen accessories.

Louise stuffed the packing peanuts and the note in the trash. She didn't have a wedding gift for Brendan and Julia, but she wasn't really a guest. Max and Zoe were the real invitees, not her. Still, she was probably supposed to bring something. Why couldn't Brendan and Julia just get married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator?

The stupid staticky peanuts were difficult to corral into the dustpan. Zoe found one and started tearing it into tiny pieces that would be impossible to sweep up. Louise was too tired to stop her. She sat down and finished her wine. She hoped that someday she would stop resenting Brendan and Julia. The anger was not good for her or the kids—she knew that. But every time she thought about them, her whole body tensed.

The oven beeped, and she got up to start the kids' dinner. From the corner of the room, the discarded doll regarded her with sightless eyes.

C
HAPTER
23

L
ouise walked through the old house in Saint Jude, making sure the movers hadn't forgotten anything. She had kept her vow not to go into the backyard. Even through the window, the sight of the tree swing and the little shed where she'd kept the inflatable pool and various balls and toys made her sadder than the empty house. It was just another reminder that her life was changing against her will again.

Max and Zoe didn't even remember the bigger house in Iowa, back when their parents were married. When they first moved to Louisiana, Max sometimes mentioned Brendan, but then he seemed to forget. Louise had been secretly happy when that started happening. Since he didn't do any of the work for the kids, he didn't deserve any love from them. Now that he was moving to Saint Jude, she was going to have to change her attitude, fast. It wouldn't be easy.

Louise locked the house and got into the van. Saint Jude had started to feel like home in the past year. She wasn't sure Alligator Bayou ever would. When she'd first moved to Saint Jude, she'd thought that it was too different from the Midwest and that she would never get used to the South. But Alligator Bayou was something else entirely. Saint Jude was a major metropolitan area compared to that little backwoods town. She was moving somewhere rural and insular. Everyone knew everyone else. She would be even more of an outsider than usual.

When she got to the new house, Sal was out front trimming the bushes with a manual hedge clipper. Ms. Trudy and Betta were kneeling on the ground, planting flowers. Louise parked the van behind Ms. Trudy's Oldsmobile and stared in wonder. The move to Saint Jude had been lonely. No one had helped her unpack, mow the lawn, or fix the holes in the wooden fence. Until she met Sylvia, she'd felt lost. But Alligator Bayou was welcoming her.

Inside, she found Hope and Brianna in the kitchen making lunch. All these people working for her benefit made her feel wanted. She was really going to be part of this town. “I can't believe you all are here just for me,” she said.

“Don't nobody move to Alligator Bayou without a proper welcome,” Hope said. “Your library patrons been dropping off goodies all morning. Come see.”

The countertop near the refrigerator was covered with baked goods: bread, cookies, pralines, pecan pie, pound cake. Each of the homemade gifts came with a handwritten note.

“I feel like I'm marrying into a huge family,” Louise said, reading the card attached to a plastic bag of chocolate chip cookies. Clearly, the people in town appreciated what she and Sylvia were trying to do. It was important to them. Without the library, where would Mary go for free lunch, books, and companionship? How would the B sisters keep up with their online friends and find other kids who liked to talk about C. S. Lewis? How would the long-haul trucker get the books on tape to play as he struggled to stay awake on his cross-country rides? Where would Ms. Trudy go for her coffee and
People
magazine? She put the cookies back on the counter and turned to face Hope. “We have to win against this Mrs. Gunderson.”

Hope's eyes widened even more than usual. “True enough. Now set down and I'll fix you a plate before we start unpacking these boxes,” she said.

Someone had set up a white plastic table and chairs in the kitchen. Louise sat down and watched Brianna dip catfish fillets in egg and then cornmeal and place them in a cast-iron frying pan. She moved nimbly despite her oversize body. Hope stood next to her, loading plates with catfish, white bread, and coleslaw. Louise didn't want to relax when the others were so busy, but she knew better than to argue with Hope.

Hope brought the plates over to the table along with plastic flatware and napkins. When everything was ready, she opened the front door and called out, “Y'all come and eat!”

Sal, Betta, and Ms. Trudy came in, taking off their dirty shoes and washing their hands before crowding around the table. Hope poured paper cups of iced tea, and everyone started eating. Louise poked her plastic fork into the crispy coating on the fish. The flesh was creamy and moist. It was even better with the tangy coleslaw.

Hope stopped the movers as they brought in the first load of boxes. “Y'all find Louise's dining room table and some chairs and set them up before all this gets cold. I reckon y'all want some iced tea anyway after all that lifting.”

The two young black men hurried outside to get the table while Belinda filled their paper plates.

Louise looked around at the crew: Sal with his rumpled, curly hair matted down from his John Deere cap; the lanky, gold-toothed movers taking off their leather gloves; Betta in her tight-fitting gardening coveralls; bubbly Brianna bringing over a plate of extra catfish; and Hope forking coleslaw and fish into her mouth like a starving dog. Louise felt almost at home with these people. She'd never be a Southerner, but maybe she could be the eccentric Yankee librarian in town. That might not be so bad.

“I'm glad you're here,” Sal said. “We all are.”

“You may be from the frozen north, but I reckon you're still good people. We'll keep you,” Hope said.

“Serve me food like this and you won't be able to keep me away,” Louise said. “What should we have for dessert?”

“Pound cake.” Betta brought her empty plate to the kitchen. “I brought my homemade canned strawberries to put on top.”

When they'd finished two of the cakes and a jar of sweet strawberry preserves, everyone got back to work. With so many hands unpacking things and putting them away, almost everything was set up by the time Louise had to pick the kids up from their new school. She wished she could find a way to thank everyone. She hugged the women and shook hands with the men as they headed to their cars.

Sal was the last to leave. “Let me take this trash out for you.”

“Thanks for everything. I can't believe y'all did this for me.”

“My motives aren't all that pure.” Sal tied the garbage bag and carried it to the front door.

“What do you mean?”

“I still want that second date with you.”

“Me too,” Louise said.

C
HAPTER
24

L
ouise sat in her cubicle, drinking a third cup of coffee from the pot she'd made after lunch. Another day of being tired. Just once, she wanted to sleep through the night. Usually Zoe was the one who woke her up, but Max had been plagued with nightmares the last few nights, probably because of being in the new house. He generally went back to sleep with a little reassurance and a story on his iPad, another present from Brendan. Sometimes, though, he'd wake up again just a couple of hours later. Louise was so sleep-deprived that her eyes hurt. She'd even tried napping in the van during her lunch break. It didn't work.

Sylvia popped her head above the cubicle wall. “Ten people,” she said.

Louise blinked hard, trying to focus. “For what?”

“Hope's cooking class. I think that's pretty good, for the first one.”

A squeak of sneakers and Hope was standing outside Louise's cubicle. “I don't want him shutting us down like he tried to do to y'all's Zumba thing. I want this on the up-and-up. I'm going to tell him right now.”

“Okay, but Mr. Henry already approved it,” Sylvia said, pushing a cart of new young adult books into her cubicle.

Louise gulped some more coffee and managed to finish cataloging her cart of new mysteries. A few minutes later, she was on her way to the patron area with the cataloged and labeled books when Hope came out of the director's office. She slammed the door and the miniblinds slapped against the glass. She stomped out the back exit without saying anything to Louise and Sylvia.

“We've got to catch her.” Sylvia speed-walked to the door and pushed it open. “Hope, wait.”

“No, I've had enough. I'm getting out of here. That man done pushed me too far.” Hope waved dismissively over her shoulder and kept walking.

“At least tell us what happened,” Louise said.

Hope climbed into her pickup truck. “Y'all want to know, come with me.”

“Where are you going?”

“Sal's farm.”

“We can't just leave,” Louise said. She liked the idea of seeing Sal again, but abandoning the library would be completely against her work ethic. She'd never even snuck out on the cafeteria job she'd hated.

“Suit yourself.” Hope started to close the truck's door.

“Why not? We're off in an hour anyway,” Sylvia said. “Let that lazy bastard check out someone's books for once.”

Hope grinned. “Nah, Lily's there. She'll take care of it. 'Sides, she's on the late-night shift today.”

“Wait, I have to get something. Don't leave without me.” Sylvia rushed inside and came back out with her laptop. She was amazingly fast in her three-inch stilettos.

They squeezed into the front of the cab, Louise in the middle with her thigh pressed against Sylvia's.

“Will you wear my letterman's jacket?” Sylvia said.

Louise laughed. High school probably was the last time she'd been wedged so tightly into a vehicle. “Only if you ask me to prom. I'm not as easy as I look.”

Hope started the truck and put it in gear. They were all the way past the Piggly Wiggly before she said, “He told me to get my fat behind out of his office. Only he didn't say it that nice. I've known him since we was kids. He's got no right to talk to me like that.” She shot Louise a sideways glance. “Y'all really got him worked up.”

“We didn't do anything,” Sylvia said.

“Well, you done changed the hours, started these teen programs, book clubs, and then this Zumba thing. He don't like y'all changing things. He's comfortable in his easy little job. He don't want nothing different. Hates it. He and I both remember when you knew everyone's car when they drove down Route One, which used to be Hatfield Lane, named after his daddy. His house was the first one built on his street. Backed up onto an empty field. Now, he can't hardly get out of his subdivision in the morning for all the traffic. Same with me.”

“That's no excuse for him acting like a miniature dictator all the time,” Louise said.

“Heck, no, it sure isn't. And I'm mad as a treed 'coon. I'm 'bout ready to quit and go back to working at the day care. Little kids give me less trouble than he does.”

Sylvia slid against the door as Hope took a hairpin curve too fast. “Why are we going to Sal's farm?”

“'Cause maybe he'll be able to calm me down. Plus, if his sister's there, we might get us some dinner in the bargain.”

“They won't mind us dropping by?” Louise said, bracing herself for another hard turn.

“Nah. He's family. 'Sides, I know he'll want to see Minnesota girl again.”

Sylvia nudged Louise in the ribs a little too hard.

“Ow,” Louise said.

Hope drove into Louise's new neighborhood and slowed in front of her house. “You liking your new home?”

“Yeah. It's kind of nice to be out here. I didn't even realize how much noise the highway made until we were away from it.” Aside from Max's nightmares, the children had quickly taken to the new house. They spent hours in the backyard, swinging and playing in the sandbox. They didn't notice that the house was smaller than the old one or that the carpet was worn down and the kitchen linoleum was peeling in the corner.

Hope came to a complete stop. She hooked her thumb toward the house across the street from Louise's. “You met the Pettigrews?”

“Not yet.”

“Old lady's watching us right now. She done moved into that house with her first husband around 1956, and I reckon she ain't hardly budged from that there window since. Hilda goes by to take them a cake now and then, and she says they got one of them console TVs and chairs like you see in
Leave It to Beaver
. Inch of dust on everything.” Hope turned the truck onto the dirt road leading up to Sal's. “Harmless enough, I suppose. You oughta stop by and introduce yourself sometime. Once a week, Sal drives his mower over there and does the lawn.”

Louise nodded, but she wasn't really listening. This was only the second time she'd been to Sal's place. Was he really as busy as he said? Or was he taking it slow for some other reason? Clearly, he liked her. His sister couldn't have really pushed him into spending all day fixing up her lawn. It had to have been his own idea. Or maybe she just wanted to believe that.

 

When Sal heard a vehicle crunch up his driveway, he walked around the mobile home to see who it was. February was his busiest month. The strawberries had begun to ripen, and Betta had basically closed down the salon to help him with the school tours and open weekends. Kids came to pick berries, play, and learn about farming. He loved having his property full of children, workers, friends, and family, but there was so much to do that he barely had time to think. He kept meaning to call Louise and never seemed to get around to it. The only reason he was even at the trailer was to feed the dogs and check on his greenhouse strawberries.

The visitor was Hope. He recognized her red pickup truck. Sylvia was the first to get out, and the dogs ran toward her from all directions. She squatted on the ground, and the Chihuahuas tried to lick her face.

After Louise and Hope also stepped down from the truck, some of the attention turned to them. Louise wore a navy-blue jacket and skirt with low-heeled black shoes. She was still gorgeous, but Sal preferred her jeans-and-cowboy-boots ensemble. For one thing, she seemed uncomfortable in the dressy clothes, discreetly tucking her blouse back into the skirt and adjusting her nylons.

Hope cleared a path through the dogs with the top of her black, rubber-soled shoe. “Sal, your Chihuahuas are attacking.”

Sal whistled. Two of the dogs ran to him and the rest continued to sniff the visitors. “Y'all have to excuse my animals. They don't have the best manners. I see you brought the whole library.”

“Nah, Lily and Matt ain't here,” Hope said.

“True. Y'all want to come inside? It's a little cold out here today, especially without jackets.” He raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Foley run y'all off?”

“You guessed it,” Hope said. “And you better talk me into going back there tomorrow or you and Betta will be feeding me every day.”

“She wouldn't mind that a whole lot.” Sal held open the door of the trailer, and they all went inside. The dogs followed, knowing it was time for their dinner. He was glad to see Louise and cursed himself for not calling her. Sure, he was busy, but he could have found a minute. Was he afraid? Nervous that he would somehow mess up with her or that she would break his still-bruised heart? “I got white beans for a crowd if y'all want to stay. Betta came over and put them in the Crock-Pot for me this morning. Like I said, she's into feeding people.”

“What I want right now is beer,” Hope said.

“Help yourself.” Sal scooped out food for the dogs, and they lined up to eat, tiny tails wagging.

Sylvia and Louise sat at the kitchen table while Hope rummaged in the fridge.

Sal took the chair next to Louise. He wished that they were alone so he could apologize for being out of touch. “So, y'all haven't told me what you're doing here,” he said, accepting a beer from Hope.

“That SOB we work for was rude and obnoxious to me. I had enough of his attitude,” Hope said, drinking half of her beer before sitting down next to Sylvia.

“Well, that's nothing really new, is it? Come on, Hope, we've known Foley long enough to expect that kind of thing.”

“No, this is different. Ever since Louise and Sylvia here started, he's been a real pain in my behind. Yelling at everyone for talking, sending out nasty e-mails. I told him that I wanted to start offering cooking classes and he said my food stunk. He knows that ain't true! I don't appreciate being treated like a third grader.”

“Louise and I are trouble, no question about it,” Sylvia said.

Hope snorted. “Y'all aren't the problem. He is.”

“The police jury meeting is tonight,” Louise said. “Mr. Foley might think we're problem children, but we have to show his bosses that we aren't.”

“I done completely forgot about that. Good luck to you. Mrs. Gunderson is tough as they come. She don't vote for nothing that she didn't dream up her own self.”

Sal leaned back in his chair. He wanted to help them save the library somehow, but he knew how powerful Gunderson was in town. The woman dealt in favors, and those in her disfavor were punished. They might find themselves pulled over for driving two miles an hour over the speed limit or in front of the police jury in violation of a zoning ordinance they didn't know existed.

“We just have to blow her away,” Sylvia said. “In a matter of speaking. Louise and I have worked like crazy on this presentation.”

“What I saw of it looked good.” Hope raised her beer bottle in a toast. “I truly wish y'all the best.”

“I take it we can count on your help.” Sylvia batted her eyelashes at Hope.

“Oh, hell, yes. Especially after today. Y'all may be city folk, but you're on the right side of this thing, no question.”

The dogs perked up their ears. A moment later, Sal heard a car coming up the drive. He'd lost track of time. He'd promised to help Betta close down the strawberry patch. She must have already counted the money, supervised the workers, made sure all the toys and things were put away, and locked everything up. He owed her one.

He finished his beer and opened the door. Betta came up the steps carrying a chocolate cake. She set it down on the table and shrugged off her brown, furry jacket while the dogs jumped at her knees. “I see you have company. Good thing I made the full batch of beans.”

“They have to eat quick and get off to that police jury meeting,” Sal said.

“Oh, Lord, you have to go to that? Those folks will talk all night about nothing.”

“Well, it's the library tax. You want string beans to go with this? The ones you put up last month?”

“If that's all you got.” Betta sat at the kitchen table.

“ 'Course that's all I got. What do you expect? Goat cheese and miniature arugula?”

“Maybe once.”

“Can we help with anything?” Sylvia asked.

“Nah, I got it.” Sal grabbed a jar of home-canned beans from the cabinet and dumped them into a pan.

Betta got up. “Let me make the rice. You burned it last time.”

“You set there. I'll make it.” Hope bustled past her cousin and grabbed a large saucepan.

Sal sat back down and watched the women take over. The story of his life, it seemed.

 

By the time they'd finished slices of Betta's homemade chocolate cake, Louise wanted nothing more than to lie down on the couch for a long nap. But she was nervous about the meeting. Would a Yankee and a Yat from New Orleans really be able to beat Mrs. Gunderson at her own game?

“I'll tell you what, Betta,” Hope said. “Your cake makes me feel like I could almost face that bastard again. And Mrs. Gunderson too.”

“I guess you'll be seeing both of them,” Betta said, crossing her dainty feet at the ankles.

“Yeah, I imagine our boss will be at the meeting. Not that he's exactly jumping up and down about what these here two are trying to do. We best be going. Thanks, y'all.” Hope patted her belly and stood up.

When everyone else was outside, Louise turned to Sal. “I still owe you a date for fixing up my lawn, and my ex's upcoming nuptials don't count.”

“You sure do,” he said. “But if I remember right, there's also a leaky faucet in your bathroom.”