Five Minutes Late (22 page)

“What?”
 

That caught Ellie by surprise. She wanted to ask how much money, but she didn’t have it in her.

“I care about you and I care about the fundraiser. I want you to get that job.”

She stood there with her hands on her hips. “How did you know?”

“Does it matter?”

No. It didn’t. He always had his way of finding out things and she certainly wasn’t going to complain about his donation. She needed every penny possible if she were to get that promotion. Maybe now there was a chance.

“Thanks for your donation,” she said. “I appreciate it. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Ellie turned and Vlad grabbed her arm.

“That’s it?” he said.

“Please let go of my arm.” She closed her eyes, hoping when she opened them he’d be gone.
 

Nope. Still there.
 

“Ellie, I love you.”

Ellie shook her head in disagreement. “You love money more.”

“I’m changing.”

“Look, Vlad, I mean it. Thank your for the donation, but I stopped loving you a long time ago. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”

Ellie walked off before he could respond, but she knew he wouldn’t give up that easily. She knew him too well.

Cedric felt his shoulders tighten as he entered the museum and decided rather quickly he needed a drink to take the edge off. Magically, a waiter appeared with a tray of white and red wine.

“Wine?” asked the waiter. “I have Chardonnay and Cabernet.”

“Great,” Cedric answered. “Cabernet, please.”

The waiter handed him a glass. “Cabernet it is.”

Cedric took a sip and tried to relax.
 

“Well, look who’s here, Mr. Cedric in the flesh,” said Julio, smiling. “Glad you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” said Cedric, eying Julio’s clothes.

Julio raised an eyebrow. “You like what you see?”

Cedric laughed. “Just admiring the clothes. You ever have an off day in the wardrobe department?”

“Never. I always dress to impress. Even when I’m naked, I wear a bow tie.” Julio winked.

Cedric nodded, not sure how to respond. “Who doesn’t?” He glanced around the museum. “How’s the fundraising going?”

Julio frowned. “Not so good.”

That wasn’t the answer Cedric expected. He looked around the museum again. “Looks like a pretty good turnout to me.”

“Oops!” said Julio, covering his lips with his fingers. “I thought you were talking about Ellie’s fundraising.”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

“Yes and no.”

Cedric squished his eyebrows together. “I’m confused.”

Julio looked around and then moved closer to Cedric. He grabbed his bicep and squeezed it. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but …”

“Just tell me.”

Julio shrugged. “Okay, here’s the deal, banana peel. Ellie has a little problem at the moment. Actually, it’s a big problem. She needs a substantial donation in the next thirty minutes or she won’t get the promotion she’s after. End of story.”

Cedric jiggled his head as if he were trying to shake water out of his ears. “I don’t get it.”

Julio let out a loud sigh. “Okay, listen to me very carefully. You must be inebriated, but I think you can do it. Ellie is going up against another woman to be promoted to Peggy’s position, since Peggy is retiring. Are you with me so far, superstar?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Ellie and Margaret are both equally qualified. So, the brains at the district office thought it would be clever—a bunch of idiots if you ask me—to give the job to the person who raised the most money for the fundraiser. Margaret Rossewood has raised more money than Ellie, so
Ellie
needs a big donation and fast … or she won’t get the job. ¿Comprende señor?”

Cedric understood very well. He needed to help Ellie. “Sí.”
 

“Good boy. Of course you know, the money goes to help repair the damage in the children’s area.”

Cedric nodded and pulled out his checkbook; he’d brought it just in case he wanted to bid on something in the silent auction, but this was even better. He wrote the check, folded it in half, and handed it to Julio. “This is an anonymous donation.”

“Of course, thank you. Ellie is an amazing person and she deserves the best.”

“I agree,” said Cedric, smiling. “Oh, wait!” Cedric opened his wallet and pulled out a check from Michael and Veronica and another from Lucie and Sam. “Two more I forgot about.”

“
You
are a good guy, Cedric, I knew it! You shall be rewarded for your kindness.” He walked five, maybe six steps, and stopped, before screaming like a teenage girl at a Justin Bieber concert. He turned and ran back to Cedric, and practically knocked him over with an embrace. “You are fricking a-maz-ing!” He looked at the checks again. “Are you kidding me?”

“I told you it was anonymous.”
 

“I haven’t told anybody.”

“But you looked at it.”

“Somebody has to look at it, plus, when I give it to Peggy, she’ll see your name on the check. I can’t help that.”

“Uh huh.”

Cedric was feeling anxious. He took a deep breath, then a sip of wine, before wandering into the first exhibit room where “Pilgrimage” by Annie Leibovitz was on display. He recognized the photographer’s name and remembered seeing a documentary about her life on television.
 

“Now I know where I’ve seen that name,” said a male voice behind Cedric.

Cedric turned to find an older man with a kind face and full head of white hair. He looked rather elegant in his gray wool tweed blazer. Cedric noticed his wing-tipped shoes and they made him smile.
 

The man pointed to the photo and continued. “This photographer shot photos of some of the biggest celebrities in the world for
Rolling Stone Magazine
back in the seventies. Her most famous shot, which made the cover of the magazine, was of John Lennon naked, hugging his fully clothed wife, Yoko Ono. Sadly, John Lennon was shot and killed hours after that photo shoot.”

“That’s sad,” said Cedric.

The man nodded in agreement. “Looks like she wanted to go in a completely different direction with these photos.”

The photos featured personal possessions of notable historical figures that Miss Leibovitz photographed on a journey through the United States and Great Britain between 2009 and 2011. Cedric took a sip of his wine as he stared at a picture of Sigmund Freud’s couch.
 

“Yup,” said Cedric. “That’s a couch alright.”

“I must be missing something here.” The man analyzed the picture of the couch. “They call this art.” He took a sip of his fruity-looking drink and nodded.

“But did you see who the couch belonged to?” asked Cedric.

“No.” The man leaned in and tried to read the information underneath the photo, but the words were too small. He pulled out his reading glasses, put them on, read the placard, nodded, and then removed his glasses and slipped them back in his jacket pocket.

“Does that change your opinion of the photo?” asked Cedric. “Now is it art?”

“Hmm.” The man scratched his chin. “Maybe.” He stared at the photo longer. “Yes, yes. I think I get it now. When you know who owns the couch, your imagination takes over. Very clever. Your mind starts to wander, imagining what the rest of the room looked like, how many people sat on that couch, and if the couch is still in existence today.
And
… maybe what life was like during those times. I guess you could even imagine yourself on the couch, if you wanted to. That would be more fun, now wouldn’t it?”

“Funny you mention it. That’s exactly what I did.”

“Good for you, a wise man.” The man took another sip of his drink. “And when you imagined yourself on the couch, were you alone?”

“No.”

“Very good. Present or the past?”

“Neither.”

“The future?”

Cedric smiled.

“Ahh,” said the man. “Albert Einstein said, ‘Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.’ I agree.”

“I like that.” Cedric stared back at the couch in the photo and again, pictured Ellie sitting right next to him. They both had gray hair and were holding hands and smiling. It seemed so real. He wanted it to be real. “If only …”

“Of course, there’s only one thing that could get in your way, though. One thing that would kill your imagination.”

“What’s that?”

“Fear.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me this.”

“Fear paralyzes you. You can’t dream or even make small changes with fear in the way. Fear will kill your heart and your mind.”

Cedric turned to the man and stared at him as if he’d just discovered one of life’s greatest mysteries. “That’s deep.” That’s exactly what had been paralyzing Cedric for the last two years.
 

Fear.
 

Something shifted in Cedric’s mind. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he felt an overwhelming sense of peace and relief. He smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Cedric Johnson.”

“Frank Fontaine, pleased to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Cedric thought the man’s name sounded familiar, but he was certain he had never met him before. They moved down to the next photo in the display. It was a shot of Emily Dickinson’s only surviving dress.
 

Cedric frowned. “I’m going to pass on trying to imagine myself in that.”

“You have to draw the line somewhere.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

If Ellie’s jaw were a broom, she could sweep the floor with it. That was how far it just dropped. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing … Grandpa Frank talking with Cedric.
 

    
How did that happen? And what were they talking about? Just look at the two of them. Laughing like they’re best friends!

Cedric looked mighty handsome in his charcoal gray suit, even from across the room.

Dang.
 

Once again, she thought of that kiss they shared before she slapped him, and the long hug after the hospital. She would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy them.

Peggy stepped up to the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen …”

Ellie turned and watched Peggy, who smiled and waved to a few of the guests as they moved closer to the stage. It was a much-needed distraction.
 

“Thank you so much for being here!” Peggy continued. “It means the world to us. I wish we didn’t need to have a fundraiser like this, but I guess life is unpredictable and throws us a curve ball every now and then. The money we raise this evening will go toward replacing the books that were vandalized recently as well as the stolen computers. We were also hoping to have extra to use in other areas of our library.”

Ellie glanced behind her to sneak a peek at Cedric. He was still with Grandpa Frank, watching Peggy speak on stage.
 

Cedric’s eyes drifted to Ellie and she froze, not knowing what to do. Should she smile? Wave? Give him some type of acknowledgment? Before she could come to a decision, he winked at her and smiled.

She swallowed hard and spun back around, now feeling incredible heat in her face and ears.
 

Her timing was perfect. He caught her checking him out. Great. She tried to focus on Peggy’s words, but they seemed to be garbled.

“I’m sappy to pronounce,” said Peggy, “that thanks to your viscosity, we’ve more than secreted our fun blazing holes.”
 

Okay. There was no way Peggy just said that. Ellie was obviously hallucinating and it was Cedric’s fault. Him and that damn wink.

Ellie was pretty sure Peggy was talking about fundraising. She took a couple of deep breaths and tried to focus, since there was a good possibility Peggy was going to announce the new Branch manager.

“In fact,” continued Peggy, “we had a very special anonymous donor who pretty much made damn sure we would be okay for the next five years. Yahoooo! Please enjoy yourselves and I’ll be back with another special announcement later. Thank you very much.”
 

The guests cheered and clapped and whistled as the band started another set of music. Now recovered from Cedric paralysis, Ellie worked her way over to Peggy.

“We did it!” said Peggy, hugging Ellie.

“Yes. What a wonderful evening.”

Ellie lost her smile, along with the ability to move her muscles as she watched Grandpa Frank approach.
 

With Cedric.
 

“Ellie, sweetie, there you are. I wanted to introduce you to a nice gentleman I met in one of the exhibitions. Cedric Johnson, meet my granddaughter, Ellie Fontaine.”

Ellie slowly held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Cedric accepted her hand and kissed it. Her knees wobbled just enough to scare her.
 

“Nice to meet you too … for possibly the tenth time.” He grinned as she tried to pull her hand free. Of course, he didn’t let go.

Peggy laughed. “You kids are so funny, of course they know each other. Cedric is a volunteer at the library.” Peggy mouthed to Cedric the words “thank you.”

“Is that right?” Grandpa Frank looked back and forth between Ellie and Cedric.

“Yes, sir,” Cedric answered, still holding Ellie’s hand.

“Ah. Ellie, is this the young man you told me so much about?”

Ellie felt heat rise up her neck to her face as Cedric raised an eyebrow and grinned. She tried to use her free hand to pull the other hand loose from his vise-like grip, but it was no use. If she was being honest, she couldn’t remember the last time she held a man’s hand and it felt wonderful.
 

“I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” said Grandpa Frank. “Well, then I guess the only one who hasn’t had an official introduction is me. I’m Frank Fontaine, Ellie’s grandfather.”

Peggy extended her hand and Grandpa Frank kissed it.
 

Peggy blushed. “Wonderful. What a pleasure to finally meet you! I’m—”
 

“Peggy Fleming.” Smiling, Grandpa Frank said, “The pleasure is mine.”

Oh. My. God.
 

It was clear to Ellie that there was something going on between Grandpa Frank and Peggy. Did she miss something? It was like an instant attraction. Could it happen that quickly? She thought back to the encounter on the street with Cedric and the UPS truck. She thought they had some sort of an instant connection, but then she was pretty sure it disappeared before the light turned green.