Louisiana Saves the Library (28 page)

C
HAPTER
44

S
al sat at the kitchen table, helping Max assemble a scale model of the Batmobile with Legos while Louise sliced sausage for jambalaya. Zoe stood on a chair in front of the sink, pouring water from one cup to another. The dogs lounged on the couch, fought over toys, and patrolled the kitchen, searching for food scraps. The two pineapple cakes in the oven perfumed the house with the scent of brown sugar and butter. Louise almost never baked, but it was time to meet the Pettigrews and she didn't want to go there empty-handed.

She scraped the andouille into a frying pan and turned on the burner. This was the scene she had pictured before she had children. It had taken a long time to get to this place, and it wasn't perfect, but she was happy. Brendan might think that academia had more prestige than working in a public library, but he was wrong. The people in Alligator Bayou had shown her that what she and Sylvia did mattered more than an obscure academic paper that only a few people would ever read. Together, they had saved the library, but they had also gained something for themselves. Louise had discovered that she was strong—she could stand up to people and get things accomplished. And now, because of the library, she had Sal too. It was a new beginning.

Her phone rang, and she got it out of her purse.

“Louise? This is Marty Pratt. I just wanted to tell you that you got the job. We interviewed Mrs. Gunderson's candidate today, and she basically admitted that she didn't even want it. It was sort of funny, really. Anyway, congratulations.”

Louise stirred the sausage, inhaling the warm, spicy scent. “Thanks! I'm really excited about it.”

“Me too. You deserve it. Have a good evening.”

Louise hung up and immediately dialed a number. “Sylvia, I hear there's a job opening at the University of Iowa. Some crazy person just turned it down to be the director of a crappy little library in rural Louisiana.”

Over at the kitchen table, Sal grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.

Sylvia shrieked so loud that Louise had to hold the phone away from her ear. “Good job, girl!”

 

Louise balanced the cake on one hand and rang the Pettigrews' doorbell. As a joke, they'd left the book-burner sign in their yard and added three others that had been on public right-of-ways.

Ima Pettigrew opened the door, and a grin spread across her wide face. She wore a flower-patterned housedress and fraying slippers. Her gray hair was styled in a stiff-looking pageboy. “Come in, come in. Hunter!”

Max and Zoe hid behind Louise's legs, one child grabbing each thigh. “You all have to let go. I can't walk,” she said.

“Don't be shy, children. I have candy,” Ima said.

Louise shuffled forward and handed her the cake. Ima shut the front door and gestured to the chairs and couch. “Please, sit down.”

The vintage sofa was green plaid with matching pillows, and it faced a TV encased in a wooden console. Two dark-brown armchairs at either side were covered in brown-and-orange afghans. Hope was right—the room looked like a throwback to the 1950s, down to the wood-paneled walls.

Louise couldn't sit down with the children attached to her legs. “I mean it, you guys have to let go.”

Hunter Pettigrew walked in from the kitchen. He was slight, a contrast to his stocky wife, and wore creased slacks and a polo shirt. He leaned down and held out his hand. Max stepped forward and shook it, like a miniature businessman making a deal.

“Come sit on the couch, boy,” Hunter said. Max tiptoed forward and perched on the edge of the sofa.

Hunter sat in the chair next to Max and handed him a metal race car. “Be careful with it. This belonged to my son when he was young.”

Max nodded and held the car nervously.

Ima took the cake to the kitchen and returned with a glass jar of gumdrops. “I have quite the sweet tooth. Always have to have my candy. Why not, right? I've lived long enough to be entitled to a few vices.”

Zoe let go of Louise's leg and put her hand out for a gumdrop.

Ima gave her four. “Share with your brother,” she instructed.

“I'm sorry I didn't come over earlier. I kept meaning to, but it seemed like I was always too busy,” Louise said, sitting on one of the armchairs.

“Don't you feel bad. We should have brought you something when you first moved in. We neglected our neighborly duty. But I'd just had surgery on my hip, and after that Hunter had to have his cataracts done. Well, I guess time got away from us too. Truth is, we were fixing to go see you when Sal came to our house to ask us to help with his book-burning scheme.” Ima laughed and sat on the couch next to Max and Zoe, giving them more gumdrops.

“We haven't had that much fun in years,” Hunter said. “It was such a hoot, driving around with that megaphone and putting up all those signs.”

Ima smiled at her husband. “Sure did wake up the old man. Put a little spring in his step.”

“You all should come down to the library sometime, now that you don't have to avoid me anymore,” Louise said. “Max, do not touch that.”

Max didn't stop his tactile examination of the table lamp. He yanked up the shade and looked underneath.

“I'll show you how to turn it on,” Hunter said, pulling the string. “Maybe we can find us some cartoons on the TV.”

“Our eyes aren't so good for reading anymore,” Ima said.

Hunter turned the knob on the television, and Bugs Bunny appeared in surprisingly vivid color. Both children stared at the screen, gumdrops and cars forgotten.

“But now we have DVDs, CDs, and books on tape,” Louise said. “Plus, there are cooking classes, a quilting circle, knitting classes, all sorts of things to do. I'll bring you our calendar of events.”

“I guess it wouldn't hurt us to get out more, now that my hip is healed up,” Ima said.

“I hear you have a canasta group,” Hunter said.

“You know if they do, Unser might be part of it.” Ima ate a gumdrop.

“I can handle your brother. It's time, especially since he has the cancer. I'll tell him I'm sorry I said that the Vietnam War was a waste of American lives and we'll be all good again. It's been five years, Ima.”

Ima dabbed at her eyes with a tissue from the box on the end table. “You're right, it's time.”

C
HAPTER
45

L
ouise studied the young woman sitting across the table from her. Even though Justine had just graduated from library school and had virtually no experience, Louise had a good feeling about her. She was almost doll-like, with absurdly tiny wrists and a miniature hourglass figure, but she regarded her surroundings fearlessly. And fear, as Louise herself had learned, was the enemy of success, especially in a small town.

As she pretended to study Justine's résumé, Louise tried to imagine the young woman embarking on a journey like her own. She'd begun as an outsider in this insular town, and now she had more friends than she'd ever had in her life.

She had a real office in the new library building, which had been built on the tract of land that had once supported Mr. Foley and his goats. Ms. Trudy had bought the land from Mr. Foley and donated it to the parish. No one knew what had happened to the library director. He'd sold almost everything he owned and left in his pickup truck for places unknown.

After the library tax passed, the parish was able to borrow the money to build the library, and it was finished within a year. While it was being constructed, Louise continued Sylvia's classes and programs with the help of the other librarians. She also married Sal in a small ceremony on his farm with catering by Anthony's. It was a happy year, watching the library and the children grow, building a new and wonderful relationship.

Louise thought about warning Justine about what she was getting into. She might find that she didn't fit into Alligator Bayou at all. On the other hand, she could fall in love with the place. Louise thought about telling her the story of the deer in the old library. Or how, after so many months of suspicion, Hope had finally allowed the Yankee to taste her chicken and dumplings. Or about the B sisters, Ms. Trudy, Mary, and all the other residents who had fought so hard to keep the library open.

There was no way to explain it all to Justine, so she just said, “What do you like to read?”

Justine folded her delicate hands together on the table. “This is sort of embarrassing, but what I really love is young adult novels. Especially with vampires and stuff like that. I know I'm supposed to read deep literature and all, but . . .”

“Perfect. You're hired.” Louise glanced over Justine's shoulder. With the new building, they'd gotten twelve new computers for patrons. The B sisters were huddled over theirs in the corner, and a few other young people near them seemed to be actually doing homework. Mary sat in a beanbag chair, reading
Mind Games
. Next to her was her new best friend, Chante McDonald.

“This the new girl?” Hope had snuck up behind Louise and now stood, hands on hips, studying Justine.

Justine held Hope's gaze. “Pleased to meet you.”

“You another Yankee? 'Cause the last one we had . . . Well, I reckon she turned out okay once we broke her in.”

“I'm from Michigan,” Justine said.

“Hey, ain't that where you're from, Louise?”

“No, Minnesota.”

Hope waved her hand as if to say that all Northern states were essentially the same. “Well, good luck. You'll do fine.”

“I hope so.” Justine stood and picked up her tiny purse.

“Let me introduce you to the rest of the staff,” Louise said.

“Nah, I'll do it.” Hope put her arm around Justine and led her to the back work area. “This here's our new library. Ain't it great?”

T
hanks to my writer friends Sam Irwin, Mark Silcox, James Minton, Greg Langley, and Gene Mearns, who have taught me more about writing than I could ever learn in a classroom.

I am immensely grateful to my agent, Steven Chudney, for all he did to save this book from slush pile obscurity. I am also thankful for my editor, Martin Biro, and the rest of the staff at Kensington.

This book would never have been written without the support, editorial help, and endless patience of my husband, Jon. I also need to thank our kids, Thomas and Audrey, for providing inspiration and an excuse to quit my full-time job.

E
MILY
B
ECK
C
OGBURN
is a freelance journalist and fitness instructor currently living in Louisiana. She has a bachelor of arts degree in philosophy from the University of Minnesota, a master's degree in philosophy from Ohio State University, and a master's degree in library and information science from Louisiana State University. Her interests include cooking stinky food her children hate, yelling at her class participants to do “just one more rep!” and trying to read while handling requests for more chocolate milk. She has two children, two dogs, one cat, and a very patient husband. Visit her on the web at emilycogburn.com.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

 

Kensington Publishing Corp.
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Copyright © 2016 by Emily Beck Cogburn

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

 

 

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eISBN-13: 978-1-61773-994-1
eISBN-10: 1-61773-994-4
First Kensington Electronic Edition: February 2016

ISBN: 978-1-6177-3993-4