Beauty's Kiss(38)
Callan took another long drink. “Thing is, Troy, our mother was with your father.”
Troy went cold all over.
For a moment he couldn’t think, or speak. For a moment there was just silence, and then a buzzing in his head. The sound a radio station makes when you haven’t dialed in properly to the right channel.
The buzzing continued unabated.
And he thought of his mom. Not his dad.
Was this why?
Was this the reason for her terrible sadness? For her endless loneliness?
Troy stared blindly down into the pale gold of his beer. He couldn’t believe it.
And yet...
He could.
Bev Carrigan and his dad?
“You’re sure?” he asked roughly.
“Yep.” Her voice was quiet, her expression strained.
Shit.
He wished he’d never stopped in at Grey’s. Wished he’d gone straight from dinner to his room. Wished he could have avoided this conversation tonight. Wished he could have avoided this conversation for the rest of his life. “Does everyone know?”
“No one knows. Just you, me, and my sisters.”
He drank, and then set the glass down and pushed the half empty glass away. “Lucky you, me, and your sisters,” he muttered, reaching for his wallet to drop a five and a couple ones on the counter.
He rapped his knuckles on the counter to let Grey know he was leaving and then glanced down at Callan who suddenly looked very small and young on the bar stool. “My dad’s dying,” he said bluntly.
She nodded once, her dark braid slipping across her shoulder. “Dillon told me.”
“But you didn’t tell Dillon about the affair?”
She shook her head. “He’s the one who moved home to take care of your dad. Doesn’t seem fair to lay this on him, too.” She managed a tight, tough-girl smile. “But you’re Troy, the V.C. I figured your big shoulders could handle the truth.”
Chapter Nine
Thursday afternoon Louise came bounding up the stairs to the second floor landing where Taylor was adding some of the photos and memorabilia of Marietta in 1914 to the second floor display cabinet. Taylor had found them in a box in the library’s storage vault and thought it was the perfect time to change displays with the Valentine Ball tomorrow, which launched the 100 year anniversary of the Great Wedding Giveaway.
“Does Margaret know you’re doing this?” Louise asked, stooping to get a look at the faces in one of the photographs.
“Nope.”
“She might not like it. She was very partial to the agriculture display. Her dad was a farmer.”
“Yes, I know. But the display was almost twenty-three years old. I think a change is in order.” Taylor sat back and dusted her hands on a soft cloth she’d picked up at the Mercantile on Main Street. “And what is she going to do? Fire me? She can’t. She didn’t hire me.”
“You’re feisty today.”
“I’m just tired of tiptoeing around, afraid of incurring Margaret’s displeasure. This library is in the dark ages. It’s time it embraced change and technology. Kids read on iPhones and tablets and we should at the very least have New Adult and Young Adult books available for them as downloads.” And yes, Taylor silently added, she was still smarting after this morning’s meeting where Margaret rejected every single book Taylor had suggested as an interesting read for the local teenagers. Margaret still thought Nancy Drew was the leading series for girls. She couldn’t accept that young adults today might enjoy vampires, werewolves, witches or apocalyptic literature stories featuring strong heroines.
“Well, I support you,” Louise said. “And you’ll have a say in the librarian that’s hired to replace me, so be patient and know that change is coming.”
“I’m trying,” Taylor answered, positioning a new black and white photo of Marietta High with its graduating class of 1914 against a trophy dated 1914 before straightening. “Where is Margaret by the way? Still at the dentist?”
“Yes.”
“Good. And I’m finished here, so maybe she won’t even notice. She rarely comes upstairs anymore.”
“I’m glad you’re finished here because you need to come down. Something’s arrived for you. It’s in the staff room.”
“Books?”
“No.”
“Magazines?”
“No.”
Information on the ALA conference this summer?”
“No.”
What then?”
“Just come see,” Louise said firmly, but still beaming and clearly quite excited about something.
Taylor dusted her hands off, closed and locked the glass cabinet door before following Louise downstairs, behind the circulation desk, through the small office to the tiny staff room behind.