Лори Касс - Gone With The Whisker

She shrugged and raised her mug. “Hope this isn’t an odd aftereffect of yesterday’s trauma. That you can’t stay indoors for more than an—” She stopped talking and squinted across the street. At the boardinghouse. “Well, that’s interesting,” she murmured.

The three of us watched a thirty-ish couple laden with backpacks hurry down the front steps, climb into a car topped with two stand-up paddle boards, and drive away.

“Wasn’t that Amy and Zach?” Kate asked.

“It certainly was.” I watched their taillights disappear. “A couple of weeks ago they were kiteboarding, but they’ve moved on. I hear they’re talking about renting a catamaran next weekend.”

Another couple came down the stairs. In their mid-fifties, they went at a more sedate pace, but they, too, had their hands full. Though they had picnic baskets, not backpacks, the contents were undoubtedly similar.

“Bert and Yvette,” I said, and waved. “Have a good day!” I called.

They waved back as they placed their baskets into the bed of Bert’s pickup truck. Yvette smiled. “We’re taking that road you recommended, the one out past the state forest land. Think we can get lost this time?” she asked Bert, turning her face up for a kiss.

“Get a room, you two!” Canary called as she walked out the front door. She was followed by Walter, who closed the door behind them.

“Well, if it isn’t Minnie.” She beamed. “Walter and I are headed to that wonderful toy store. Your friend Mitchell ordered us a new jigsaw and we just got a call that it’s in.”

“Better get going,” Walter said, “or someone might buy it out from under us.”

Canary laughed, but let herself be pulled along, and the elderly couple headed off briskly in the direction of downtown.

“Hmm.” Aunt Frances sipped her coffee, which was still steaming.

“Exactly,” I said. “Despite the appearance of no matchmaking, there is a significant amount of pairing going on.”

“How . . .” My aunt shook her head. And laughed. “You know what? I don’t care how. But you know what? It makes me happy.”

And if my aunt was happy, I was, too.

The three of us sat there for a few minutes, breathing in the morning air, feeling the easy peace of summer.

“So what are you two doing today?” Aunt Frances asked. “After yesterday, I’d say nothing is in order. And if you want to include me in that, I’m ready and waiting.”

Kate smiled. “I can do nothing until noon, but I’m scheduled to work at Older Than Dirt.”

“You sure you want to go in?” I asked. “I can call Pam and explain.”

“Aunt Minnie, I’m fine. What would I do all day anyway? And please don’t tell me pick raspberries.” But she said it with a smile.

Soon, she went off, as did Rafe, who said he had things to pick up before working on the house, and though Graydon had texted that I could take the day off, I decided to stop by the library to check e-mail. Three days of unanswered e-mails and I’d spend half of Monday reading and answering. As it was, I’d spend a good share of Monday morning telling the Shed Story, and there were things I needed to get done.

I slipped in the side door and, looking left and right, scurried into my office, closing the door without anyone seeing me.

Knock, knock.

Then again, it was entirely possible I wasn’t as stealthy as I’d thought. I’d have to ask Eddie for lessons.

My door opened and Graydon poked his head in. “Morning.” He glanced at his watch. “Yes, still morning, barely. Glad I caught you, I didn’t think you’d be in today.” He gestured at my office’s empty chair and, mentally waving good-bye to the productive hour I’d planned, I nodded for him to sit.

“This won’t take long,” he said, getting comfortable. “Did you know the board had a special meeting this morning?”

“Did not.” I felt my brow furrowing. They’d heard about yesterday’s escapade. Once again, I’d made a name for myself and not in a good way. Moral turpitude was included in my employment contract’s termination-for-cause section and they were going to fire me. What was I going to do? I hadn’t finished paying off my student loans, I needed to help Rafe pay for the house, and I didn’t want to sell my houseboat. Plus, I had the best job in the world and couldn’t imagine doing anything else, ever.

Graydon crossed an ankle over his knee. “It was an emergency meeting. Trent called it yesterday morning.”

I put my hand to my forehead and tried to smooth out my skin. Okay, not going to fire me. At least not for what had happened out on Brown’s Road. The library board’s bylaws allowed for emergency meetings, but they were only allowed under special circumstances. “What was it for?”

My boss inspected the sole of his deck shoe. “The attorney advising the board on Stan Larabee’s bequest is in town this weekend, and she wanted to give the board her final recommendation.” Graydon smiled. “Which they voted to adopt, all in favor.”

“You look pleased,” I said cautiously.

“Every penny will go into the Stan Larabee Endowment. There’s enough capital to generate healthy annual dividends and the board, with oversight from Mr. Larabee’s attorney, will make decisions on how to use that money, with Mr. Larabee’s wishes regarding the bookmobile a guiding principle on disbursements.”

I tried to do the mental math on how long it would take to get enough dividends to buy a new bookmobile. Failed completely.

“It’s the wisest possible use of the bequest,” Graydon said.

“Sounds like something a lawyer would say.”

“Direct quote,” he agreed. “There’s just a couple of things. Mr. Larabee must have been quite a character, because his will included two, ah, interesting requests. He wanted to have the next bookmobile painted in his favorite color, purple.”

“And that sounds like Stan,” I said softly.

Graydon eyed me. “Minnie, I thought you’d be happy.”

“Oh, I am. It’s just . . .” I smiled, albeit sadly. “It’s just this was the last thing Stan left behind. Now it’s over and Stan really feels gone.”

“Au contraire.” Graydon stood. “Mr. Larabee’s endowment will last essentially forever. The way I see it, this is only the beginning.”

He was right, and by the time he’d left my office, I was ready to say so. “You’re right,” I called after him, and received an “I know. See you tomorrow” in reply.

“Well, there you go,” I said to the empty air. “It’ll be a little like Stan is watching over us.” And somehow, I got the feeling of a nod from Mr. Larabee himself.

* * *

An hour later, I tiptoed back outside. Donna spotted me, but she averted her eyes when I held up my index finger in the universal “Shh!” gesture.

“See you tomorrow,” she said as I went by. “Hope you’re bringing provisions, because I anticipate a long story at break time.”

Small towns being what they are, how she knew about the shed less than twenty-four hours later was a mystery only in the specifics. “I’ll stop at Cookie Tom’s,” I promised, and escaped into the sunshine.

Half a block later, my phone beeped with an incoming text.

Rafe: had lunch?

Minnie: I was planning on stopping at Shomin’s. Do you want me to get you something?

Rafe: don’t buy food all here

Minnie (while smiling at her phone): Could you please spell that out in proper English, with punctuation to ensure proper communication?

Rafe: can but not gonna-see U soon

Laughing, I shut down my phone and started walking faster as I wondered what Rafe was planning. Fat Boys subs were always a winner, but maybe he’d gone all out and fired up the grill. We hadn’t had hamburgers in at least a week so he was probably on the edge of withdrawal.