:
The Librarian’s Daughter
The Story of Abi VanHaven
Copyright © 2013 by M.M. Gavillet
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of the book may be used or reproduced in any manner without the written permission from the author. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidences are the product of the author’s imagination, any resemblance to real events, locations, persons living or dead, are purely a coincidence.
Front and back cover designed by M.M. Gavillet.
Also by M.M. Gavillet
Blackbird Trilogy
Gathering of Blackbirds
Band of Blackbirds
Alliance of Blackbirds(October 2013)
Coming 2014!
The Librarian’s Daughter
The Story of Sage Greene
&
The Librarian’s Daughter
The Story of Meg Hawthorne
This book is dedicated to my loving family and fearless librarians everywhere!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I have to thank all of my village people-you should know who you are by now! I have to thank my husband who miraculously still puts up with my writing obsession and to Ashley for always being Ashley and to Kyle for always making me laugh! I have to thank Shani the proof reading-plot questioning-hair styling extraordinaire! And to my mother-in-law—you’re simply perfect! And to the lovely Sabina—a real librarian’s daughter! And as always—to my dad who I think still looks down at me when least expected.
Chapter One
“I’m giving you one week,” Jenna slid her eyes over to my half-filled boxes and then back at me holding up one finger to make sure I understood what one meant, “to get your stuff out, got it?” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the floor like a war drum.
“Yeah, got it,” I glared at her.
She tightened her perfectly pink lips, spun on her tiny feet twirling her perfectly pressed flower printed dress and left me in a cloud of putrid smelling perfume. But I guess there’s nothing strong enough to mask the scent of nasty.
Jenna went to join my other cousins in the kitchen where they had their powwow for their next plan of action since my Aunt Kathleen died. She had been my legal guardian ever since I was two when mother died and my father was nowhere to be found. She was the only mother I ever knew and she wasn’t much of one.
Looking back I don’t think she ever wanted to be a mother, she was simply stuck with me out of duty. No, she didn’t malnourish me, hide me in a closet or basement, or make me do all the chores by myself, Kathleen was simply an empty shell of a person.
I did miss her, like someone would miss a neighbor they seen every day, but I didn’t deeply mourn her, if fact, I thought to myself, I’ve never really mourned anyone deeply—not even my mother. I missed her greatly, but how could you mourn someone you never knew—I just mourned the memories and times I never got to spend with her.
I placed a few items slowly into the boxes glancing up at my cousins talking among themselves. Aunt Kathleen never had any children of her own, never married and all the time I was growing up I’ve never seen her with the company of a man ever. I was the only child she raised. There were three sisters, Kathleen, the oldest, Dorothy, the middle child who passed away about five years ago and Emma, my mother who died before I had any really good memories of her. Dorothy was the mother of my war-party-cousins that as far as I was concerned, were nothing but spoiled brats. They had money, looks and the arrogant attitude to go with it. I picked up my packing pace wanting nothing more than to get away from them.
Jenna glanced at me in even intervals to observe my packing to make sure I was doing my job.
I didn’t have much since most of the furniture, antiques and appliances were going to be auctioned off. Jenna stated over and over that she was the executor over the estate and that meant the control freak. I didn’t care though, I didn’t have any sentimental attachment to anything here, and only the few items I held dear to me were the few items that were my mother’s.
“I always liked that hairbrush,” Meg said looking down at me with her green eyes and brown hair that hung like silk. “Remember we used to brush each other’s hair with it.” She knelt down beside me.
“Yeah, that was a long time ago.” I glanced at her. She ran her fingers over the frayed bristles almost like she was trying to touch a memory.
Meg was the nicest of my four cousins. She played with me as a child and didn’t tell all the other kids at school that I was a leper when I had a bad case of poison ivy. Jenna came up with enough dirt for two people on me.
“You know you’re still welcome to come and stay with Nate and me until you find a place of your own.” Her voice was encouraging.
Meg was married to a budding lawyer that headed his way up the totem pole as if he were a starving shark. They lived about an hour away in Minton that was far from the small, slowly evaporating, nowhere town of Applewood. They lived in a large house that looked like it fell out of a magazine with a cloud of dust onto a perfectly manicured lawn that was mowed by I’m sure one of their many hired help. Meg and Nate had no children, but lots of money.
I shrugged my shoulders as she prodded for me to come. I could probably live there and if I stay of sight long enough, they would probably forget I was even there. I agreed, to Meg’s invite to stay temporarily—until I found my own place. Besides, any sane person wouldn’t decline the lap of luxury to sleeping in some cockroach infested motel.
When I left the two bedroom, white, ranch style house, I felt a piece of me was being ripped off like a skinned knee. I had to make a clean cut. I had to start my life—whatever that was, I didn’t know yet. I forced myself to look forward and not look back as I rode away in Meg’s black SUV with the three large boxes that contained clothes, personal items and a few mementos from my childhood. Jenna would be pleased I didn’t need the whole week.
Meg’s house was all stone and brick and pillars wrapped in perfectly trimmed shrubs and large pots of flowers exploding with brilliant colors. It was past midday and the sun shone behind the house etching it with a bead of golden light almost like it had its very own halo, but I knew it was far from a slice of heaven despite its deceiving looks.
The house was empty and smelled of lilacs from the cleaners that the cleaning lady scrubbed the house with. I looked around at all the tile, plush carpeting that looked like no one ever walked on, the golden stained oak trim and the graceful curving staircase that led to the upper levels. Above my head hung a chandelier of thousands of clear, black beads all glistening in the light that illuminated it.
“Wow.” Even though I kept my voice soft, it still managed to echo in the large room. “Your house is beautiful.” I smiled as I’m sure Meg had heard that statement a thousand times and smiled with a thank you I’m sure she has also done a thousand times. I can picture Nate bringing his bosses, clients or whoever he wanted to impress here and she would always get the same response. I watched her look around like we were in a museum and something flickered just under the surface of Meg’s eyes that was gone before I could put my finger on it.
“Nate and I like it,” she said looking around. “Abi, let me show you to our guest room.”
The guest room was nothing what I would call a guest room. My version of a guest room was a spare room with a pull out bed and filled with stuff that really doesn’t have a place in the house or a place where someone would store their artificial Christmas tree. I stopped in the doorway and felt like I had just entered
a suite at some five star hotel.
“Megs,” I said with my eyes on the large bed and elaborate trim that framed the room. “This is your guest room?”
She laughed a little longer than someone would do in response to my amazement. She then sat on the bed and folded her hands in her lap. “No one has called me Megs in…I don’t know how long.” That something twinkled behind her eyes again.
I walked up to her and knelt in front of her trying to catch it before she let it go again.
“What, what is it?” I asked in a soft voice.
Meg turned her head to look out the window at the picturesque view that she has probably looked at hundreds of times and now just stared blankly into the beauty of all the greenness.
“Remember how we used to play princess when we were little?” She walked over to the window pulling back the gauzy sheer curtains.
“I remember you and I starting to play it and then Jenna overthrowing us with Paul and Will as her two guards. She would always push us out of that rocker—you remember the one with all of the intricate carving that we used as a throne.” Paul and Will were my other two cousins that the only way to describe them is as male versions of Jenna, only Jenna always had the upper hand on them.
“I thought I was getting that Abi. I thought my life would be like…” Her eyes fell with darkness of untold miseries that I could only watch as tiny pools of water formed in the corner of her eyes. She caught them before they fell as the footsteps and Nate’s voice calling for Meg came down the hallway.
“In here.” Her voice returned to its happy-go-lucky tone.
Nate stood in the doorway. His broad shoulders led to strong arms and his molded black hair curved into perfect waves that surrounded his olive colored skin. He was about thirty, but to me looked much older, a sort of forced mature look that encased him.
He was still dressed in his grey suit and stiffened upon seeing me.
“Abigail,” he smiled coldly.
“Nathaniel,” I returned his name in the same cool tone.
“She’s just staying for a short while until she finds a place.” Meg stood in front of him and spoke in a low voice. “You know, with the sale and all… and Jenna…”
“Really, I will be gone by the weekend.” I cut in to end Meg’s babbling excuse. “I’m looking for an apartment tomorrow.” I shook my head and used a warmer tone trying to cool Nate’s aggravated expression—for Meg’s sake.
“Nonsense, you can stay until you find something.” His words were forced with niceness and I really didn’t want to come here, but it was better than sharing a room with roaches. “We have guests tonight, Barnabus Wynters and his wife will be coming so you have to fix something low fat and healthy with lots of vegetables, O.K.?” His voice took the tone of how you would talk to a toddler not your wife.
“Alright,” Obediently she replied and shook her head as Nate kissed her on the cheek. Meg stiffened like Jack Frost had planted a kiss on her.
Nate left with a nod and a cool stare in my direction. Maybe he was Jack Frost.
“Well, I’ve better get started. I might have to run to the grocery store.” I could see Meg running through her recipe book she stored in her head.
“I can go to the store for you if you need anything.” I offered really wanting to say what the hell was that?
Meg went through her pantry and decided to make something simple: baked chicken with her special seasoning, steamed potatoes and fresh green beans. The only thing she needed was the green beans and I finally persuaded her to let me help her. I didn’t know how else to help her and I really wish I could.
Meg and Nate lived just outside the growing town of Minton along the Mississippi River. Minton had recently reopened one of the factories there that makes the large windmill blades used in the production of generating electricity by wind power. This brought in people from the surrounding area the much needed work to keep the small community afloat. It was a flashlight in the dark to many that struggled. I only looked at the factory as I drove by.
The spring air was cool that brushed across my face from the rolled down window of Meg’s SUV. I flipped the radio station and turned on the headlights passing by the tall trees of the state park.
Suddenly, a memory flashed in my head of my Aunt Kathleen and me going on a picnic there. She did like the outdoors and I did too. It was the only place I had ever seen her smile, I mean really smile, because you were happy, not forced to make good face. I let out a sigh as I came into town.
Minton had a small grocery store and a couple of gas stations. It was a neat town, clean with no bar to support the local drunks like it used to. I didn’t come here that much growing up, except to the park of course, but something didn’t feel right to me.
The parking lot was large enough to accommodate the gas station next to it. The windows were brightly polished with vividly colored store ads proclaiming their sales inside. I quickly went inside and found the produce aisle. Everything looked fresh except of course for the supposed to be fresh green beans. I hated green beans anyhow and picked through them the best I could. I didn’t want Meg getting a spanking from her husband. He was always belittling her and I shook my head just thinking about it.
“There’s more in the back if you aren’t finding what you like,” a voice said behind me. “Do you want me to go and get you some?”
I looked over and met the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. I started to reply with a friendly “no thank you”, but the words got caught and I stood there choking on them. He was gorgeous, not grocery store material, it looked like he should be working out in a gym recording a fitness CD or modeling clothes somewhere. His dark hair was short up the sides and in slight waves over his forehead framing his summer sky blue eyes. He was a little taller than me, which was nice because I’m five foot eight and he must’ve been at least six foot, if not over since I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes.
In my awkward moment of trying to get audible words out, he smiled at me. I half expected a camera crew to pop out behind the tall tower of apples stating I was on a reality T.V. show having gorgeous guys catch girls off guard in unexpected places just to see their reaction. If it was, I would spend my fifteen minutes of fame looking like an idiot.
“Oh, no, I don’t want to trouble you.” I finally got words out and they sounded lame.
“No, I don’t mind, that’s what I do.”
That’s what he does, helps girls find fresh green beans. I tried to not let anything become of my curiosity of him because relationships, I wasn’t good at.
He came back with a crate of fresh green beans and I just grabbed a handful of them putting them into the plastic bag.
“If you purchase a reusable bag, you can get five cents off.” He raised his eyebrows at the proposed deal and smiled.
“No thanks, I’m shopping for someone else. Maybe next time, thank you.”
I pushed myself away like someone on a strict diet while resisting a dessert bar that was within reach. He nodded his head and we parted.
I purchased the green beans and went out into the parking lot. I reached in my pocket for the keys to find they weren’t there. I could’ve sworn I put them in there. I stopped under the lonely streetlight as dark clouds of a sudden spring storm blocked out the sun forcing the lights to come on prematurely. I searched my purse thinking I could’ve thrown them in there, I don’t know why I do this to myself and I don’t know why I can’t keep track of the simplest things. I can hear Aunt Kathleen scold me now.
“Honestly girl, if your head wasn’t attached you’d be headless by now and someone would have an extra head somewhere.” I mumbled my aunt’s saying under my breath hoping the few patrons in the parking lot heard me.
I wasn’t giving up and I didn’t want to call Meg telling her I lost her keys. And now it was going to storm. I looked up at the thickening sky rumbling in a low growl of thunder. I put the green beans on the hood
and dumped my purse out after I thoroughly checked my pockets. They were here somewhere. Two big drops of rain thumped like a fist on the Meg’s SUV.
“Oh, good you’re still here.” The grocery boy came up behind me.
Startled, I turned standing in front of the spilled out contents of my purse, I didn’t want him to see the life I had in there.
“You dropped these. I found them when I was sweeping.” He held the keys between his fingers.
“Thanks,” I said with a smile taking them and shoving everything into my extra-large purse. I then snapped the bulging thing shut hoping nothing popped out.
He stood there for a moment as I unlocked the door, threw in the green beans and my purse. I could feel his examining stare. He didn’t move, but watched me. I slid my eyes over to him not trying to make eye contact. Most people would give you your keys, say thank you or you’re welcome and go.
“You’re not from here,” he said crossing his arms with an inquisitive voice.
“What?” I asked thinking this was turning into something I didn’t want it to. Maybe he was a rapist or something.
I was jumping to crazy conclusions. I stopped myself before the panic and fear of my overactive imagination got the best of me. Unfortunately, my surroundings were not in my favor. The black sky’s rumbling intensified as more streetlights flickered on and most of the customers had left or were in the store.
“Most people here don’t even lock their front doors at night let alone their cars at the grocery store.” He did have an innocent boyish look to him, something that was on the verge of manhood and overall he certainly didn’t look dangerous, but sometimes the most dangerous have a tendency to look that way.
He looked at me from my feet to my messy hair. Goosebumps scattered up and down my arms.
“I’m visiting family, thank you,” I said getting in Meg’s car with a slam of the door and a click of the lock. He backed away slightly still looking at me. I turned the ignition and sped off leaving him in a cloud of dust.
I went down the road looking more in my rear view mirror than in front of me. The storm unleashed and pounding rain smacked against the vehicle.
I was shaking slightly at the thoughts that ran through my head and embarrassed at the same time. He was good looking and engaged in conversation with me. He was probably harmless, but my insides always told me differently, like I had to be on guard for something. I resolved a long time ago I was or had gone crazy, I just didn’t tell anyone.
“What took so long?” Meg scoffed with the rumble of thunder accompanying her voice. “The chicken is done and everything has to be done at certain times or…” She hastily put the green beans in a steamer and put the lid on them.
I watched her. She was only three years older than me, but she looked like she had aged ten years since she started dinner.
“Or what Meg?” I gingerly placed my hand on her forearm stopping her from polishing the already polished counter.
Meg lowered her head letting her dark hair shroud her face. Her shoulders shook and then she buried her face onto my shoulder and I just hugged her.
Dinner was served promptly at seven just as the storm passed. I could hear the voices from the kitchen and glad I wasn’t in there. Meg invited me, but Nate’s eyes uninvited me. I didn’t think a destitute cousin without some fancy degree that doesn’t know lots of fifty cent words would make a good impression. Besides, I like to be the spectator.
There was lots of small talk, laughing and complements on how nice their house was. I listened to Meg, she wasn’t the crumpled housewife I cradled just an hour ago. She was a million miles away from that. She laughed and talked like a queen full of so much etiquette that it spilled onto the silk table cloth that complemented the drapes and woodwork.
I was amazed at how well she composed herself to pull off her façade of the perfect housewife.
Dinner faded into dessert and then drinks in their smaller living room beside the dining room. All the time I stayed in the kitchen quietly watching T.V. and eating a baked potato. Meg came in a few times and I helped her put the cheesecake on plates and drizzle it with raspberry sauce. Then, I licked the spoon we used to get the sauce out of the bowl it had been chilled in, what else did Meg expect from a destitute, backwards cousin? She only gave me a cold look as I shrugged my shoulders; evidentially she was still in the good-housekeeping-wife-mode yet and licking the spoon was against the rules.
I grew bored and was going to go up to the guest bedroom, when I past the library. A light was on and it caught my eye as I passed by. Even though Nate had money, he hated to waste it and I can remember him telling Meg to always turn the lights off when not in use. I stopped suddenly feeling a draft brush over my cheek from the cracked door. It swayed slightly from the cool air current and then stopped. I stood there peeking through the slim opening and all I could see was a desk and the book shelves framing it.
I lifted my hand to push the door open then hesitated. I knew it was snooping and even though Meg showed me this room earlier on my tour, I knew I shouldn’t just help myself. But what if the window was open? Nate certainly didn’t want to heat the outside, besides it was going to rain and I didn’t want Meg to get in trouble with Daddy Warbucks.
The room swirled in a combination of tobacco and vanilla, almost like someone had smoked vanilla. I looked back at the door I opened just enough for me to pass and then at the dim desk lamp that was still on. I walked over to the window, my only concern was to make sure it was closed and it was. But where did the strange air current come from—the furnace? Maybe.
Meg had given me the quick tour earlier and even though books weren’t my thing, I couldn’t help but to glance at them. I walked by the shelves running my finger on the edge. I guess I was curious at Meg’s super housecleaning abilities and wasn’t surprised when I looked at my dust-free index finger.
The book cases went from ceiling to floor filled with leather bound books in browns, blacks, greens and burgundies. They were unison in size of thickness and height. Again it looked like a room out of a magazine. There were no scattered papers on the shiny desk or a divider holding bills to be paid. This office didn’t worry about the small mundane things; it was above all of that. This was simply a fancy, arrogant office beyond the normality of everyday life. This was the office of Nathaniel Hawthorn.
I was in my own world as I looked around the room and then realized that Nate’s voice was on the other side and the door slowly pushed opened.
“Your collection of books is amazing,” Barnabus said after entering the room.
It was times like this I wished I was a little person. Thankfully the desk went all the way to the floor and was very deep and dark, I scrunched in the corner the best I could and held my breath. I hoped Nate didn’t sit down and kick me with his boat-sized feet.
“Any leads?”
Nate let out a deep sigh. “No.” He simply stated.
“My investors are not patient people, Nathanial. They are used to results.” Barnabus’s footsteps went around the room.
“I’m close.”
Barnabus quit walking followed by a few seconds of silence.
“How close?”
“Very.”
I let out the large breath I was holding after they left the room thanking God I didn’t have to explain why Meg’s red headed cousin was hiding under Nate’s desk. But, I couldn’t help to ponder on their conversation. Who were the investors expecting results and how close was Nate to whatever he was to produce for them? I certainly wasn’t a lawyer and I didn’t know what they talked about, but that didn’t sound like lawyer talk to me.
I went up to the guest room where I knew I wasn’t a wanted guest but more like a pest. Tomorrow I was going to find a job and a cheap apartment somewhere.
Nate left early and a note on the table left by Meg said she had errands to run and a hair appointment to go to—she would be
gone all day. She ended her note with a smiley face.
I looked at the note for a moment. Meg had changed and at the same time not changed so much. She wanted a fairytale marriage, but they don’t exist, I was smart enough to know that. I guess Meg was just hopeful and saw the tall, handsome, Superman Nate as her prince. At least she had money and a place to stay, but to me, it wasn’t worth the price. Being a caged bird isn’t my life’s ambition.
Aunt Kathleen had left me a small sum of money which I left it in an account I had at the bank and didn’t touch it. I was a frugal person and careful on how I spent things.
To get to town Meg told me I could drive their smaller extra car, Nate and Meg took the big, black SUV—dang. I looked at the little, simple, blue car that shined from the overhead garage light. Extra car, really, most people are lucky to have one car and they have three, just the two of them. The other vehicle was a big truck that looked like it could have the little blue car for lunch.
I really was starting to like the car. It wasn’t too big and it wasn’t too little to accommodate my long legs. It sat low to the ground and had bucket seats and the radio sounded awesome.
I decided to go to the business square in downtown Minton. It was clean with a courthouse in the center that chimed every hour. It was made of stone with four levels. It looked like a castle surrounded by a mishmash of several business all sandwiched together.
The sun was out and a cool spring breeze blew tiny bits of paper down the wide sidewalk. It was Wednesday and there weren’t very many people out and I really wasn’t sure I would find something since I didn’t know what I was looking for.
I sat on a park bench for a while looking at a few of the businesses that were still businesses. There was a beauty shop called Headhunters, a thrift shop called Bea’s, a small café called The Lonely Cow and down a ways on the corner, was a flower shop called Just Thyme. I’ve always liked flowers and had a small garden at Aunt Kathleen’s house. She liked the garden too, even though she never worked in it.
A few puffy clouds overhead blocked the sun for a few moments causing the spring air to chill slightly. A lady dressed in a green apron came out of the flower shop and put a sign on the sidewalk with colorful balloons attached to it. I decided to go and check it out.
The glass front shop had colorful displays of tulips in pots surrounded by little figurines of bunnies and wicker baskets. Entering the shop I was greeted by many different scents from sweet to earthy. The store inside had a tall, metal ceiling and richly stained crown molding. Displays were everywhere and glass shelves lined the brick walls. Low, twinkling music filled the air. I stood in the middle of it all feeling like I had walked into another world.
“Can I help you?” a voice said behind me.
I turned to see the lady with the green apron. She was a little shorter than me with loosely pulled up brown hair, creamy white skin and almond shaped hazel eyes. She stood with a stained rag in hand and waited for my reply.
“I was just looking,” I quickly replied. “Your parrot tulips in the window are pretty.” I pointed behind me at the yellow and red tulips with fringed petals.
She smiled. “Thank you. Let me know if you need anything.”
I looked around at the antiques mixed with the new knick-knacks and then at her flower case and potted house plants. I looked around for about forty-five minutes and knew this wasn’t getting an apartment found or a job.
“I really like your ferns, how do you keep them so nice? I’ve had them before and they usually die when I bring them in the house.” I was serious about my question as the lady tilted her head and smiled at me.
“I don’t think I have ever had a young girl ask me that before, much less even come into the store just to look around. You must really like flowers.” Her voice, I didn’t notice before, had an accent to it I couldn’t place.
“Well, I used to have a garden at my aunt’s house, but she passed away recently.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She replied in a sincere voice as I’m sure she is used to dealing with grieving people one moment to happy people the next when they come in to buy flowers.
I shrugged my shoulders and changed the subject. “Do you force your tulips yourself?” I looked over my shoulders at the large window front. Tulips weren’t in bloom now and usually were frozen in a freezer for a couple of weeks then ‘forced’ to grow before their natural time.
Again, she smiled before she replied and this time her eyes twinkled. “Yes, I do and I try to pick a variety out.” She looked at me shifting her weight back and forth. “You know a little bit about plants then, don’t you?” She was inquisitive.
I looked at her for a moment. I didn’t think myself as a plant expert, but I did like them. “I, uh, like flowers and houseplants and vegetable gardens.” I slowly replied.
She smiled again. “It’s nice to see a younger generation enjoy something that is as old as time itself.” She stepped out behind the wood counter. “Would you like to see my greenhouse?”
“Sure,” I replied.
“By the way my name is Grace, Grace Spears.” She turned around. “I should’ve introduced myself first. I guess I forgot my manners.”
“That’s O.K., I’m Abi VanHaven.” We shook hands and smiled at each other. Grace motioned to go through the small wooden door that leads to the back of the building.
The greenhouse was small, but it was also back behind the store and there wasn’t much space. It looked like she had pushed every inch of space she could without disturbing the other business owners.
Inside the greenhouse she had some small tomato, cabbage, broccoli and some geranium cuttings. She told me she used to have several greenhouses and sold plants wholesale to other businesses and then after her husband died it was too much for her, so she decided to open a flower shop. We spent the next hour talking about plants, family—mostly hers. I tried to keep vague about mine.
“I’ve always wanted to do this, but it is hard and…I was looking for some help.” She looked at me and I shook my head as I looked at a hanging basket of begonias that had blooms on them like roses.
“I would love to work in a place like this,” I said not catching onto her job offer at first.
I looked at her and she smiled with raised eyebrows. “Well…would you like to give it a try?”
“You mean work here?”
“Yes.” She laughed.
“I would love to.”
I was overjoyed and now a working girl. At least I was headed in some direction. We went up front and I filled out an application and had to tell her my current situation for living arrangements.
I actually looked forward to work every day even though I didn’t make much, it was something. Ever since I graduated high school my life has resembled the scattered leaves of fall blowing in the wind. I attended a local community college when I quit not knowing what exactly I wanted to do. I then worked at department store in the mall, became manager only the store went out of business and then Aunt Kathleen died. I wasn’t sure if it was me or my timing, but I felt like I was in a whirlwind without a clue what to do. Things though were going good now and my employment with Grace was wonderful. I felt I was nestling into my niche.
I spend a lot of hours here mostly to get away from Meg hounding me to go to school, find a good career because I wasn’t going anywhere working at Just Thyme, like she had room to talk. She started school and then met Nate and has been his little lap puppy since. At the same time I didn’t want to listen to her, I knew she was right and even thought of going into horticulture at a university—somewhere.
The spring grew in strength and I didn’t realize that Grace had an amazing clientele. She had unique things in her store she said and made sure you couldn’t find in one of those overrated ‘superstores’.
“Let’s put some of those tomatoes into larger pots, they’re starting to set buds on.” Grace hand
ed me a pair of garden gloves.
I went out back and was in my own world thinking of everything from what school I should go to—I just turned nineteen and most of the kids in my class had a lot of school behind them and then I thought about how I would pay for it. Aunt Kathleen didn’t leave me that much and before I got a headache, I decided to think about something else when someone clearing their throat caught my attention. I looked up to see the boy from the grocery store. A sudden rush of adrenaline filled my stomach. I was embarrassed for the way I reacted when he was kind enough to bring me my keys. I don’t know why I act that way. It’s almost like a disease.
“Grace said there were tomatoes ready back here,” he said as I stood wide eyed.
His blue eyes nearly matched the sky behind him almost like the two colors were in synch. He was dressed in a black T-shirt and faded jeans. He was attractive, even though I wasn’t sure about him.
“Yeah, over there,” I pointed with my dirt stained glove behind me.
“Are you still visiting family or did you move here?” he asked.
“What?” I asked sharply. I could feel the over cautious, overly protective of myself grow just like the tomatoes did in just two days.
He bent down and picked up a tray of tomatoes. “Did you move here?” He asked again. “I thought since you work for Grace and living with the Hawthorns’ that they must be your family or, at least friends of the family especially since you’re driving one of their cars.”
He smiled and I glared at him. Why was he so interested in weather I lived here or not? It really wasn’t any of his business and I never really cared for anyone knowing my whereabouts and watching me. My inner paranoia was beginning to erupt and I couldn’t stop it. I had to nip this in the bud if he was some pervert.
“What the hell are you doing? Following me?” I pointed the small, pointed spade towards him flicking a few crumbs of dirt off.
He took a step back and I lowered the spade realizing I spoke before thinking about what was coming out of mouth.
“Uh, no…” he said through the tomatoes. “I wouldn’t do that. Grace, she told us about you.”
I could feel my cheeks flush. He was a strange boy, but I looked like a deranged lunatic with a pointed spade paranoid at who might be watching me. I had always felt that way—like someone was watching me and living with Aunt Kathleen had made me that way. We had no “man of the house” to protect us even though our town was small, it had its fair share of hoodlums.
“By the way my name is Kelan.” He smiled, nodded his head and left with the tray of tomatoes.
I didn’t tell Grace about the whole Kelan incident, and she didn’t say anything either. I hoped he didn’t say anything to her because the whole thing was embarrassing.
It was dark when I got home and as usual I removed my shoes before going inside Meg’s house and quietly shut the door behind me. The SUV was gone and since the house was dark, Nate and Meg must’ve gone out for the evening. I wanted to get my own place and I was close to having enough rent for an apartment downtown.
I went upstairs, got a shower and then went into the guest bedroom to get dressed.
I dropped the towel not bothering to turn on the light and opened the drawer to get out a pair of underwear.
“You know I’ve always wanted a redhead.” Nate’s voice echoed behind me as a small lamp flicked on.
Without thinking, I turned ramming my shoulder into the opened drawer and dropped my lace panties that floated to the floor like spider’s silk that floats in the air during autumn sometimes. For a split second I stood with my mouth hung open as Nate looked at my underwear with raised eyebrows.
“Nice,” he said as I snatched the towel holding it to cover my bare body.
“What are you doing?” I hissed clutching the towel around me.
His eyes were glazed over and he sat the glass he had in his hand down carefully on the dresser. I thought of leaving and going back into the bathroom, but I didn’t have anything better in there to cover up with.
“Come on Abi, I know how the girls from your family are.” He smiled and casually sat there like he had the right to look at me naked.
“You’re drunk.” I grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt and turned to go out the door when Nate stood in front of me.
He had his hand on the knob and a stone-like expression of seriousness on his face. He moved quickly, almost unnaturally human quick. I gazed at him not sure what was going to happen.
“I don’t play games and I have a proposition for you, especially your current situation—you could use some assistance.” Nate’s voice was soft and he smiled slightly with a raise of his eyebrows.
“Look, I’m not into some things.” If he wanted some kinky, family sex orgy, he was not only arrogant, but weird as well. “I found an apartment and I have a job. I’m moving out.”
Just then the door slammed shut downstairs followed by Meg’s voice.
“I offered and the guardianship had hopes for you VanHaven.” Nate opened the door and left.
I stood with the towel wrapped around me and my skin nearly dried. I shut the door, got dressed and sat on the bed. He had just caught a glimpse of me naked—the first man ever to do so and it didn’t bother me as much as what Nate had said. The guardianship… what was that and why did they have high hopes for me?
Guessing what Nate does and belongs to really didn’t involve me, I’ve never liked him. But, the conversation in the library with Barnabus Wynters and now some mysterious guardianship that had high hopes for me intrigued me. My curiosity was peaked and if Meg was involved in something she didn’t know about, she could be hurt. I decided not to tell her about the naked incident—it would boil down to my word against Nate’s. It wasn’t worth getting into an argument with Meg. I couldn’t stay any longer and would try to talk to Meg in a different way—money and a fancy house wasn’t everything.
I didn’t trust Nate and I didn’t like him invading my privacy. I was moving out tomorrow.