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  He shook his head. “Why don’t you just tell her the sight of Tofurky makes you ill?”

  I made a funny face. “I don’t want to upset her. Please, will you pick it up?”

  Sam laughed. “Sure. I’m not that fond of Tofurky either. Um, I could ask Caleb to come along. I understand he’s going to be alone for the holidays too.”

  My stomach did that weird thing again. “Uh. Sure. The more the merrier.”

  I wished I wasn’t quite so excited about seeing Caleb again.

  Mrs. Canard was right about me coming back to see her before the week was out. With my reduced work schedule, all I’d done was read the last few days. I’d already gone through the pile of books she’d given me.

  After stopping at Lulu’s to order a complete Thanksgiving dinner with all of the trimmings, and a short stay for Ms. Helen’s chili and cornbread lunch, I headed to the library.

  The temperature outside hung around forty, but inside the library it felt closer to thirty degrees. At almost four o’clock on a Wednesday the place was deserted. The whole town shuts down around six, so it wasn’t that unusual. Only the local restaurants and Piggly Wiggly stayed open until nine.

  As I made my way through the vestibule, I saw shadows that looked like people. Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I opened them again. The shadows were gone.

  Maybe I need new glasses. I wore reading glasses sometimes, but that was only after a long day of viewing the tiny type on contracts.

  I heard someone shelving books a few rows back and found Mrs. Canard on a short stepladder in the biography and nonfiction section. Today she wore a soft baby blue sweater over navy pants.

  “Mrs. Canard?” I whispered.

  Startled, she almost toppled off the ladder. Grabbing the wooden shelf, she righted herself. “Dear me. I didn’t hear you come in, Kira.” She peered at me over her spectacles. “You have some pink in your cheeks and look much better than the other day.”

  I reached up to help her down the ladder. “I am better. Why don’t you let me shelve those for you?” Before she could protest, as I knew she would, I added, “I could really use a cup of tea. It’s kind of chilly in here.”

  She smiled at me, knowing full well what I was up to. “Yes, I have some new cinnamon spice tea, which is delightful.” Her hand in mine, I helped guide her down. “I’ll put the kettle on, and then we can have a nice long chat.”

  I shelved the remaining biographies, except for one on P. L. Travers that I wanted to check out for myself. I’d always loved Mary Poppins and was curious about the woman behind the wonderful books. I’d heard she was very eccentric, and those kinds of people always fascinate me.

  By the time I finished I noticed Mrs. Canard had set the small break room table with a colorful china teapot and cups. Next to it was a plate of chocolate chip cookies, my favorite. I smiled and made my way through the doorway, but the librarian wasn’t in there. “Mrs. Canard?”

  “She ran upstairs for something, but she’ll be right back,” a man said from behind me. Swirling in a flurry, I searched for the owner of the voice. I made my way down the rows in the back of the library, but didn’t see anyone. I walked quickly to the front. Empty. I stood by the front desk with my hands on my hips. A chill ran down my spine.

  Had I really heard something? Or was my subconscious talking to me? Yes, your subconscious is a deep male voice. That makes a lot of sense.

  Since the accident, I’d been hearing things and seeing shadows. Maybe it was the medication. Or you’re going crazy. There was always that.

  “Kira?” I heard Mrs. Canard calling for me.

  “Be right there,” I said with fake cheerfulness.

  I made my way back to the tiny break room, where the librarian poured tea. “Did you hear someone when you came down?” I sat at the small table, across from her. An Irish lace tablecloth with delicate pink and white roses adorned it.

  The room was a small box with a sink, cabinets, and counters along all the walls.

  She smiled. “No, dear. Would you like some sugar? If I remember right, always two lumps.”

  It’d been years since I’d used real sugar in my tea. I usually used one of the chemical substitutes to save the calories. “Yes, thank you.”

  “So what does the handsome Dr. Sam say about your health? I understand he visited you yesterday.” The implication in her voice was that we might be dating.

  I laughed. “He is a very good friend and nothing else, and he says a few more weeks and I’ll be good to go.” I gave her a wink. “I need to get back to Atlanta, so I’m not sure I’ll be able to take his advice. How did you know he’d been to see me?”

  She put a cookie on a plate and handed it to me. “It’s a small town, Kira, I know everything. So you are determined to go back to being a lawyer?”

  What an odd question. I frowned. “Of course. I mean, what else would I do? I would have gone right back to work after—um, after I got sick, but the doctors wouldn’t let me,” I covered. I’d almost said, “after the accident,” which is stupid because it wasn’t an accident at all. It was a tragedy. “I can’t really imagine doing anything else.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad, dear. I guess I had hopes that someday you would come and take over the library for me.” She patted my hand. “A silly old woman’s wishful thinking.”

  I squeezed her fingers. “If I weren’t a lawyer, I probably would be a librarian. You know how much I love doing research—almost as much as I adore books. I’m so glad you set me straight the other day and made me read something that didn’t have to do with work. I’d forgotten the sheer joy that comes from books.

  “And there is absolutely nothing old or silly about you.” Though I had noticed that she seemed a bit more fragile this trip. I mean, she looked great for an eighty-year-old woman, but her skin appeared thinner and she stooped a little more than I’d remembered. Yet she still hopped around the library like a rabbit on speed. “How have you been feeling?”

  She frowned for just a moment and her eyes looked misty.

  I thought she might cry for a minute, and I worried maybe she was seriously ill. “Mrs. Canard?”

  She sighed. “Oh, fiddle-faddle. I didn’t ask you to tea to talk about my health. That’s what old people do. I want to hear about your life in Atlanta.”

  I started to say something, but stopped when I saw the look in her eyes. She was begging me to leave the subject alone. Next to my parents, I loved this woman more than anyone I’d ever known. She truly was my savior as a child. She had introduced me to the magical world of books, where I could lose myself in a new place every day. I had to find out what was wrong with her, but now was not the time.

  “I love Atlanta and my job keeps me very busy.” I told her about my friend Justin and my condo in one of the city’s high-rises. But there wasn’t much more to tell. My entire life had become about work. I had acquaintances at the office, but Justin was my only real friend there.

  “I wanted to thank you for the books you recommended,” I said as we finished our tea. I took the cups and saucers to the sink.

  “I’ll take care of those later. Don’t worry about them.” She tried to brush me out the door.

  “No, you made my favorite cookies. The least I can do is clean up. Maybe you can find some books to get me through the holiday at my parents’. I’m going to need massive distractions to stay sane. My dad has been pestering me to take yoga classes and it seems like every five minutes Mom shoves another cup of some kind of herbal tea down me.”

  She laughed. “It’s time you accepted those people for who they are, Kira.” She touched my shoulder. “They love you very much and they are good souls who mean well.”

  I nodded. “I know. I’m trying to do that this trip and I am beginning to see them through different eyes. I never realized how talented they were. Mom’s business is booming and Dad has become quite the artist.”

  She sighed. “I think it sometimes takes us many years to truly appreciate our parents.”
Then she was off, flitting around the library, gathering another pile of books for me.

  I left the clean dishes and teapot on the drain board and wiped my hands on a tea towel. Even the break room with its gray walls and small wooden cabinets seemed special. I loved this library and I’d never felt more comfortable anywhere else. Not even in my apartment in Atlanta, which I’d decorated to suit me exactly.

  I sighed. When did I become so melancholy?

  At the checkout desk she had two piles of books ready for me. “I’ve put the new Jasper Fforde and Jim Butcher in for you. As well as that P. L. Travers biography.” She pushed the stack of more than twenty books toward me. “There are also some of the classics you used to love.” Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre and Jane Austen’s Emma topped the pile. Back in the day Brontë had been very critical of Austen’s work, but I loved them both.

  Something occurred to me. “Are you going to Dallas to see your daughter for Thanksgiving?” I put the books in a large grocery bag she handed me to transport them to the car.

  “No. The kids are in Vancouver at my son-in-law’s parents’.”

  “Would you mind coming out to Mom and Dad’s? We’d love to have you. Dr. Sam will be there and maybe a few others. Mom will cook her idea of Thanksgiving, but I’ve also ordered a complete dinner from Lulu’s.”

  “That’s very sweet of you. I’ll certainly think about it, and if I do come, I’ll bring some extra pies.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to bring anything but your lovely self.” I reached across the desk and hugged her. “But I do hope you’ll come.”

  On the way home I heard a strange ringing and realized it was my BlackBerry. It had been so long since anyone had called, I’d forgotten about it.

  I pushed the speaker button on the Lexus. “Hello?”

  “Is it there yet?” Justin sounded harried on the other end of the line.

  “Is what here yet? What are you talking about?”

  “The FedEx package. I just found out about ten minutes ago that the Official Asshole—you know, your boss—sent you a package, but it didn’t come through me. I want to know what’s in it,” he demanded.

  “Well, I’m in my car at the moment, but I’m pulling in the drive right now. I’ll call you back when I get inside.”

  He sighed. “I don’t think my heart can take it.”

  “Justin, what’s going on? Why are you so upset?” He could be a bit of a drama queen, but this time he was tied in knots. “Take a deep breath and just tell me.”

  “You know how I get bad vibes about things…Well, that they didn’t have me send the package to you makes me think there’s something in there they didn’t want me to see.”

  “Did you ever stop to think that it’s probably just some confidentiality agreements for one of the contracts I’m working on? Stop being a goofy brat. The boss probably just needs me to look over something and had his assistant send it out.”

  There was silence on the other end.

  “Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Now he was making me nervous.

  “I don’t know. Just promise me you’ll call as soon as you get the package,” he pleaded.

  “Okay, okay. I promise. But I bet a sushi dinner it’s nothing but contracts. I’ll talk to you in a bit.” I pushed the button to turn off the phone and opened the car door.

  As soon as I opened the door to my room, I saw the FedEx envelope on the bed, a very thin one. I dumped the books on the small bedside table and picked it up. It couldn’t have been more than a page or two. For a second I was worried, and then I laughed. Justin was playing a practical joke. He was probably just messing with me.

  I rolled my eyes and ripped open the package.

  Two pieces of paper floated out to the bed.

  The first was a letter with the header for Zeb Corporate and it said:

  Dear Ms. Smythe,

  We appreciate your many contributions to our organization. You are a sterling employee and your efforts have been duly noted.

  Unfortunately, we regret to inform you that we must cut our department budgets by thirty-five percent. Beginning immediately, your employment here has been terminated. You will receive full medical coverage for as long as necessary as part of a generous severance package.

  We wish you well in your future endeavors.

  Martin Landover

  Vice President, Corporate Affairs

  The second piece of paper was a detailed outline of my severance package. It was a good one, excellent by most standards, but I still felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach.

  Sucker punched.

  Confused, I sat on the bed. He couldn’t fire me while I was on medical leave; it was against the law.

  I should be furious. I’d just read a letter telling me they didn’t give a crap that I’d dedicated my life to that job, but…somehow, I didn’t care.

  That’s not true. I did care. I was angry, but also relieved for some reason.

  The cell phone rang again. “What the hell is going on? They’re moving me to a new department,” Justin yelled.

  There was no getting around the truth. I took a deep breath. “I’ve been sacked.”

  “What?” He screamed so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

  “You heard me.” I told him about the budget cuts.

  “That’s ridiculous, you made those bozos millions of dollars the last few years.”

  My hands were shaking. “Evidently it wasn’t enough.”

  “You know why this is happening, and you know you can fight it,” Justin urged. “They can’t blame you for what happened to Melinda.”

  Oh, they can. I do. “Yes, but I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m done with that.” After the last few months I no longer had it in me.

  It had taken me a few days here in Sweet to realize why I’d really come home. I, the ruthless Ice Princess, had been emotionally and physically devastated. Not just by Melinda’s death, but by the events that had led up to it. I’d given up on everything, including myself.

  That was about to change. I wouldn’t fight the layoff, but I would do something about my life.

  “It’s time for me to move on.” I stood and began pacing. “I need you to do me some favors. Do you still have the key to my condo?”

  “Yes. And I’m not working at this place without you.”

  “Justin, I appreciate the loyalty, but you know how much you need that job.” He was still paying off his college loans. “When you get off work, go to my condo and e-mail me a copy of my résumé from my desktop. Then call Cynthia Jordan, that headhunter who has been after me. Give her my number and tell her to call if she’s interested. I’m going to get a new job,” I said determinedly. “And as soon as I’m settled I’m bringing you on at twice your current salary. How does that sound?”

  “Like the Kira Smythe I know. I’m with you all the way, girlfriend.” I imagined his hand swinging back and forth in a sassy snap. “You haven’t been yourself lately, and I, for one, am glad you are back.”

  I wasn’t sure about being back, but the letter had been a good reality slap.

  We hung up and I sat back on the bed.

  It’s a temporary detour. I can handle it. I’m Kira Smythe. I can do anything.

  * * *

  Five Bad Things That Are Worse Than Losing a Job

  Dying

  Going crazy

  Losing a loved one

  Being bedridden with some horrible disease

  Being betrayed by someone you love

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  ’Tis misfortune that awakens ingenuity, or fortitude, or endurance, in hearts where these qualities had never come to life but for the circumstance which gave them being.

  THE HISTORY OF HENRY ESMOND

  By Thackeray, William Makepeace, 1811–1863

  Call #: F-MAK

  Description: 415 p.; 19cm

  “Ms. Smythe, so happy to hear from you.” I’d called Cynthia Jorda
n after she’d told Justin to have me contact her immediately.

  “Thank you for taking my call. I realize it’s the day before Thanksgiving.” It hadn’t occurred to me that she might be out of the office. “Are you on vacation?”

  “I’m going through security as we speak on my way to Belize. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be here for at least another hour. Listen, Justin tells me you’re ready to move on from Zeb bore, excuse me, Zeb Corp. Does it have anything to do with the jumper?”

  I should have expected the question, but it startled me. The news reports had said I was on the roof with the police when Melinda jumped. Of course, I had no memory of it. No, that’s not exactly true. I have a vision in my head of her on the ledge, but that’s it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to remember what happened. “Let’s just say I’m ready to move on.”

  She clucked her tongue. “Of course. I know Bachman, Ride, and Yoren is looking for a new contract lawyer. And Telrine wants someone to lead up their legal affairs office. Both would be perfect for you. I’ll call them to set up appointments for next week and get back to you with the details.”

  “Okay.” I hadn’t expected things to move quite so fast, but in a way it was good. I didn’t want to sit around twiddling my thumbs for the next few months searching for a job.

  We hung up and I downloaded my résumé onto my mom’s office computer. Justin had e-mailed it and I always kept it up to date. It’s something ingrained in me from my days at Harvard. “Always be prepared for all contingencies,” my professors would say.

  I filled out the form Cynthia had sent from her BlackBerry, and attached it and my résumé to an e-mail back to her.

  My mother came in just as I was finishing up. “How are you feeling, honey?”

  I smiled. “Good.” Then I noticed the black cloth suitcase next to her. “Are you going somewhere?”