She ran the last few feet to the wide stairway and pattered up the center, as she always did, taking a direct shot to the tall door framed in its ostentatious plaster casing. She entered the building, closed the door with care to avoid even so much as a muffled snap, then paused on the mosaic floor of the vestibule. Silence engulfed her. Peace wove its way through her frame. She drew in a deep breath, and as she exhaled, her worries seemed to drift away. Ah, such a haven.
Today’s desk librarian, a middle-aged spinster named Miss Collins, looked up from behind the half-octagon-shaped desk that filled the floor space near the open, railed staircase leading to the second story. Her gaze met Addie’s, and she smiled, then beckoned with her fingers.
Addie crossed to the desk and rested her arms on its cool marble top. “Good afternoon.” She spoke in a whisper. Mother had taught her that one never desecrated the studious atmosphere of a library by speaking loudly.
“Good afternoon, Addie. I’m glad to see you.” Miss Collins also whispered, and her breath held the scent of peppermint. Daddy sucked Reed’s peppermint discs because he said they settled his stomach. Miss Collins must suffer frequent tummy upset, because Addie had never seen her without a white disc tucked in her cheek. She lifted a thick book from a built-in cubby and placed it upside down between Addie’s elbows. “Look what came in, fresh from the publisher.”
Addie turned the book over and gasped. “A new Christie novel!”
The librarian grinned. “Yes. The way you raved over Murder on the Orient Express and Death in the Clouds, I was certain you’d want to be the first to check out The A.B.C. Murders.” Then her bright expression faded. “Oh…You’re preparing for final examinations, aren’t you? You probably don’t have time to engage in reading for enjoyment.”
Addie swallowed. She hadn’t intended to divulge the news of her expulsion to anyone except the head librarian, Mrs. Carrie Hunt, but Miss Collins might take the book back if Addie didn’t admit the truth. She smoothed the glossy dustcover, relishing the fresh newness beneath her fingers. The book hadn’t even been cataloged yet or the dustcover would have been removed.
Desire to be the very first person to crack the pages of Mrs. Christie’s newest novel rose and spilled out. “I’ll have time. My studies are all complete.” Strange how one could speak the truth without sharing the entire truth. Strange, too, how the statement left her feeling a little sneaky and guilty.
“Good for you. I’ll get a card ready, and you can be the first to sign it.”
“Thank you.” She observed Miss Collins’s activities, trying not to fidget. The woman was very knowledgeable and adept at her job, but sometimes she reminded Addie of a sloth. “Is Mrs. Hunt in her office?”
“She should be.” Miss Collins meticulously dabbed glue onto the back of a yellow manila library envelope. “I didn’t see her come in, but she always returns from lunch promptly at half past twelve.” The tip of her tongue poked out the corner of her mouth as she pressed the envelope inside the back cover.
“I’ll go up and talk to her, then come for the book.”
“That sounds fine.”
Addie mounted the stairs on her tiptoes, unwilling for her shoes’ metal heel protectors to click on the marble treads. She entered her favorite room in the library, the reading room, and moved past tables, each lit by a hanging chandelier and set in a neat configuration around the rails that opened to the floor below. A half dozen patrons sat at various tables, but none even glanced up at Addie’s passage. All engrossed in their reading, it seemed. A smile trembled on her lips. Such a glorious gift authors gave to readers—an escape into another world. Writers enlightened and entertained and excited simply by stringing words together. Having discovered the joy books provided, she longed to offer a similar delight to others. And she would. Someday.
On the left side of the room, short hallways sprouted in opposite directions and led to smaller rooms. Addie chose the rear hallway, which took her to the library director’s office. A pair of raised-panel doors, nearly ten feet high, stood open in silent invitation, but Addie paused and tapped lightly on the doorjamb.
“Come in.”
She stepped over the threshold into the long, narrow office. Mrs. Hunt sat at her desk. The height of the ceiling dwarfed every piece of furniture in the room, giving the space a dollhouse-like appearance. The woman was busily writing in a journal of some sort, so Addie waited beside the door until Mrs. Hunt set the pen aside and looked up. Surprise registered on her face.
“Why, Addie, I didn’t realize you were on the schedule today.”
“I’m not. I n-needed to talk to you.” The stutter surprised her. Perhaps this conversation would be more difficult than she’d originally imagined.
A frown creased Mrs. Hunt’s forehead. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Her legs suddenly felt shaky. She wished she could sit, but the only other chair in the room was in the corner, which would put far too much distance between them. Addie forced her feet to carry her over the unstained maple floorboards. She stopped on the opposite side of the desk, sucked in a fortifying breath, and blurted, “My daddy lost his job. He couldn’t pay my tuition bill, so I can’t finish the semester. He and Mother moved into a boardinghouse, and there isn’t room for me there. Thus, I need to secure a job in Lexington. May I hire on here full time?”
Mrs. Hunt stared at her blankly for several seconds, eyeglasses glinting from the bulbs in the chandelier hanging above her desk. Then she abruptly rose, rounded the desk, and gripped Addie’s upper arms. “My dear, I wish I could say yes. You’ve been a very dependable worker. But my operating budget has been cut twice in the past three years. This economic depression—it affects so many things, you know.”
Yes, Addie knew. She offered a weak smile. “I understand.”
The library director released Addie and folded her arms over her chest. “I would happily write you a recommendation for any potential employers if that would be helpful.”
Given the woman’s fine reputation in town, her recommendation was worth a great deal. Addie nodded. “Thank you, ma’am, I would appreciate that very much.”
Mrs. Hunt started around the desk, her steps brisk. “Then I shall write it this afternoon and give it to you tomorrow at the end of your shift.” She stopped and aimed a mild frown in Addie’s direction. “You do intend to continue your part-time position here until the end of the month, as originally planned?”
“Yes, ma’am. I made a commitment, and Daddy says we should always honor our commitments.” Not to mention she needed the money.
A smile softened the woman’s expression. “You have a wise daddy who raised a fine, responsible daughter.” Mrs. Hunt settled in her chair and linked her hands on top of the open journal. She angled her head and fixed a solemn look on Addie. “I’ll be honest. Most young women, if faced with your situation, would wallow in self-pity or spew with anger. I’m proud of the way you’re approaching the problem. I’m sure your parents are proud of you, too.”