The Book of Eleanor (22 page)

To my surprise, Grey broke free from my arms and raced to Mary. I gasped in horror and moved to catch her, only to have her shirt brush my fingertips as she moved away.

“Grey, don’t leave me!” I cried hoarsely, stumbling after her.

Grey stopped at the capsule of light that surrounded Mary. They gazed at one another. I came up behind Grey, sobs building in my throat. If Grey chose to leave with Mary, my life would be over.

Grey lifted both hands and gently pressed them to the shimmering capsule. Mary smiled, the pinpoints of light moving and rearranging themselves.

I extended a hand, but drew it back, tears cascading down my cheeks. This was a decision Grey had to make alone.

Mary lifted both her glowing hands and pressed them to Grey’s. I saw a watery membrane of light still separated their hands, which gave me faint hope.

They smiled at one another for a timeless instant. I saw something resolve between them. As one, Mary and Grey turned and looked at me.

Suddenly self-conscious, I swiped at my face and tried a lame smile. I realized suddenly that the light was dimming in subtle stages.

Mary stepped back, lowering her arms. She looked around the Bookmark. I saw approval register in her light-framed face. Her form flickered suddenly, and without a backward glance, she turned and stepped through an invisible curtain, pulling the capsule of light behind her.

Grey and I stood in the center of the darkened Bookmark. I was afraid to look at her, afraid I would see rejection, regret, things I did not want to see.

Instead, I looked out the front windows at the cloud swells lit by fragments of lightning. Grey’s hand snaked into mine. I breathed again when she lifted my hand to her lips. I still couldn’t look at her, afraid of losing complete control of my emotions. Grey seemed to sense my fragility. Side by side, we watched the roiling night together.

I knew how Angie must feel, having seen me and Mary together. I wanted so badly to explain to her how important an act of closure that had been, how I had needed it to move on to my new life with her. Words failed me, however. My feelings ran too deep to verbalize.

Instead, I took her hand. After some time regaining our composure, I led her from the Bookmark and back into the apartment. Chaos met my gaze. I shut the door firmly behind us. I turned the lock when I saw Oscar Marie perched safely on the dining table.

Angie moved to tidy up, but I shook my head, letting her know it could wait.

She followed me down the hall to the bedroom.

We silently prepared for bed. Lying next to one another, we still didn’t talk, just stared at the ceiling as light from distant lightning played across it.

Angie was the first to break the silence.

“I almost lost you,” she said simply.

I felt the hidden power of those words. “Never,” I said, pulling her into my arms. I nestled her weight atop me and looked up into her sapphire gaze. “I’m yours, Angie. In this world and the next. Promise me you will remember that.”

She nodded. Salty tears dropped from her eyes to moisten my cheeks. I kissed her, and was once again transported to that warm, secure place of loving Angie.

Her hands against my head felt so right. She rained tender kisses along my face and neck. We moved together, our bodies straining for loving touches. As she unbuttoned my shirt and her kisses moved lower, I realized with joy that we were indeed completely alone together. At last.

I stared at the ruins of my school and felt pretty close to tears. Grey took my hand and silently held it, offering comfort. I sure had been on quite the emotional roller coaster of late.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” I said finally. “They were going to tear it down anyway. Now the fight is over and I have to say, I feel some sense of relief.”

“No, you don’t,” she replied, turning around so she could stare at the bay instead of the broken building. “You’re worried about the kids.”

I released her hand and walked to the front door. It gaped widely, the lock broken. Torrential rain and wind had finally done in the old building, shredding the roof like the talons of a giant eagle. Most of the asphalt roofing tiles lay broken on the swollen wooden floorboards.

I stepped inside carefully, trying to see what I could salvage. The walls of the main room were rain soaked and drooping. I was glad I had taken down all the artwork and the teaching aids before the storm. At least we had saved those. I saw the destroyed bookcase and was equally glad the books and workbooks had been tucked safely away.

“Wow, this is pretty bad,” Grey said. “We really need to get the stuff and go, sweetheart. I’m worried about this floor. It took a lot of rain.”

I sighed and turned to her. “Yeah, you’re right. There isn’t much left in here anyway.”

We backtracked and entered my office. A beam had fallen across my old desk and the entire office was soaked. Working together, we were able to free the plastic bins and the locked safe. On the way out, I gently disengaged the sign David had made for me. Miraculously, it was intact with water damage on one corner only.

We loaded the Jeep. Just as I started the engine, I spied a metal square resting diagonally across the stone foundation. I hopped out of the Jeep. Lifting it, I saw that it was the Petey Wilson plaque that had hung next to the doorway. I tapped it with my knuckles, profound grief washing through me.

I stood and took a deep breath, pushing the grief away. In life, there were always beginnings and endings, and this was just one more. We’d find a new place and everything would be just fine once again. I believed that.

Handing the plaque to Grey for safekeeping, I swung myself into the Jeep and we headed home.

The strip was coming along nicely.

I got a new cookbook
, Sassy Suzy told her co-worker Rita.

Oh, yeah
? Rita replied.
Made anything good?

Nope, I think I’m gonna take it back
.

Really? Are the recipes too hard?

No, just impossible. Each one tells me to start with a clean dish.

***

I leaned back and stretched as I listened intently. It was way too quiet in the front. I lifted my coffee cup and stood. I needed a refill anyway.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, so I fished it out and saw a text from Couscous. It was time. Excitement raced through me as I pressed a speed dial number and got the padre, who was waiting with the bus outside.

We talked briefly. I stepped into the Bookmark where I was inundated with the delicious scents of flavored coffee and fresh pastry. Half a dozen chairs were filled. I waved to a few regulars who lifted their heads as I made my way across the room.

The reading room had been growing in popularity during the past year, and was strangely well liked by both the local retirees as well as the college students from UTB.

I had been a little taken aback. As expected, the spring breakers from last year hadn’t been interested in the books, but the coffee and pastries had proven a surprising draw. The Winter Texans had fallen in love with the place as a social gathering spot. Their word of mouth brought in a daily rise in customers this past October. Now here it was, spring again, and I’d had to put in a real cash register and hire two employees, one full-time and one part-time.

My part-time employee, Maria, motioned me over. I paused by the coffee bar.

I studied her cautiously smiling face and was again amazed by her transformation since graduating from the SPICEY last fall. She still wore her hair long and swept to the side to hide her scarred face, but now she smiled most of the time and had become something of an expert on rare books. She also kept the Bookmark’s inventory squeaky clean.

“Hey,
chica
, you doing okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “I am. How’s the strip coming?” I made a dismissive gesture and she laughed. “Listen, Forrest took home
San Francisco Blues
. I told him it was okay,” she said.

“Oh, sure, that’s fine. He always returns them.” I cocked my head to one side, trying to remember the book.

“It’s Kerouac,” she said, grinning.

“I sure am glad you know what you’re talking about,” I said. “Did you enter it in the borrowed list on the machine?”

“I did.”

I leaned close and spoke softly. “It’s time. We’ll be back in just a few hours. You call me if you need anything.” I glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “Jackson will be here in, oh, about half an hour.”

Maria covered her mouth to stem an excited squeal. “Oh, my gosh, this is so cool,” she sighed. “Take some pictures so I can see?”

“Will do, sweetie.”

I approached the closed double doors to the eastern half of the Bookmark and paused before opening them. Hearing about Jack Kerouac made me think about Eleanor. I almost missed her presence, and might have liked having her around if she hadn’t tried to take out her anger and frustration on Angie and me. I sighed and pushed open both doors.

Sound inundated me. I quickly closed the doors. At first, I didn’t see Angie, but her tousled blond hair popped up behind one of the easy chairs. She saw me and grinned.

“Angie? What are you doing?” I asked.

“Sally won’t come out.”

I frowned. “Come out? Come out from where?”

“She’s behind the chair,” Tommy said, appearing next to me.

I turned back to Angie. “Um, rough day teaching, Ange?”

“Don’t you give me ’tude,” she said, rising to her feet. “Everything was fine until this one,” she indicated Tommy, “decided that Sally’s letters weren’t written the right way.”

I turned to the teen and gave him the stink eye. “Tommy, maybe you should be the one getting Sal out…with an apology.”

Tommy sighed dramatically, as though everyone in the world had it in for him today. He went over to the chair and loudly apologized. He looked at me a moment later. “It ain’t working,” he informed me.

“
Isn’t
working,” Angie and Emma Rachel said in unison.

I looked at both of them and had to laugh. I walked over to the chair and crouched until I could see a pouting, tearful Sally huddled behind it. “Hey, Sally, wanna go for a ride?”

She peered up at me. I saw excitement stir in her eyes. “Where?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise,” I whispered.

“Can Piggy go?” she asked, holding out the stuffed bedraggled Muppet character that had become her constant companion since the school had been destroyed in the storm.

I nodded very seriously. “Oh, yes, I should think so.” I helped her from behind the chair to scattered applause from Tommy and the other students.

“Okay, field trip time, everyone!” I announced, moving to the table and neatening up workbooks and other the lesson supplies. I met Angie’s concerned gaze.

“Beach trip?” she asked in a low voice. “We have a test Friday.”

I cupped her chin in my hand and shook it gently. “It’ll be okay,” I assured her. “Trust me.”

A knock sounded on the outside door. Emma Rachel rushed to unbolt it and let in Father Sephria. Angie looked from the padre back to me, and I could see her mind working, trying to figure out my game. Shrugging, she obviously decided to play along and began readying Delicia’s wheelchair for the trip.

Following Angie’s example, Emma Rachel began working on Connie’s wheelchair, even as she signed to Carter and Emilio so they would understand what was happening.

I walked over to Frederick’s bed and found him sleeping. Gabby looked up at me from the magazine she was reading.

“We’ll bring back photos from the trip,” I told her. “I hope he won’t feel left out if he wakes up while we’re gone.”

“I doubt he’ll wake,” she said in her softly accented English. “He was up most of the night. Couldn’t settle down.”

I nodded. “We won’t be gone too long. I think he’ll be pleased when he finds out where we went.”

It was really unusual for Grey to interrupt classes, so I was mighty curious what she had up her sleeve. If it had been closer to mealtime, I would have expected a surprise meal out. She’d done that before, but this was early afternoon. I admit I was pretty well bewildered. Yet I trusted her and went along eagerly.

As if I wouldn’t do anything for Grey Graham. After seeing the collapsed roof on the SPICEY building after the storm last year, she had moved us right into the Bookmark without blinking an eye. She dealt with the noise, the aggravation, the bus taking over her alley parking space, and the reduction of her business footage without a cross word. She had definitely taken the SPICEY under her wing. For that alone, I would be eternally grateful.

To my surprise, the bus turned right instead of left toward the island. I figured it had to be a shopping excursion, or we were going out for an ice cream treat. As if confirming my suspicions, in just a few short minutes we pulled into the parking lot of the local Dairy Queen. I started to raise a cheer, but to my surprise, the padre continued on through the parking lot and into the lot next to it.

Then I saw the signs, and sudden hot tears blurred my vision. The long, rigid signs above both front and side doors, artfully designed in bright primary colors, proclaimed
The South Padre Island Center for Extraordinary Youth
.

I rose and moved forward while the bus pulled to a stop in front of the double doors at the side entrance. The padre chuckled as he swung open the bus door. I practically fell down the steps and out of the bus.

Looking like ants abandoning a waterlogged anthill, Couscous’s family poured through the doors. I also saw Sanchez, who came up and gave me a big hug. Cathy was there with Stephanie, and I saw Melissa, who waved and gestured with an uncharacteristic thumbs-up sign. Bringing up the rear of the group came big, old, lumbering Couscous and my dear Mama, both beaming as they shared in my joy.

“How...but how?” was the extent of my brilliance as I was surrounded by all the people I cared so much about.