The Swear Jar (3 page)

He cringed inwardly.  He hoped
Meara wouldn’t ask about salary and benefits.  Librarians were never going to
be rich.  He wanted her to be a librarian for the love of it.  He didn’t dare
look at Anne.  She was grinning.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“What kind of director are you, Mr.
Phillips?  Are you supportive and willing to listen?  Does my opinion count? 
Are you willing to jump in when I need you?  What kind of budget is there for
books and media?  Is there a budget for hiring performers as well as programming
supplies?  May I rearrange and weed the collection?  May I redecorate?  May I
try new programs?”

He stole a look at Anne.  Her
raised eyebrows said ‘I told you!’  He looked back at Meara.  His first
impression of her was she was funny and attractive.  Now his second impression was
she was a passionate force to be reckoned with as a librarian.  He wondered if
that passion extended to her personal life.  He had to stop wandering too far
down that path.  He had to say something to her.

“You’re hired,” Duncan blurted out.

Crossing her arms, Meara stared at
him like he was crazy.  She wondered what she would be getting into if she
worked for him.  He was nice, but if he wasn’t a good director, she wouldn’t
give him another thought.  No matter how cute he looked in a suit.

He went on quickly.  “I’m
supportive, I do listen and your opinion does count.  I value different
perspectives to help run this library.  And if you need me, I’ll be there. 
There’s a nice budget for books, media, performers and craft supplies.  The
collection is yours to grow, weed and tend.  The same goes for new programs and
redecorating.”

Uncrossing her arms, Meara’s blue
eyes danced.  Her dimple appeared.  Duncan had to have her work for him.  He
wanted to get to know her.  He wanted to kiss that dimple.  He blinked.

“Mrs. Martin, what do you think? 
Would like to work here?”  He held his breath.

“Mr. Phillips, please call me
Meara.”

“Meara, will you make me the
happiest director on earth and join my staff?” he asked, lowering his voice to a
pleasantly low growl.

It was her turn to blink.  She had
butterflies in her stomach.  That voice made her want to giggle.  She wanted to
make him happy and not just as a director.  Blushing deep red, she was
surprised for thinking this.  A wicked look in her eyes made his smile
faltered.  He wondered what she was thinking.  They stared at each other.

Anne broke the awkward silence.  “She’ll
take it!  When do you want her to start?”

Meara and Duncan looked a little
dazed.  They turned to Anne.  Shyly, Meara looked down at the floor.  He
cleared his throat.

“I have to get the Board’s
approval.  The meeting’s tomorrow night.  It seems silly to start on a Friday. 
Could you start Monday?” he asked.

“She’ll be here, bright and early. 
Vacation’s over for you, Aunt Meara!”  Anne smiled triumphantly.

“Would you please give me your
phone number, Mrs. Martin?” he said as professionally as possible even though
he was terribly nervous.  “I’ll call you Friday morning with the Board’s
decision.”

“Of course.  Please call me Meara or
Miss Meara, as the children do.  Is there an application I need to fill out?”

“Mr. Phillips, you can call her
Thursday night.  Aunt Meara, I printed off an application and filled it out for
you.  Here you go, Mr. Phillips.” Anne waved the application in her aunt’s face
and handed it over to him.

“Anne, my Social Security number is
on there.  How did you get that?” asked Meara, amazed.

“Like it was hard!” Anne retorted.

“We need to talk about privacy,
young lady.  Why do I feel like I’m being railroaded?” Meara chided.

Anne couldn’t resist answering. 
“He TOLD you to stop by.  I got the stuff together.  You think we planned
this?  Are you crazy?  Mr. Phillips, maybe you shouldn’t hire her.”

He chuckled.  “I’ll take my
chances.  She’s the right one.  For the job I mean.”

Meara smiled.  “Thank you.  I look
forward to hearing from you, even if the Board doesn’t go for it.”

He took a step closer to her.  She
shifted uneasily on her feet.  They shook hands.  Their voices were soft.

“It was a pleasure seeing you
again, Miss Meara.”  His growl was back.

She couldn’t think straight. 
“Yes.  It was, Mr. Phillips.”

“Until Thursday.”

“Okay.  Have a good day.”

“You too.  If you’ll excuse me, I
have to prepare for the Board meeting,” he said.

He walked past the Circulation
Desk.  Lucy was shaking her head.  Tom gave him two thumbs up.  Duncan rolled
his eyes.  Tom and Lucy heard him letting out a sigh as he closed his office
door.

Chapter Three

“Anne is something else, isn’t
she?” asked Lucy.

“Meara’s not so bad herself.  It’s
getting kind of boring around here.  Do you think the Board will approve?” Tom
said.

“Duncan won’t have a problem. 
Meara is a firecracker.  If the Board doesn’t approve, they’ll have to worry
about Anne.  Poor Board!”  Lucy smiled.  “I wonder if this is right for
Duncan.  Meara is the first woman he’s shown interest in and he wants her to
work for him.  This could get messy.”

“It’s a small town.  She’s new and
a breath of fresh air!  What are you afraid of?  Do you think they’ll be knocking
boots by the end of the summer?  I’ll take that bet!” Tom said.

“That’s appalling, but it did cross
my mind.  It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch.  Duncan’s been alone
for a long time and Meara’s been a widow for five years.  Something’s going on
between them.”

“They’ll be together before the end
of the year.  You can say sometime next year.  Is it a bet?”

“Tom, go shelve some books!” chided
Lucy.

“Can’t.  Here come our patrons and
possibly a new co-worker.”

“Hello again!” Anne chirped.  “My
Aunt Meara might work here.”

Tom asked, “Is this true?”

Meara smiled.  “As long as Mr.
Phillips gets approval, I think so.”

Lucy said, “Congratulations, Mrs.
Martin!  Welcome to the staff.  I’m Lucy and this is Tom.”

Meara said, “Please call me Meara.”

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of
you too, Anne,” Tom said, winking at her.

“I’ll be here.  I want to volunteer
for the little kids’ programs.  It’s so much fun!” Anne said.

Lucy finished checking out their
books.  “Meara, don’t forget to bring a mug with you when you start.  Not that
we’re drinking many hot beverages in June.”

“Thanks!” Meara replied.  “I hope
I’ll be working here.  Fingers crossed.  Bye!”

Outside, Meara turned to Anne. 
“What was that all about, young lady?  My resume?  My Social Security number? 
I appreciate the help, but you crossed the line.  Why?”

“Because he likes you and you like
him.”

Meara tripped over her own feet and
dropped a book.  “Say what?”

“You like each other.  You’ll get
to know each other.”

Meara picked up the book.  “Anne, it’s
not that simple.”

They placed the books on the
backseat of Meara’s Jeep.  They settled into the front seats.  Anne fidgeted
while Meara pulled out of the parking lot.

“But you like him.”  Anne frowned.

“You’re trying to get the last
word, aren’t you?”

“No, I would never do that.”  Anne
smirked.

“Yes, you would.”

“Nope.”

Meara glared at Anne.  “Even if I
did like him, I’ll be working for him now.  Personal and professional don’t
mix.”

Anne remained blissfully silent on
the short drive home.  It gave Meara time to think.  She wondered if she liked
Duncan.  When he had tried to give her the quarter at the supermarket, it had
been the sweetest thing to happen to her in a long time.  It wasn’t hard to
notice he was a handsome man.  His wedding ring was a turn off, but she had
found herself thinking about him anyway.  She thought he was being polite or
flirting when he offered to look at her resume.  Now she knew he was a
widower.  She looked at her own wedding ring.  If it hadn’t been for her sister
Diana, her brother-in-law Ben, and Anne, Hank’s death would have killed her.

A few months ago, Ben had gotten a
job offer in Pin Oak Grove too good to pass up.  Diana, Ben and Anne moved to a
beautiful old Victorian with three acres.  The property included an inground
pool and a small ranch house on a flag lot.  While they lived in the same town,
Meara had gotten better.  Once they moved, she had retreated into herself. 
Diana and Ben asked her to move into the ranch house to help with the mortgage
and Anne.  She knew they didn’t need help, but she appreciated the fact they
wanted her.

After Hank died, she painstakingly
put her life back together.  She went through the motions of everyday life. 
She paid the bills, ate and slept.  She could manage, but she could only be so
strong on her own.  She hated not being able to control every detail of her
life.  She hadn’t been able to control Hank’s shocking heart attack.  One day
he was smiling and laughing, the next day she was rushing to the hospital to
find him gone.  There were all the right papers, insurance and a will, but no
personal instructions, no last goodbye.  No last I love you.

Meara parked on the street in front
of the Victorian.  She was tearing up.  Anne felt the change in Meara and
regretted interfering.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Meara,” Anne said,
her lower lip quivering.  “Please don’t get upset and think about Uncle Hank. 
I’m sorry I gave Mr. Phillips your resume.  When you looked at each other at
the supermarket, it reminded me of how happy you and Uncle Hank were.  I wanted
you to be happy again.”

Meara hugged Anne. “You didn’t do
anything wrong except hacking my computer and getting my Social Security
number.  I know you want me to be happy.  Sometimes with adults, it’s a little
complicated.  Maybe even a little more complicated for me.  I’m glad you made
me speak to Mr. Phillips.  I love hanging out with you, but I miss libraries. 
Do you think he likes me?”

Anne wiped her eyes.  “Yes, I do. 
Do you like him?”

Meara scowled.  “Out of the car and
get your books.”

They walked slightly uphill to the
Victorian.  The two-story house had a fantastic wraparound porch with a
two-seater swing.  The house was white with dark green trim and lots of windows
to let in sunlight.  Trees kept the house shady by day and breezy by night. 
There was plenty of thick green grass to keep Ben busy on weekends.  The long
paved driveway ran along the left side of the house, past the pool and back to
the ranch house where Meara lived.

“Do you want lunch by the pool
today?” asked Meara as Anne ran up the back porch stairs.

“Sounds good.  I’ll change into my
swimsuit and be right over to help.”

Meara walked past the pool.  She
loved swimming.  She could swim laps to her heart’s content.  The whole
property was an oasis for Meara.  The Victorian appealed to her sense of
romance while the ranch house was cozy and practical.  The outdoor space was
filled with secluded green spots.  She had even discovered a small stream at
the back of her ranch house.  She opened her front door and felt cool air conditioning. 
She turned to see Anne waving from her upstairs bedroom window.

Meara waved back.  She kicked off
her flip flops, hitting the back of the couch.  This comfortable couch was positioned
in front of a large fireplace.  The fireplace’s wooden mantel held a tall,
glass jug.  The jug held numerous coins and bills of different denominations. 
The house had an open floor plan so the living, dining and kitchen areas flowed
into each other.

Down the long hallway were two
spare bedrooms, a bathroom and Meara’s master suite.  She went to her bedroom
and changed into her swimsuit.  Anne bounded into the house.  Meara prepared
sandwiches while Anne made lemonade.  Once everything was ready, they walked
over to the pool.  While they were eating, Meara noticed Anne was deep in
thought.

“You’re awfully quiet Anne,” Meara
said.  “What are you thinking?  Or planning?”

“I’m not planning anything, I
promise,” Anne replied. “I want to ask you something, but I don’t want you to
get upset.”

“Ask me and I’ll try not to.”

“Why are you more complicated than
other adults?”

“I’m not sure.  If I liked Mr.
Phillips, I’d feel a little guilty because of your uncle.  We never talked
about dying.”

“Don’t you think Uncle Hank wants
you to be happy?”

“I guess.  I wish he could have
told me.  Not everyone gets that last goodbye.”

“Maybe Uncle Hank is waiting for
you to like someone.  Then he’ll send you a sign saying it is okay.”

“How did you get to be such a wise
relationship expert?” Meara smirked.

“By reading!” Anne gave her the raspberry
and jumped into the pool.

On Thursday morning, Anne woke up,
padded downstairs and sat at the kitchen table.  Her mother, Diana, was making
breakfast.  Diana was a younger, slightly taller, slimmer version of Meara. 
Like Meara, Diana smiled a great deal and loved her family very much.  She was
dressed for work in a tan silk blouse and brown slacks.  She worked in an
advertising firm in South Branchville.

“Ben, you better hurry up or your
toast will be cold!” Diana yelled up the stairs.

“I’ll be right down!” Ben yelled
back.

Anne loved her parents.  They were
a happy couple.  If they were ever mad at each other, they could never be mad
at each other for long.  Fighting in their house was limited to board game
night.  When Grandpa Jack died, her grandmother, Nana Kay, couldn’t take care
of the family.  Meara took on that responsibility, raising Diana and keeping
the family together.  When Hank and Ben came into the picture, Meara was the
accepted head of the family.  After Hank’s death, Meara began to let Diana and
Ben handle making family decisions.

Ben swept into the kitchen.  He was
taller than Diana and had a slim build.  He had bright blue eyes and thick
black hair.  His dark blue suit was disheveled and his hair was mussed.

“I’m running late.  Anne, stay out
of trouble and don’t give your aunt a hard time.  She’s nervous.  Love you
both.  Thank you, honey, for breakfast and lunch.  When should the library be
calling?”

Diana replied, “For a computer guy,
you’re disorganized.  I packed you an apple.  Wash it before you eat it!  I
don’t know when the library will call.  Have a good day, sweetheart!  I have to
go too, Anne.  I agree with your dad, go easy on Aunt Meara.  If they call,
they call.  If they don’t, they don’t.”

“Mr. Phillips will call,” said Anne.

“Why do you say that?” asked Diana.

“Because he likes Aunt Meara.”

“He’s only met her twice.”

“He likes her.”

“Anne, I’ll ask this as simply as
possible.  The library director likes Aunt Meara as a friend or as a possible
girlfriend?”

“He likes her as a possible
girlfriend.”

“How Aunt Meara feel?”

“I’m not sure.  I think she likes
him as a possible boyfriend, but wishes she knew how Uncle Hank would feel
about it.”

“We’ll talk more when I get home. 
Be nice to Aunt Meara.”

“Yes, Mom.”  Anne ran over to the
ranch house and knocked on the front door.

Meara answered.  “Good morning!”

Anne beamed.  “Aunt Meara, what are
we doing today?”

“This is going to be a long day,
isn’t it?” asked Meara dryly.

“Why don’t we look at your wardrobe
and see what you have to wear to work?”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” 
Meara raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing!  Are you going to wear a
dress on Monday?”

“No way.  You saw the Youth
Services Department.  I’m getting my hands dirty on day one.”

“You should look pretty on your first
day.”

“No more wardrobe discussion.  Why
don’t we go to lunch in town today and keep ourselves out of mischief?”

They spent the day avoiding
discussion of the library.  They had lunch at Lynn’s Café, a quiet spot in town
where the food was great.  The owner, Lynn, went the extra mile to make her
customers feel at home.  She thought Anne was spunky and Meara deserved a
medal.  She slipped Meara a giant chocolate chip cookie as a reward for her
patience.  When they arrived home in the late afternoon, Meara was glad to hand
Anne off to Diana.  Meara retreated to her house.  She was pacing when the
phone rang.

“Did he call yet?” Anne asked.

“No, Anne,” replied Meara calmly. 
“Did you think he would go into the meeting, get approval and run out to call
me?  He may not call until tomorrow.”

“He’ll call tonight.  I just know
it.”

“He won’t be able to get through if
you’re on the line.”

“You didn’t get call waiting? 
What’s wrong with you?  Goodbye!”

Meara heaved a sigh of relief.  She
was nervous enough without Anne calling every five minutes.  The butterflies in
her stomach anticipated hearing his voice again.  He had a deep, slightly
gravelly voice that sent shivers up her spine.  She shook her head to clear her
thoughts.  Maybe mixing personal and professional wasn’t such a good idea.