The Swear Jar (9 page)

Chapter Ten

Before Meara realized it, the
Summer Reading Club was over.  The program had gone well, despite the late
start.  Once the word got out there were fun things to do at the library, the
kids came.  Meara and Sherrie had to laugh when parents asked about the start
date for September programs.  There was no time to enjoy their success.  Meara
liked Sherrie very much.  Sherrie was down-to-earth and hard-working.  She was
also incredibly talented and very organized.  Meara wanted Duncan to make
Sherrie her assistant permanently.

Meara tried to liven up the Youth
Services Room.  They had rearranged and decorated the room, but it still looked
dreary.  The place needed a good painting.  The tan walls were boring.  Any new
paint, any new color, would be more appealing than it was now.  She needed to
ask Duncan if she could paint.  He was the most supportive director she had
ever known.  He was also the most attractive director she had ever known.  She
blushed when she thought about the little things he had done for her since she had
arrived.

Meara knocked on Duncan’s office door. 
He smiled.  She always melted when he smiled.  She shyly smiled back.  He moved
towards her until he stood next to her.  Having him so close made her nervous,
sending the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly.

“Good morning, Miss Meara,” said
Duncan softly.  “Are you still recuperating from Summer Reading?”

“Good morning, Mr. Phillips.  Yes. 
We had lots of fun, but I’m glad it’s over.  We’re already thinking of next
year.”

“Already?  I can tell you everyone
thinks this summer was a success.”

While she appreciated his efforts
to praise her, Meara didn’t want to discuss Summer Reading now.  Painting the
room needed to happen before the new programs started in September.  She
refocused Duncan quickly.

“I’m sure all the Youth Services
people will be abuzz about Summer Reading at the September meeting.  I’m told
the meeting will be at the South Branchville Library,” Meara grimaced.

“At the last directors’ meeting, I
asked to move the meeting here.  It’s only fair the Chairperson be on her home
turf.  Would that appeal to you, Madame Chairperson?”

“Thank you, Mr. Phillips.  That’s
fantastic!” said Meara, spontaneously throwing her arms around his waist,
hugging him.

He hugged her back, holding her
tight.  They were both pleasantly surprised.  Her head rested on his shoulder. 
They held still, not sure how to part and not wanting to part.  They gazed at
each other.  He wanted to kiss her dimple and she wanted to kiss his chin
cleft.

She whispered, “Mr. Phillips, I
came to ask you something.  I’ve been looking at the Youth Services Room.  I
think it’s time to make some changes.”

“What kind of changes are you
thinking about?” he asked, curious and nervous as he gently released her from
his embrace.

“The room needs a new coat of
paint.”  She inhaled deeply, trying to clear her head.

“Let’s see what we can do.  What
kind of painting?  Are you willing to paint or get volunteers to help you?”

“A new coat of paint, one color,
would be good.  I’d be willing to paint and I could get some reliable
volunteers.  If it started on a Friday night, it could be done in a weekend.
Especially with the library closed on weekends for the summer.”

“What color were you thinking of?”
he asked.

“I’m not sure.  Do you have any
suggestions?” replied Meara.

“I’ll go to the hardware store
today and pick up paint chips.  We can look at them together.  How does that
sound?”

“That sounds wonderful,” said Meara
beaming.  “I look forward to it.”

She had a big grin on her face as
she passed the Circulation Desk.  She stopped in front of Tom, placing her
hands on her hips.  She had a plan.

Tom asked, “Did you eat a canary? 
What’s up?”

“Tom, is there any way I could get
you to stay late on Friday and paint the Youth Services Room?” asked Meara.

“That doesn’t sound like much of a
date,” chuckled Tom.  “Are you painting the room?”

“Sorry, Tom.  It’s not meant to be
a date,” Meara said.  “And yes, I’m going to paint the room.  Hopefully this
Friday.”

“Do you need help?  I can rope my husband
into coming in for a while,” said Lucy.  “Just say the word.”

“That would be fantastic!  Mr.
Phillips is picking up paint chips.  Once we have paint colors figured out, I’m
going for it.  I can only promise pizza, Tom.  Is that enough of a bribe?” asked
Meara.

“Count me in!  The wife’s going to
her sister’s, so I need to stay out of trouble,” said Tom.

Later that day, Duncan knocked on
Meara’s door.  She looked up from piles of summer craft supplies and program
papers.  Duncan fanned the paint chips out like a bouquet of flowers.  She
smiled brightly and clapped her hands.

She squealed.  “Fantastic colors!”

“Let’s tape some to the walls.  We
can live with them for a few days and then decide,” said Duncan.

“I’d like to start this Friday. 
I’ve spoken to a few friends and they’re willing to help.  If we can get the
paint, brushes, and drop cloths, we’d be all set.”

“Friday?  Are you sure?”  He was
surprised.

“I don’t want to wait too long.”

“Would you like my help?  Who else
is volunteering?”  He was eager to spend time with her.

“I’d love your help.  Lucy, her
husband Joe, Sherrie, her husband Dave and Tom are coming.  If we get the bulk
of it done on Friday, I can come on Saturday and finish what’s left.”

“Then we better decide now.  Shall
we take a look?”

“What color do you like?”

Duncan spread the paint chips on
the table.  He had chosen sedate colors, leaning towards blue and green
shades.  He wasn’t sure what color she wanted.  Telling the truth was the best
way to go.

“I like the greens.  The town is
named after an oak tree and the greens go with the existing décor.  I don’t
know what shade is best.  What do you think?” he asked.

“I agree.  The blues are calming. 
The greens are peaceful, welcoming colors like walking through the forest.  I
would be content with green.”  She got lost in his eyes for a moment.  “Tying
in with the town’s history and nature is a wonderful idea.  This pistachio
green would look great on the walls with cream paint for the window trim and
moulding.  What do you think?”

“I think we have our colors.  I’ll
go tomorrow for the paint and supplies.  If the walls are all painted on
Friday, you and I can finish up on Saturday.”

“You and I on Saturday?”  She
swayed nervously.  “That would be nice.”

“It’s a date,” he grinned, thrilled
to catch her off guard.  “I’m curious.  How did you get the others to
volunteer?”

“I bribed them.  Pizza sealed the
deal with Tom.  The others just wanted to have some fun.”

He chuckled.  “That sounds like
Tom.  You don’t have to bribe me.  I’ll be there for you.”

“I know you will, Mr. Phillips. 
Thank you.”  She went in search of Sherrie.

He wasn’t surprised she had
organized the staff to paint the room.  The staff rallied around her because
she was a natural leader.  She was flustered by his suggestion to finish off
the painting with him on Saturday.  He had lightheartedly called it a date, but
that’s what he wanted it to be.  Since the trip to Maple Tree Farm, Sir Duncan
had not made an official appearance.  It was time for Sir Duncan to polish up
his armor and woo Lady Meara once more.

Meara’s heart raced.  He was
suggesting they meet alone.  She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. 
Her face blazed red, remembering she had hugged him and he had returned her
embrace.  She wondered what it would be like to make love with him.  She shook
her head clear.  She was being foolish, she needed to concentrate.

She found Sherrie and explained the
plan.  Over the next few days, they cleared the walls of old posters, craft
projects and books.  Once this was done, Meara and Sherrie covered the trim and
moulding with painter’s tape.  By Friday afternoon, the room was ready for its
transformation.

The library closed at five
o’clock.  Lucy, Joe, Sherrie, Dave, Tom and Duncan all reported to Meara.  They
stood expectantly, waiting for her to tell them what to do.  They looked
excited to be in the library after hours, even if it was for painting.  Meara
looked at her friends and smiled.

“Thank you everyone for being
here.  I appreciate your help.  And thank you, Mr. Phillips, for agreeing to
this crazy project.  I have a confession to make.  I’ve never done much
painting, so I’m not sure how we should do it.  Any suggestions?”

“It doesn’t have to be perfect. 
Tell us what we should do and we’ll do it.  We can always touch up later,” said
Sherrie.  “None of us are paint experts anyway.”

“We should work on the biggest wall
first.  I need a person up the ladder, people to use the rollers, and people to
use the paintbrushes.  I also need someone to be in charge of giving out paint
and refilling people’s trays.  Who wants to do what?”

“I thought she said she didn’t know
what she was doing?” asked Tom.  “She’s good at bossing people around.”

“Tom!  You can be such a doofus
sometimes,” said Lucy.  “Meara’s got it all figured out, people, so let’s go.”

“Like knows like,” Tom muttered,
but everyone heard him.

The group erupted in laughter. 
They were about to start painting when Meara threw up her hands.  Everyone
froze.

“Wait!  I promised pizza.  I don’t
want anyone working on an empty stomach.  Do you want me to call?” asked Meara.

Sherrie said, “I’m not hungry.  I’d
rather paint first.  If this doesn’t take too long, we can go out for pizza.”

“Is everyone sure?”  Meara asked. 
“Then let’s get to it.”

Duncan stood next to Meara, both of
them using rollers.  She strained to reach the top of the wall.  He ran his
roller above her head.  The first time he did this, she looked at him
quizzically.  He smiled.  The second time he did it, she furrowed her
eyebrows.  He grinned sheepishly.  By the third time, she was annoyed.  He
shrugged, flashing an innocent grin.  She melted, letting him paint the top of
the wall when she couldn’t reach.

The group attacked the walls.  Tom
was happier than a toddler, mixing and refilling paint trays.  They slowly
worked their way around the room.  Within a short time, all the walls were
painted.  They stood back and marveled at their progress.  They were further
ahead than Meara had anticipated.  The walls were completely painted in green
and already drying.  She wanted to start on the window trim and mouldings, but
she would let the group decide.

“It looks great!  Thanks everyone! 
Are you ready for pizza?” asked Meara.  “Anyone want to call it a night?”

“Heck, no!” said Tom.  “Now that
the walls are out of the way, we’re in the home stretch.  And it’s only been an
hour.  I know I don’t have the biggest job, but I’m still game.”

“I’m fine too.  What’s next, Miss
Meara?” asked Duncan.

There were plenty of windows and
moulding to paint.  Meara had the group attack one wall at a time.  In the next
hour, the hardworking little group finished three walls with the cream paint. 
Everyone noticed Duncan and Meara working together, looking for spots needing
green paint touch ups.  All the cream painting was done except for one window
up high.  Meara knew the others were getting tired.  She would wait and paint
the window herself tomorrow.

“Pizza, anyone?” asked Meara.

The group was ready to quit.  Pizza
was the last thing on their minds.  They silently conspired to give Duncan and
Meara time alone.

“Miss Meara, it’s been fun.  I want
to enjoy the peace and quiet while the wife is away,” Tom said solemnly.  “I’d
like to remember being a bachelor, even for a few hours.”

“We’re going over to a friend’s
house for game night,” said Sherrie.  “Can we do it some other time?”

“And I should get this old guy home
before he turns into a pumpkin.  It’s past his bedtime, the old geezer,” said
Lucy affectionately.

“Honey, I’m standing right here,”
Joe said, rolling his eyes.  “It’s really because she wants to go skinny
dipping by moonlight.”

“Joe!  You’ve been hanging out with
Tom too much,” Lucy said.

Everyone laughed.  Tom, Sherrie,
Dave, Lucy and Joe headed for the doors.  Duncan turned to Meara.

“Miss Meara, if you wait, I’ll walk
you out,” said Duncan, sadly.  “I’ll come back in fifteen minutes.”

“I’d like that, Mr. Phillips.  I’ll
get my stuff.”

With all the painting done, there
was no reason for Duncan to be alone with Meara tomorrow.  Sighing, he went to
lock up his office.  He would offer to take her out to dinner.  He had a
feeling she would find an excuse not to go.  Meara stared at the last
unfinished window.  She tried to convince herself she would come back
tomorrow.  That wasn’t good enough.  She couldn’t leave it unpainted.  She
dragged the ladder over to the window.  She reached the top without stretching. 
If she hurried, he would never know.  She finished the top and both sides
quickly.  She started on the bottom of the window.

“Miss Meara!  What are you doing?”
he asked, astonished to see her up the ladder with a paintbrush in her hand.

“Mr. Phillips, I couldn’t leave
this window unpainted.  It would bother me all night.  I’m sorry, I’m holding
you up.  I’ll stop.”

“No, I was only surprised.  The
unfinished window would bother me too.  You’re almost done.  Finish it.  I’ll
hold the ladder.”

“Thanks.  I can’t believe we got it
all done so quickly.  Everyone was wonderful.  I wish they would have let me
get them pizza,” she rambled, the butterflies swarming in her stomach.  “There,
that should do it.”

“About dinner,” he said, slowly. 
“Would you go out with me tonight?”