With Cruel Intent (42 page)

“Anybody here, Caroline you around?”

“Quit yer yelling, I’m a comin',

I’m a comin',” Caroline said, scooting

down the upper hallway where she’d been

doing some cleaning.

“Ms. Carmichael, pleasure to see

you again,” he said, turning on the charm.

“Well, I never expected to see

your handsome face here this morning,”

she said, walking down the stairs and

extending her hand.

“Got some work to finish up here

in Valdosta over the next couple days and

missed your home cooking so much,

thought I’d see if you could give me a

room.”

“Oh I think I can arrange

something fer ya. How long will you be

staying and do you want the main floor or

the second?” she asked.

“I’m not sure how long, maybe up

to a week. Is that librarian still staying

here? You know, the good lookin’ one?”

he inquired.

“That would be Miss Delaney, oh

yeah, she’s still with us. You got your eye

on her do you?”

“I wouldn’t mind sharing a

bathroom with her again. Of course, if

that's okay with you?” he said, with a

wink.

“Don’t make no never mind to me

who shares what, long as I get paid,” she

quipped, motioning for him to pick up his

bag and follow her. “The room you were

in before is now occupied, some

accountant staying in there, but you can

have the one that the newlyweds were in,

just changed the sheets and cleaned it up

fer ya.”

“I’m much obliged. When do I get

some of that special fruit salad of yours?”

he said, lightly tapping her on the bottom

as she turned to walk out of the room.

“You devil, teasing an old lady

when all you're really after is her fruit

salad,” she said, shaking her large, round

bottom at him. “Dinner is at 6:30 sharp.

See you then.”

* * *

The remainder of the librarian's

day passed as most did, kids and adults

coming and going from the library.

Blanche had instituted a new afternoon

reading program for preschool aged

children that she was very much enjoying.

Throughout the week when she had a few

spare minutes, she would browse the

children’s section, looking for books that

might entertain the little ones, then on

Friday afternoon at 3:00 p.m. parents

were invited to bring their children for a

reading of these selected books. The first

couple of weeks the attendance had been

limited but today she had to ask Mr.

Marcus to bring in additional chairs for

the adults and mats for the children. She

enjoyed looking out at the smiling,

beaming little faces that were just now

learning to have a love of literature.

Today she had chosen, ‘The

Marvelous Mind of Marlin Marsh’ written

by H. Broby. She held the book so the

children

could

see

the

colorful

illustrations as she read each page,

exaggerating the key words, and changing

her voice to the delight of the children. A

sense of accomplishment and joy filled

her heart as the young parents thanked her

at the end of the session. Telling her how

much their children were enjoying these

special

Friday

afternoons.

Blanche

couldn’t help but wonder if one day she’d

have a chance to share her love of books

with her own small children.

As she was cleaning up the area,

she noted that Marcus was hauling a

ladder up the stairs, again heading to the

second floor. “Now what are you up to?”

she asked.

“Oh

some

knucklehead

has

tampered with the alarm on the fire exit

door and I’ve got to see if I can fix it

before next week. Always gotta be some

idiot making more work for me,” he

grunted.

“Is it still safe, I mean the door?”

she asked.

“Shouldn’t be used at all except

for a fire, but the door still works, just has

an alarm that sounds when you open the

door, but that’s not working till I can see

what’s wrong with it.”

“Let me know if you’re able to fix

it, otherwise, I’ll need to speak with Ester

about it, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll see what I can do.”

Six o’clock rolled around much

more quickly than Blanche had expected.

Marcus had stopped by the desk shortly

before going home for the day, informing

her that the alarm was not repairable, and

he’d have to order a new one the

beginning of next week, but he’d put a sign

by the door indicating that it was not to be

used except in the case of an emergency.

The door led to a small landing on the

exterior of the building, with a slide type

shoot that extended to the ground below,

specifically designed for fire escapes

only.

The evening dinner guests were

already seated around the table when

Blanche walked in the door from work.

She tried to slip by without being noticed

so she could get to her room and prepare

for her evening with Seymour, but she

heard Caroline call from the dining room.

“Blanche, that you dear?’ her

voice echoed through the empty foyer.

“Yes Caroline, I’m just hurrying

up to my room, going out tonight and need

to get ready,” she called back, still

moving to the stairs.

“Come here for a minute will you,

someone here that would like to say hello.

We’ll make it quick.”

The annoyed young woman moved

to the dining area, leaned in and said,

“Hello everyone, sorry to be interrupting

your dinner. What was that you were

saying Ms. Carmichael?” Then just as the

words left her mouth she saw him sitting

among the other guests, 'Clueless Wonder'.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she

thought.

“Mr. Unger has returned for

another few days and he wanted to say

hello,” Caroline said, awaiting the

response from Blanche, as was Mrs. Muir.

“We thought you’d be anxious to

say hello as well,” Mrs. Muir included

trying not to snicker.

“Miss Delaney," he said, lifting

his hand to wave slightly.

"Hello again," Blanche managed,

without being rude.

"I hope you don’t mind sharing the

same floor and bathroom again, even

appears we’ll be sharing a wall, hope you

don’t mind. I was wondering if we could

start off, this time around, on better

footing,” Felix said, trying to win her

over.

“I guess I don’t mind sharing the

bathroom, but could we have a more

workable arrangement this time. Would be

nice if we could have a compromise,” she

said, trying to stand up for herself.

“Sure, whatever you want, you

name the time you need the facilities in the

morning and I’ll work around your

schedule. How would that be?” he said.

“Uh, I would appreciate that and

thank you. Let’s say I start at 6:00 and I

shouldn’t be longer than 20 minutes. That

okay?” He wanted something and she

knew it.

“Perfect, then we can have

breakfast together at 7:00. You’re headed

out tonight?” he probed.

“Yeah, going out with a friend

from work, so better get ready. Have a

good evening everyone,” she said, as she

pulled away from the door jam and

hustled up the stairs to the safety of her

room.

“That guy just makes me feel like I

need to shower,” she thought, as she

touched up her makeup, brushed her teeth

and ran a brush through her hair. She was

uncertain of what she should wear so she

left her work attire on, didn’t want to

make too bold of a statement on their first

real date. She sat on the bed and waited

for Seymour to arrive, the words of both

Marcus and Mrs. Wood played through

her mind, bothering her, “Was nine years

too many? Was she robbing the cradle?”

She weighed the answers until she

could hear Caroline shouting from down

the stairs, “Blanche! Miss Delaney, your

young friend is here,” heavy emphasis on

the ‘young’ or at least her ears heard it

that way.

Blanche took one last look at

herself in the mirror, quickly ran her

tongue over her teeth, and smiled at the

image looking back at her. For one of the

few times in her life she was quite

satisfied with who was looking back, a

more self assured, happy version of

Blanche D. Delaney, librarian, daughter

and now hot, older girlfriend.

The scene that awaited her at the

bottom of the stairs both startled and

delighted her. Seymour stood near the last

step, looking upward, awaiting his date.

Mrs. Muir and Caroline stood a few steps

behind him looking the scene over,

wanting to see the reaction on Blanche’s

face when she saw the handsome

Seymour. The young man, an ear-to-ear

smile on his face, held a beautiful

bouquet, vibrant yellow and orange

flowers interspersed with pale pink roses,

tightly clutched in his right hand, and a

delicate

corsage,

matching

the

arrangement in his left.

When he saw his date his face lit

up as if it were Christmas morning, “I

couldn’t decide which would be more

appropriate for a first date, so I got both.

Hope it’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay,” Blanche

said, one hand brought to her neck, the

other to a cheek.

“They

call

this

arrangement

‘Autumn Beauty’, kind of reminded me of

you and your hair, so I’m glad you like it,”

he said, still glowing, but lost in the

beauty that was her.

Seymour stood in a suit that was

slightly too small for him, a matching tie

that was poorly tied, and a pair of shoes

that were a bit outdated, but looked like

they’d only been worn a few times. He

was remarkably handsome tonight, the

dimple in his left cheek made her heart

skip a beat.

“I feel a little under-dressed.

Should I go change into something more

formal?” she hesitated, coming all the way

to the bottom of the stairs where Seymour

and the old hens were clustered.

“No, no, you look amazing. Don’t

change a thing. I just wanted to make a

good impression so I pulled out this old

thing. Fits a little small but my mom

thought I looked good enough, so here I

am,” he said, not taking his eyes off

Blanche.

“Are you sure? Would only take

me a minute. Really, is this okay?” she

said, motioning to the cotton shirt and dark

slacks that hugged her curves.

“If you were wearing a torn t-shirt

and ragged jeans you’d still look just as

beautiful, so I’d say we’re good to go.”

“Hope you’re a better student than

liar,” she said, finally meeting him on the

bottom step. Standing on the lowest step

they were about the same height, she put

her hands on his shoulders and pulled him

to her, planting a soft, gentle kiss on his

lips, to the surprise of both ladies.

“Thank you for the flowers, can’t

remember the last time somebody brought

me flowers. Caroline would you please

put these in some water for me until I get

back?” she asked, taking the bouquet from

Seymour’s hand and giving them to the

nosey landlord. “Seymour, I’d like you to

meet Mrs. Muir and the owner of this fine

establishment, Ms. Caroline Carmichael.”

Pleasantries were exchanged as the older

ladies made a fuss over the flowers and

the young couple.

“I think this is supposed to pin on

your shirt or something,” he said, holding

up the dainty little corsage.

“It’s just so beautiful, Seymour.

Would you pin it on me? It’s too awkward

to do on myself,” she said, moving toward

him and pulling her hair away from the