Page 91 of Where You're Planted

“This isn’t about me. It’s about the community.”

“Aren’t you part of the community? You lost as much as anyone else. Your home. Your belongings. Your kid’s school. Your work.”

The tears were coming, no matter how hard Tansy fought them off. She wiped at her eyes hastily. “The school is open again. My house is—”

“Oh, sure, it can all be recovered. Until the next act of God. I’m just saying, you’ve thrown yourself into this mission without stopping to acknowledge what you’ve lost. Tofeelit.”

Tansy didn’t want tofeelher losses. That was wallowing, and wallowing was a black hole she never wanted to get sucked into again.

“I’m also saying, at a certain point, it stops making sense to rebuild something that’s going to get destroyed again. Isn’t that the exact definition of insanity?”

“So we should just give up? Let the branch close? Leave people without services? Go somewhere that’s already stable enough not to need them as badly?”

“You’re notlettinganything, honey. This is what I’m trying to tell you. When you got them to move you into the gardens, you thought it was a real chance to save the branch, but it wasPR. Too much attention on a library closing, so they kicked the can and let it fade out of people’s memories. Nothing was gonna change their mind. Except maybe that grant. Even then, who knows?”

The grant. She’d known how important that money was, but hearing Rashida confirm it was too much to bear. “I just don’t accept that. I can’t.”

“I’m sorry, hon.”

Tansy wiped her eyes again and then dried her fingers on her skirt.

“There’s an opening here,” Rashida said after a moment, gently. “Children’s services.”

Tansy huffed a bitter laugh and pushed up from her chair. She had come here for her library, not for a job for herself.

Rashida met her at the door, blocking it. “You did more than anyone could have expected.”

“Not enough.”

“You reached patrons these last months. You kept it going for them. That’s not nothing.”

But it felt like nothing. It felt like she’d not only broken her own heart all over again by holding out hope, but that she’d also inflicted the same pain on her friends who had followed her into that shed, and every patron who had come to her programs and worked around the less-than-ideal circumstances. Kai, Marianne, and Irma would have to relocate to other branches for good, maybe even move. Tansy would have to halt the tool drive she’d just announced, cancel the gardening club. They hadn’t even had their first meeting yet.

Their little shed felt so cramped and inadequate just a few months ago. But it was going to hurt to close it for good, just as bad as when they gutted their old building.

—

When Tansy returned to thegardens, Kai was waiting for her at the entrance fountain.

“What’s wrong now?” she asked grimly, sitting next to them.

“Actually, it might be good news?”

Tansy couldn’t work up any genuine enthusiasm but nodded for Kai to spill.

“Ian told me earlier that Jack was looking all over for you.”

“Yeah, he texted. I haven’t had a chance to get back to him.”

“Well, he has some kind of plan. Apparently, he applied for this enormous grant so they can work around their frozen budget and resume their expansion project, and he found out today that they’re a finalist.”

“A grant?” Tansy whispered. Her entire life force drained out of her body.

“Yeah, the Brisket King, of all people, is donating the money.” Kai laughed, but they clocked Tansy’s face and their smile faded. “It’s good news,” they said, but uncertainty bled into their voice. “Because Jack and Ian will make sure we can stay here in the park. What…am I missing? You look like you’re going to pass out.”

Tansy immediately pushed up to her feet, but her legs felt shaky. Her stomach felt shaky, too. She scanned the park for Jack’s green ball cap until Kai rose in front of her and angled their face directly into her eyeline. “Tansy?”

Ian came through the side gate by the visitor’s center, and Tansy shouted his name far too loudly.