Page 29

TWENTY-EIGHT

ANDRE

Sleep evaded me most of the night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ethan’s hurt expression over and over—tensed shoulders, sadness in his eyes, forced smiles. The memory twisted my heart. Even my anticipation about the upcoming Library Association call failed to override my guilt.

Was this karma knocking me in the head? Getting professional recognition while my personal life shattered? The call had the potential to be life-changing for my career. But what good was success when I’d hurt someone I was in love with?

I rubbed my tired eyes and looked at my phone.

6:45 AM .

I could lie here for another hour, but what was the point? My mind wouldn’t stop grinding anyway.

What should’ve been a soothing shower was filled with memories of warm water and tender touches shared with Ethan. I braced my hands against the cool tile and sighed. What olive branch could I extend?

Send him flowers at the rink? Too public. Write him an apology letter? Too much like something out of Bridgerton or Jane Austen. Cook him dinner? That might work, if he’d even agree to come over.

As the water ran cold, I stepped out and dried off, still turning possibilities over in my mind.

I pulled on a soft gray sweater and dark jeans—something that said I care about my appearance, but I’m not trying too hard . The outfit felt right for both the Library Association call and anything I might do later with Ethan.

My stomach growled as I headed out to my car, reminding me I’d barely eaten yesterday. Special Blend would already be open, so I headed that direction.

A light fog hung over Maple Street, giving everything a dreamy quality. City crews were already out taking Pride decorations down. Later this morning volunteers would pack away the tents, including the one we’d had our first kiss under.

I looked across the park when I got out of my car. We’d pulled off something really fantastic this weekend.

Jenny’s cheerful expression greeted me as I entered the coffee shop. “Breakfast sandwich and tea?”

“Please.” I studied the pastry case while she entered my order. The maple tarts looked perfect, golden brown and perfectly glazed. “And two of those.”

Her eyebrows rose, but she didn’t comment as she boxed them. Two of his favorite treats might smooth the way.

“Have you seen Ethan this morning?” The question slipped out before I could stop myself.

“He was first in the door.” Her expression gave away nothing about how Ethan might have been.

I kept my tone neutral. “Can I borrow a pen?”

She passed me a marker, and I wrote carefully on the pastry box. I wanted no mistakes when he had his app read it out. Can we please have lunch today? Andre .

It wasn’t much but it was a start. Now I just had to get the box to him somehow.

A few more early-morning people arrived and there was small talk all around. I moved to hide the message on the box to help keep it off the gossip network. Jenny quickly had the rest of my order ready, and I paid her.

“Good luck,” she said softly.

“Thanks.”

The drive to the rink took only a few minutes. Camp didn’t start until eight, so it was possible I’d catch him alone. Texting Liam was a possibility and I could pass the tarts off to him to put them where Ethan would find them. I didn’t want to make a public spectacle of giving him the box.

Indecision held me in its grip as I parked my car next to Ethan’s. I drank some tea, took a couple bites from my sandwich, and considered options.

In the rearview mirror, I saw Tommy and Milo get out of a car and unload their hockey bags and sticks from the trunk.

Problem solved.

I got out of the car with the box in hand. “Morning, guys.”

“Hey, Mr. Thompson,” Milo said, not signing since his hands were full. “What’s up?”

“Could you do me a favor? Could you make sure Ethan gets these?” I gestured to the box in my hands.

They exchanged a look that was far too knowing for teenagers.

“Yeah, we can do that,” Tommy said, sympathy in his voice.

“For sure,” Milo added.

“Thanks.” I handed over the box, my awkwardness mirroring how I felt. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” Tommy had compassion in his eyes.

I watched them head into the rink, hoping the tarts would help start a conversation. And the kids would eat them if Ethan rejected them.

The library was quiet when I arrived, with the Monday morning book crew already in the community room. Clara was working to take down one of the Pride displays to make room for the July themes. Democracy for the entire month. Ice cream for the upcoming festival.

She stopped as I approached. “Morning.” She studied my face. “You look a little better than yesterday.”

“Thanks. I think.” I offered a small smile. “The festival was amazing, even with… everything.”

She nodded. “It was incredible. I know you were worried about how much bigger it was, but it seemed to go off without a hitch. At least that’s what I saw and heard from people.”

It wasn’t all without a hitch.

“Me too.” I stayed focused on the actual festival. “All the feedback’s been superb. And we were lucky that the few things that happened behind the scenes were resolved quickly. The team did outstanding work.”

“Just promise me you won’t try to expand again next year.” She put some rainbow flags in a box.

“Oh, I swear to that. This one was already busting at the seams, so I don’t think we can handle another growth spurt for a few years.”

“So I have to ask.” She stopped packing things away to focus on me. “I noticed a Library Association call on your calendar. Any hint what it’s about?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Yesterday’s email mentioned an opportunity but didn’t have details. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m done.”

“My fingers are crossed for something awesome.”

I smiled and headed back to the office to settle in before the call. As soon as I walked in, I nearly dropped my tea because a Special Blend bag sat on my desk.

That hadn’t been there yesterday.

Moving quickly to the desk, I set my breakfast down. The bag had a note written in block letters. It looked like Ethan had used the same marker I had.

Please have lunch with me. E.

With quivering hands, I opened the bag to find two scones.

A laugh bubbled up in my throat. We’d had the same idea. Either Clara had let him in and hidden it from me or someone from the Monday morning club had, since a couple of their members had a key.

I pulled out my phone to text him.

There were already typing bubbles in our message thread.

Andre: Yes. Special Blend or Red’s or somewhere else?

Ethan: Yes. Red’s or Special Blend or wherever.

The timing of our messages was almost comical as we’d simultaneously sent them.

Ethan: Special Blend works great. 12:30?

Andre: Perfect. See you then .

My phone buzzed again.

Ethan: BTW, the maple tarts were a nice touch. Tommy and Milo were very sneaky about delivering them.

The extra message made my heart lift. It felt like progress.

Andre: The scones were perfect too. Great minds…

I set my phone aside, trying to focus on preparing for the call, but my mind kept drifting to lunch, hoping we’d leave there with a way forward.

At precisely nine, I took a deep breath and clicked to join the virtual meeting.

“Andre! So wonderful to see you.” Stella Bradley’s warm smile filled my screen. She wore her usual stylish glasses with frames that had a purple and blush swirl of color. Her salt-and-pepper hair was in a neat bob. “I hope I’m not interrupting your post-festival recovery too much.”

“Not at all.” I straightened in my chair. “I’m eager to hear about the opportunity you mentioned.”

“I want to take just a moment to say I loved watching some of the festival live stream. You all had some fantastic programming, especially the history sessions on Thursday and Friday’s author talks.”

Oh wow, she’d seen the stream. It never occurred to me that someone from the association would watch.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I’ll let the team know. The stream was a project headed by some students from University of Vermont.”

“A student-led project. That makes it even better as far as I’m concerned.

” She paused and adjusted her glasses. “So, let me get into what we’ve been thinking about.

We’ve been impressed with your banned books initiative.

The way you’ve engaged the community, created safe spaces for discussion, and have such an extensive collection is a remarkable achievement for a town the size of Maplewood.

Then there’s the work you’ve done to help other libraries launch similar programs.”

My chest swelled with pride. “Thank you. I couldn’t do it without the support of our staff and patrons.”

“With your experience, we’d like you to come work with us.” She leaned forward. “We want to launch a nationwide program to encourage and support libraries to develop similar initiatives. We need someone to lead it. Someone who understands both the practical and emotional aspects of this work.”

I blinked, processing her words. “Are you saying…”

“We’d like you to head up the project.” Her smile widened. “It would be a one-year contract based in Seattle with some travel to other regions. You’d be developing training and marketing materials, mentoring other librarians, scaling up what you’ve done in Maplewood.”

Seattle. Where Ethan lived most of the time. Talk about a coincidence .

“This is… wow.” I struggled to find the right words. “I’m honored. Can I ask about the timeline?”

“Of course.” She pulled up what looked like a calendar.

“We’d want you to start in September, which would give you time to transition things in Maplewood.

The bulk of the work would be September through May, with more flexibility in the summer months.

We imagine you could be in Maplewood for the summer, especially Pride month, since we know that’s important to you. ”

My mind raced with possibilities. This was an incredible opportunity. And so much opened up if I was in Seattle during hockey season.

“Can I take a few days to consider everything?” I asked carefully. “This would be a big move.”

“Of course.” Stella nodded in understanding. “I’ll send you more information as soon as we hang up. We can set up another call later this week to discuss more and answer any questions you may have. I do hope you’ll say yes but understand it’s a big ask.”

After we said our goodbyes, I sat back in my chair, overwhelmed by the morning’s developments. The project was exactly the kind of work I’d dreamed of doing. That it was in Seattle felt like the universe was either helping us come together or playing a cruel joke.

First things first, though. Ethan and I needed to have lunch in a couple of hours. Then, maybe, we could talk about what this might mean for us.