Page 1 of Sweet Music (Sugarville Grove #7)

BELLA

B ella stood at the edge of the children’s library section, unable to keep from smiling as she watched one of the volunteers read an Amelia Bedelia book to the children.

This was Bella’s five-year-old group, so they were all over the place in behavior and interest. Some were howling with laughter at Amelia’s misunderstandings.

Some were just staring up at the reader, Lois Abraham, who was clearly of more interest to them than the story.

Little Tim Perrault stood beside Lois, shyly putting a hand on her shoulder, and Emmy Rogers had fully crawled onto her lap.

When Bella first started the volunteer reading program, she used to intervene when the kids didn’t behave well or tried to snuggle the reader.

But she had learned over time that her volunteer crew didn’t mind a bit.

This tight-knit group of women all had kids and grandkids of their own, and were more than used to the antics of the little ones.

Although the group was officially called the Sugarville Grove Volunteer Library Readers, they had nicknamed themselves the Grandmas Without Borders, and Bella caught them doing all kinds of good deeds besides reading to the kids.

From the danishes that were left in the library office on weekends, to the posters that now hung at every business in town whenever the library held a fundraiser, to the day she caught Judy Bunting feverishly wiping down everything at the circulation desk down to the individual pencils the week everyone in town seemed to have the flu, Bella was always amazed and grateful for their enthusiastic help.

At this point, the grandmas had pretty much infiltrated the whole Sugarville Grove Public Library system, and there wasn’t a single complaint.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Abraham finished her book and the children clapped for her with all the passion of diehard fans pleading for an encore at a Bruce Springsteen concert.

“How about Goodnight, Gorilla ?” she asked, picking up another book to the children’s immediate delight.

“Excuse me,” someone said.

Bella turned to see a pair of girls who were a little older than her nephew, who went to the local high school.

One had long blonde hair in braids and the other wore spiky jewelry accented with long black fingernails.

She didn’t recognize either of them, so she figured they must be from the college.

She got a familiar shiver of excitement knowing that they were almost definitely here to check out some indie music.

“Hi, girls,” she said. “How can I help you? ”

“They said at the desk that you had a local music section?” one of the girls asked, confirming Bella’s suspicions.

“Yes,” Bella said, pleased as always to show off the library’s small music area. “Follow me.”

The library director had allowed Bella to take charge of the music collection and start a local section when she noticed that it was a passion project for her. Bella hoped her Vermont Artists display would be her legacy long after she was retired and coming back here as one of the grandmas.

“Here we go,” she said, gesturing to the beautifully stocked shelves that she had set up to display up-and-coming local artists as well as established Vermont bands.

“Wow, you’ve got Strangefolk,” the girl with the braids said, nodding approvingly. “And Grace Potter and the Nocturnals.”

“Ana?s Mitchell,” the other one said, one black fingernail caressing the spine of the CD. “I didn’t know she was from here.”

“If you like Grace Potter, you might like The Milk Angels,” Bella said, pointing to a relatively unknown band whose catchy rhythms she was sure were going to have them on the national scene one day. “They play at a small venue in Burlington every Saturday, for now at least.”

“Yeah, we know The Milk Angels,” the fingernail girl sniffed.

“Where’s Cash Law?” the girl with the braids asked.

Bella felt a familiar flame of frustration lick at her insides, but she tamped it down, like always.

“Cash Law is famous on a national level,” she said. “So, you can find his stuff in the regular rock section.”

“But you have Phish in this section,” the girl with the braids said.

“Staind is over here too,” her friend pointed out. “And Noah Kahan. Cash Law should be front and center of the Vermont display. He’s like super local, and his big break-out was at that Burlington concert. He’s probably some kind of hometown legend for you people.”

You people.

Yeah, these were definitely out-of-state kids from the college who had heard about her collection.

And that’s fine, she reminded herself. The library is for everyone.

“Great feedback,” Bella told her politely. “I’ll definitely keep it in mind when we rotate the display.”

“I guess,” the girl replied, shrugging.

Bella headed back toward the children’s section.

“What does some boring librarian know about good music anyway?” the girl murmured to her friend.

Bella ignored them, deciding that the girl hadn’t meant for her to hear that remark, even when the friend giggled loudly.

And even though it stung, it tracked.

Bella’s cool cousin, Harper, had introduced her to the local music scene when she was a teenager, and the two of them had devoured all the local artists, from folk groups to hardcore bands, whenever Bella got the chance to visit Harper’s family in Burlington .

But Bella’s taste in music didn’t really impact her style or her attitude the way it seemed to for a lot of people. On the outside, with her long wool skirts and cardigans, and her soft library voice, she probably seemed like the last person who would be a fan of the indie music scene.

You can be yourself and love what you love, Harper’s voice said reassuringly in her head. You’re the real deal.

Bella smiled, even as she felt a pang of loss for the older cousin who had always been her hero.

As soon as the children in the reading circle were back in sight, Bella felt completely content again. She had built a life that was just right for herself, sharing her love of books and music with her community. That was all that mattered. She didn’t need street cred with the college girls.

Just as Bella returned, Mrs. Abraham finished another book, and the kids began cheering for her again.

“Oh, my goodness,” the older woman said with a smile. Then she sneezed.

“ God bless you ,” all the little voices chorused.

“Thank y —achoo ,” she sneezed again.

“ God bless you ,” the children said again.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Abraham said, looking down at the little girl who still lolled in her lap. “Emmy Rogers, you don’t have a cat at your house, do you?”

Emmy shook her head.

“Oh, good,” Mrs. Abraham said and then sneezed again.

“I have three cats,” Emmy told her proudly.

“Isn’t that lovely,” Mrs. Abraham said fondly before sneezing again, three times in a row.

“Mrs. Abraham,” Bella said, rushing over. “Why don’t you head out? I can read the last story today.”

“Oh, yes,” the sweet lady said. “I’d better find my allergy medicine. Thank you so much children, for reading with me today.”

The children chorused back a thank you to her and she hurried off, sneezing twice more before she made it out of sight.

Bella slipped over to sit in the special chair and look at what other books Mrs. Abraham had pulled for today.

“What do we think about a Piggie and Gerald book?” she asked.

When she glanced up at the kids, she spotted her nephew Cody standing near the back. He must have slipped in during Mrs. Abraham’s sneezing fit.

Thank goodness he didn’t overhear that conversation about music, Bella thought to herself.

The teen stood as far away from everyone as possible, his wide shoulders practically brushing the bookshelves at the back of the section.

He was in his usual uniform of jeans, a black t-shirt, and a faded, navy-blue hoodie.

His guitar, which he was never far from if he could help it, leaned against the bookshelf next to him.

Cody’s dark hair was just long enough to brush his shoulders, and the look in his expressive brown eyes told her his mind was on something far, far away from this tiny town and its library.

He looks so much like his dad, Bella thought to herself without meaning to.

“ Miss Bella, Miss Bella, ” Susan Charlotte called out worriedly, stopping her train of thought. “Bennet Baxter needs help in the bathroom.”

“Oh my goodness,” Bella said, glancing around but not finding any other adults in the area. “Cody, can you come over and help out for a minute?”

She wasn’t surprised when he came immediately. Her nephew was a typical moody teenager on the outside, but deep down, he had always been a good-hearted boy.

And I’m going to make sure he stays that way.

“Cody, would you maybe read to the kids, or play something for them?” she asked. “I just need to go check on Bennet.”

“Sure,” he said, looking only slightly panicked.

His deep voice still surprised her from time to time. She couldn’t help thinking of him as a little boy.

“Thank you,” she said, hurrying over to the bathroom.

The library architect must have been a parent or at the very least a thoughtful soul. There were bathrooms right off the children’s section, and that had turned out to be a blessing so many times, for so many reasons.

Bella opened the door, bracing herself for what she was going to find inside. She truly loved children, books, and music, so she had pretty much the perfect job. But there were definitely some less than glamorous aspects of working with little kids.

“Hi, Bennet,” she called out in her gentlest voice as she stepped in. “How can I help?”

“I’m stuck,” a small voice said sadly from the last stall.

“You’re… stuck ?” she asked. “Can I try the handle?”

“Okay,” Bennet said.

The door to the stall opened instantly, but then she saw what he meant.

Bennet had been wearing a black and red checked flannel under a pair of denim overalls today. He looked like an adorable little boy on a holiday card, but it wasn’t the easiest outfit for a barely five-year-old to navigate for the bathroom.

Now poor Bennet was tangled up like a kitten in a ball of yarn. He’d made a real puzzle out of the overall straps and even the shirt, which he had, for mysterious reasons known only to himself, fully unbuttoned as part of his bathroom trip.

“Is it okay if I help you?” Bella asked.

Bennet nodded his head up and down, a solemn expression in his eyes.

“Okay,” she told him. “Let’s start by taking the overalls down a little and untangling them so we can pull them back up nice and neatly.”

At least his underpants were on correctly, and his overall straps had miraculously not ended up in the toilet at any point during his entanglement.

She had him fully dressed again in a minute or two, and even showed him quickly how to lower the overalls just by undoing one strap next time.

“Ready to go back out?” she asked him.

He answered by taking her hand and leading her back out of the stall. They both washed their hands, and then he grabbed hers again, a pleased expression on his face as they rejoined his friends out in the library, as if maybe he had been the one to help her out of a jam .

She was glad to see Cody sitting on the floor with the kids. He wasn’t playing his guitar or reading to them, but he was talking with them earnestly, and letting them play with the zipper on his hoodie.

This is what growth looks like , she told herself firmly.

When Cody first came to live with her after Harper passed away, Bella had been afraid she would never be able to bring the sad, quiet boy out of his shell at all.

But seeing him now with the little kids warmed her heart. The children were so sweet and loving that it was pretty much impossible to resist them. And she could see by Cody’s crooked half-smile that he was getting a kick out of hanging out with them.

When the children spotted her, they began asking for another book. But the parents were already filing in to pick up the kids now, and that meant it was time to get Cody to his guitar lesson.

She headed over to get him, but one of the moms got to him first.

“Are you Tag Lawrence’s boy?” Emmy’s mom asked Cody.

He shook his head without making eye contact, but Bella could see an expression of panic flash across his face before he shut it down, replacing it with the wooden look of an awkward teen.

“This is my nephew, Cody,” Bella said right away. “Harper Wood’s son.”

“Oh wow,” Mrs. Rogers said with a smile. “He’s a dead ringer for one of the Lawrence boys when they were younger.”

Bella wasn’t sure how to react to that. The most obvious issue aside, the Lawrence boys had always been known for their good looks. So it was a compliment, but maybe not an appropriate one for a fifteen-year-old boy.

She glanced at Cody and saw that the corner of his mouth was tucked up slightly, so he clearly didn’t mind some kindergartener’s mom basically saying he was handsome.

Thank you, Bella prayed silently in relief.

“Time for guitar,” Cody said.

When their eyes met, his said so much more—that the Lawrence thing had been a close one, and that they shared a secret.

She felt a little burst of happiness. Bella was grateful every time she broke down his walls and got a chance to bond with him a bit, no matter the reason why.

“Definitely,” Bella told him. “Are you ready?”

He nodded, and they headed out to the library entrance, where the big glass windows were hung with snowflakes, and the walls were covered in decorations made by the kids, celebrating Christmas, Hanukkah, and all the other winter holidays.

Outside, snowflakes were swirling down lazily. It wasn’t enough to stick, but it sure was pretty. The two of them grabbed their coats from the rack by the door, and pulled them on as they headed outside. The breeze that met them was freezing-cold and almost sweet.

Cody seemed to perk up a little as he took in the fresh air and the winter weather. His slumped posture straightened up, and she noticed again how tall he was getting.

It was so hard not to let herself get lost in wishing Harper could be here to see him.

I’m going to make sure he has a wonderful Christmas, she told her cousin inwardly. No matter what.