“Bea!” Josephine chastised her in turn.
Bea threw their visitor a superior look before her eyes moved on to her sister. Once they were settled upon Elise, though, her expression became harder to define.
Tears of exhaustion sprang into Elise’s eyes. She had to blink rapidly to keep them from falling.
A tiny, satisfied smile feathered the side of Bea’s mouth. Then she turned away and rolled resolutely out of the room.
The television blared into a newsbreak but no one seemed to notice. At the closing click of Bea’s door, Josephine switched off the set. Silence permeated the room.
A moment later Elise said softly, “I suppose today has been difficult for her.”
Josephine’s jaw was tight. “I don’t see why. Between the two of us we’ve done everything we possibly could for her. She takes advantage of you, Elise, you know that. Anyone else would tell her to take her dictatorial ways and jump into the nearest—”
Elise sat forward, interrupting her. “Tomorrow really shouldn’t be as bad as today. There’ll be a lot to do, but at least I know what to expect. I can’t tell you how horrible it was this morning to look into that room and see that gigantic bubble hanging from the ceiling. Then to be standing almost under it when it broke!” Elise started to laugh, a release from tension. “I was grabbing books, trying to get them out of harm’s way, then, whoosh! We had our own indoor monsoon!”
“How did you get along with Professor Fairmont?” Josephine asked. “Does he think he can do anything to help with the new library?”
Elise’s laughter stopped. She had been successful in keeping the man out of her thoughts from shortly after she saw him leave late in the afternoon to this moment. She shrugged. “We didn’t really have time to talk. He’s coming back on Friday. We’ll discuss it then.”
Josephine nodded. “I told you before that he impressed me. I like the way he looks you straight in the eye and doesn’t bother to hide what he thinks. You know where you stand with someone like that. Not that he can’t charm the birds from the trees when he wants—you can see that at first glance, too. But there’s something underneath. A fine, strong character.”
Buttercup leaped gracefully onto the couch and started to purr as Elise absently stroked her silky head. “I felt like he could see too much,” she mused.
“What do you mean?” Josephine asked, frowning.
Elise shook her head, then was forced to cover a huge yawn.
Smiling good-naturedly, Josephine stood up. “The best favor you can do for yourself right now is get into bed and not worry about a thing. I’ve taken care of the kitchen. All the dishes are washed and put away. I also made some of Bea’s favorite breakfast rolls for tomorrow morning, so that should keep her happy, at least for a while.” Josephine took a moment to examine her friend closely. “It probably won’t do any good,” she said, “but I’m going to say it anyway. You’re taking too much onto yourself, Elise. Wearing yourself too thin. You can’t handle all the burdens of this town as well as those of your family. One person can carry only so much!”
Elise returned the woman’s gaze with tolerant amusement. “I’ll remember to give you the same speech the beginning of next semester when you’re single-handedly trying to drag the high school along in your wake. We’ve known each other for too long, Josephine.”
Josephine grimaced. “You’re probably right. Sometimes I think I’ll retire early. Go off on one of those world cruises, the kind that only single people can get a ticket on. Meet some nice man and settle down. Want to come along?”
“What? And shock everyone in Tyler? We’re going to keep doing what we’re doing forever, remember? Our lives can’t change. Town institutions don’t just get up and waltz away from their duties.”
Josephine located her purse. “Maybe one day we’ll surprise them all. The head of the library waltzes off, the head of the high school waltzes off....”
“I’ll just be happy to have the new library.”
Josephine nodded in resignation. “Me, too. One small step. Then maybe the school can build a new science lab. We’re not asking for that much, are we?”
Elise saw her friend to the door and gave her a warm hug. “Thanks for all you did today. At the library. Here.”
“Anytime. Well, no. I didn’t mean it that way. We certainly don’t want another accident.”
Elise waved as Josephine drove away, then she closed the door and secured it. The house was quiet when she turned. Quiet and somehow empty. Bea was in her room, waiting to have her hair brushed. The marmalade cat was fast asleep on the couch. Echoes of their parents still could be felt in the decor that had changed little since their deaths so many years before. Yet there were times when it just wasn’t enough.
Elise drew a soft breath, braced her weary shoulders and went to tap on Bea’s door. The call for entry came without hesitation.
Bea was sitting up in bed, the wheelchair off at an angle nearby. Elise moved it in order to get the brush out of the bedside table drawer. Bea had already taken her hair down, the long, pale threads her last remaining pride. Wordlessly, Elise perched on the edge of the mattress and began the ritual that ended each sister’s day.
As usual, Bea relaxed when the long strokes with the brush began, and as usual, Elise’s mind wandered. Tonight her thoughts flew to a certain time in the day when she had sat at her desk directly opposite a vital, attractive man, and he had placed his hand over hers and told her not to worry. And for a few enchanted seconds, she hadn’t worried. All her cares had lifted as she became lost in the certainty of his voice and the look in his unusual yellow-brown eyes.
Bea moved impatiently. “Have you gone to sleep?” she demanded. “You’ve stopped brushing!”
Elise immediately shook the memory away, glad that her sister couldn’t see the warm flush that had crept into her cheeks.
* * *
AMID THE FAMILIAR surroundings of his apartment in Milwaukee, Robert Fairmont sat at his drafting table and contemplated the set of blueprints for the Tyler library. He frowned in concentration as he moved from sheet to sheet and finally to the specifications at the end. It was a good job, nothing less than he expected from Fred Dupont—which was exactly what he’d decided after reviewing the project the day before. Fred had been a good student and now he was a good practicing architect in the firm with which Robert himself was affiliated. But Robert could see where civic pride and a good artist’s instincts had eventually led to a clash with today’s fiscal reality.
He checked the papers that constituted the history of the project. First contact with the firm had come nearly three years before, at a time when matching funds from state and federal sources were much easier for small towns like Tyler to access. As those sources dried up, any number of civic projects all over the state had been put on hold.
He returned to the specifications. Yes, it truly was a beautiful job. The library would have been a building all involved could be proud of. Only now it faced the same threats as had the courthouse in Johnstown Corners and the new administration building in Bennington Falls before he had found a way to save them. Could he help the people of Tyler in the same way?
He smiled slightly to himself. The simplest solution would be to lop off the top floor of the two-story Greek Revival structure, but he doubted that the chief librarian would sit still for that. And he couldn’t blame her. Space was so cramped in the building that presently housed the library. What would be the sense of constructing a new building that gave them very little additional room? The collection wouldn’t get wet, but that was about all he could promise.
Robert moved away from the drawing board to stand at the series of wide windows