Part 12 (1/2)
He'd accepted that she was ”the one”. He'd been around the block enough times to leave ruts in theasphalt, and he had no doubts that these emotions he felt when he was with her were the real thing.But...there was a distinct chance he'd lose it all-and her-when she found out the truth.It wasn't a picture he liked looking at.Jack closed his mental folder and slammed the drawer shut on the filing cabinet.Therehad to be a way. And dammit, he'd find it. Daphne was too important to him now for it to be otherwise.
With that resolve uppermost in his mind, Jack headed out for the studio, determined to find a solution-not only for the sake of his relations.h.i.+p with Daphne, but for his own future.He didn't want to be Big John anymore.Big John would have to die.* * * * *Daphne was hoa.r.s.e.Mondays were ”Mom's Hour” in the Children's section of the library, and featured a guest storyteller surrounded by what seemed like hordes of colorful munchkins. All talking at once. As were their weary moms, who seized the opportunity to plunk Junior down on his or her b.u.t.t in a circle with twenty other ”Juniors” in front of an amazingly loud-voiced volunteer. The storyteller held the kids in thrall for anywhere up to an hour, and the moms could kick back and breathe a bit, without having to do much more than detach one kid's hands from another's hair, or make frequent potty trips to the little bathroom. It was a very popular feature, and usually afforded Daphne a great deal of satisfaction, since she'd inaugurated the program in the first place.
But today was one of those days when every child seemed to have its volume control cranked up to ”
high”, and she'd been shouting over the cacophony for so darn long her throat ached.
Fortunately, it was also the day that included not only the a.s.sistant Librarian, but also two more
volunteers. A bunch of kids in the right mood could wreak more havoc in a library than two divisions of
armored marines.
As a lull fell over the building, and the storyteller droned soothingly to her motley audience, Daphne felt safe enough to take a quick break.
”I'm gonna go grab a coffee, Shel...want anything?”a.s.sistant Librarian Sh.e.l.ly Miles glanced up with a grimace. ”Vodka and tonic? Double?”Daphne grinned. ”Too early.”Sh.e.l.ly grinned back. ”It's gotta be five o'clock somewhere in the world.””I know what you mean.”The other woman sighed. ”I'll pa.s.s, honey, thanks. Any more coffee and you'll have to peel me off the ceiling along with the kids. I'm starting to think there must be caffeine in that apple juice they bring withthem. They're cranked today, for sure.”
Daphne nodded. ”Yeah. You're right. I'll be ten minutes at most, okay?”Sh.e.l.ly waved her off. ”Go...relax. Breathe. Strangle a munchkin. Make it two...one for me.” She gazedat the returns cart, which now tilted at a drunken angle and had burped books all over the floor. ”Thelollipop league struck again.”
Daphne smothered a laugh and slunk out the side entrance, heading for her favorite bookstore less than a block away. They served great coffee, and also offered great deals on older t.i.tles. Daphne was a regular shopper, drinker, and browser.
The soothing beverage eased her throat, the quiet of the store calmed her thoughts, and for the first time
that morning she felt free enough to allow the warmth that was Jack to creep into her mind.
Thinking about him while trying to work had resulted in some appallingly awful mis-filings, a couple of lost returns and a patron who couldn't understand why the book he'd put on reserve for his research into the mating habits of the Canadian goose had suddenly turned into an erotic romance.
Daphne shook her head to clear it of all but those thoughts she wanted to enjoy, and strolled the aisles.
Jack. Always Jack. He was so comfortably settled into her brain she had a hard time recalling her life
before he arrived. It was like she'd known him forever, had reserved a place in her heart for him, andhad just been waiting for him to come along and fill it.He had. He'd filled a few other places with perfect precision, too.She felt a blush heating her cheeks, and sternly told herself to focus on the books,not the s.e.x.Idly scanning the bargain table, a large volume tucked beneath caught her eye, and she balanced her coffee carefully as she knelt down to take a closer look.
”The Best Movies Ever Made.” It was huge, with a glossy cover featuring a cla.s.sic movie-poster graphic that reminded her of the film noir ads from the nineteen-thirties. She pulled it out with difficulty and rested it on an empty stand.
Ooooh. It was, in a word, gorgeous.
Carefully turning the pages, Daphne lost herself in the beautiful color stills from some of the finest movies ever made. The darn thing lived up to its t.i.tle. She smiled at a black-and-white full size photo of Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart sharing ”that” look.Casablanca , of course.
There was plenty of narrative, quotes from some of the best directors, from D.W. Griffith to Martin Scorsese, and a mammoth amount of information about dozens of fabulous films.
It was the ”coffee table” book to end all coffee table books for movie fans, and Daphne knew just the coffee table it belonged on.
Jack's.
Nervously she opened the flyleaf and checked the price.Okay. Not cheap . But marked down... Not surprising, really, since this was a book for celluloid aficionados, not someone looking to fill an empty s.p.a.ce in their decorating scheme. A much cheaper volume on Renoir or Monet would serve that purpose.
This one was a treasure trove of information, photography and movie lore, and Daphne was convinced after only a few pages that Jack would love it. He was so knowledgeable about film, especially the cla.s.sics, that this would only enhance his collection.
She had a vision of them snuggled in front of his couch on the floor, turning the pages and discussing the movies featured in the book.
It was an image that brought a lump to her throat. It was one from a future she so hoped would come to pa.s.s. They'd gotten hot and heavy with each other, become s.e.xually involved so quickly, and then...in a backwards reversal of everything she'd a.s.sumed was right, they'd gotten to know each other.
And how she loved what she'd found.
Closing the book, she hefted it under her arm, grabbed her coffee with the other hand, and headed for the checkout aisle. This book was a sign. An omen. She'd buy it, give it to Jack and flat out tell him how she felt.
The h.e.l.l with the rules on this sort of thing. She couldn't live another day without releasing a lot of emotional stuff, whether he wanted to hear it or not. It was time.
Time to say a few words that could make or break her future. Not three little words, but four. ”I love you,Jack.”
She couldn't wait.
Of course the library had other ideas.
As soon as she got back and tucked her purchase safely into a desk drawer, her phone started ringing. And it rang, continually, for much of the rest of the day. Annoyingly demanding calls, pleasantly soliciting calls, calls from callers Daphne could willingly have shot point blank at the end of the afternoon.
When the final call came in, it was truly the last straw.”Good afternoon, Miss Littlewood, I'm sorry to bother you...”Why? Everybody else and their brother has today...”I was in this morning for Mom's Hour, and just now I found...”What? A book? Your kid stole a book? Ripped off a first edition? Used Webster's as a teething ring?
What?”Spots.”Daphne blinked. ”Spots?””Yep. Spots. All over Jessica.””Uh...” Daphne's brain struggled.”It's been confirmed by our pediatrician. It's chicken pox.””Oh lord.” Daphne rested her forehead on her hand and closed her eyes.”I'm awfully sorry. But I thought you should know. The children who were with Jessica this morning- they've all been exposed...”