Black Beans & Vice (19 page)

By the time Wednesday evening rolled around, the talk among
the library staff revolved around the prone piggy and Murphy's
newspaper article on animal rights activist, Katrina "Tia" Royale.

"Bro, she didn't act like someone whose parents were mega
rich," Scott commented to Francis. "When I think of tycoons'
daughters, I picture mafia princesses like Meadow Soprano or airhead socialites like Paris Hilton."

His twin shrugged as he blew up an orange balloon. "Yeah, it's
kinda cool that Tia isn't posing for the media or carrying around
little dogs with diamond collars," he said while tying the balloon's
stem into a knot. "Maybe, in order to be her own person, Tia
decided to put all her time and money into protecting animals.
From what I read in The Star, she could spend every day shopping
and still not put a dent in her trust fund, yet she doesn't act like a
spoiled brat."

Willow scowled and handed her boyfriend a yellow balloon.
"Why don't you save your breath for the balloons, Francis?"

"What? Did I say something wrong?" Francis reached out to
touch Willow's pale, blond hair, but she swatted his hand away.

"Some of us don't have trust funds or uber-rich parents," she
pointed out heatedly. "Some of us work at regular jobs and serve
our causes in our spare time without screaming at senior citizens
or making little kids cry!"

Scott passed Fern a roll of tape and a crepe paper streamer so
she could affix the decoration to the exit sign. Peering down at
Willow from the top of the small ladder, Fern said, "I haven't been
your roommate for long, but I'm impressed by how many hours
you volunteer at the animal shelter."

"I just love being there," Willow replied, pleased to receive recognition for her efforts. "Don't get me wrong, I love my work at
Quincy's Whimsies, but it's so rewarding to watch a family pick
out a dog or cat." Willa sighed happily. "Did you know that our
shelter doesn't euthanize? It's wonderful, but it also means our
cages are always full." She pointed at James, who was busy pouring chilled champagne into one of the punch bowls. "I keep trying
to persuade Mr. Henry to adopt a pet for Eliot. Every kid needs a
furry friend." She lowered her voice. "Especially an only child. It's
nice for them to have someone to talk to. Can't you just see Eliot
and a frisky little puppy rolling around in that big backyard of Mr.
Henry's?"

Fern smiled at Willow. "I'd like to volunteer at the shelter too,
but I'm afraid I'd end up filling our apartment with animals. How
do you keep from bringing them all home?"

"Easy-our landlord would toss us out on our butts!" Willow
laughed. "But maybe when our lease runs out in the fall we could
rent a small house instead? That way, we can at least provide foster care for some of the shelter animals until they find permanent
homes."

"I'd love that," Fern readily agreed. "And I'm one of those crazy
people who actually enjoys yard work, so you'll never have to cut
the grass."

As the two young women exchanged excited chatter, James
smiled at how rapidly they'd become friends. He finished arranging the plastic punch cups on a card table and then dropped a pile
of napkins in the center. Standing back, he examined his handiwork with a frown.

"Doesn't look too good," he murmured.

"It was a nice try, dear, but this calls for a woman's touch." Milla
gently pushed him aside. "Why don't you carry in the food from
my van and leave the decorating to me?" She patted him lovingly
on the back. "You need to keep your daddy away from the spiked
punch," she ordered, her eyes twinkling. "He's been grumbling all
day over having to be here and if he drinks too much on an empty
stomach, he's gonna ride that wheeled book cart home before the
party even gets started!"

Laughing, James went out to Milla's lavender van and carried
in trays of hors d'oeuvres, a platter of ham biscuits, and a stunning
cake made to resemble a stack of library books. Easing the cake
carefully onto a side table, James paused in order to admire Milla's
artistry. The frosted book on the top was entitled, Quincy's Gap
Loves Mrs. Waxman. Below that line was a chocolate fudge subtitle
listing the years she'd worked at the library. In place of the author's
name were the words, From Your Grateful Patrons. James inhaled
the delectable scents of chocolate and coffee and sighed.

"Chocolate mocha cake with coffee icing. It's Mrs. Waxman's
favorite," Milla told him as he admired the confection. "Why don't
you take a picture of the food before the festivities start? Fern told
me she'd like to assemble a scrapbook of the party for our retiree."
She glanced over at James' newest employee. "She's a lovely girl.
You know how to pick 'em, honey." Milla's mouth crinkled into a
smile. "I do believe she's sweet on our Scott, too. How do you feel
about inter-office love affairs?"

James rubbed his chin. "Their shifts don't overlap much, so I'm
not worried about things getting awkward if they start dating and
then break up. What perplexes me is Scott's reluctance to ask the
young lady out." He lowered his voice. "You see, he's become close to someone via the computer and feels that he can't pursue a relationship with Fern until he meets this other girl in the flesh."

Milla put her hands over her chest. "So they need to see if the
sparks will really fly-how exciting! Where and when is this faceto-face going to happen?"

"It's hard to say," James removed the plastic wrap from a platter
of sliced strawberries and baked brie. "She canceled their original
meeting time at the last minute, so Scott is now filled with doubts.
Poor kid."

Clucking her tongue disapprovingly, Milla said, "Computer
dating sounds awful sticky to me. Call me old fashioned, but I
don't think it's wise to fall in love with a person when you can't
look into their eyes or listen to the sound of their laughter." She
placed a silver ladle next to the punch bowl. "Folks just don't come
off the same in black and white. You can make yourself into anybody you want by typing a few words, but then someone might
fall in love with a `you' who doesn't really exist."

"It's how our world works now, Milla. People do most of their
communication through the computer."

Puckering her lips, Milla waved her hand around the room. "A
machine will never be able to replace this."

James had been so busy placing the food trays where Milla
wanted that he hadn't taken notice of the library's transformation.
Bright balloons and paper streamers hung from the ceiling and
floral cloths covered the study tables in the main room. Fern and
Willow were setting small vases filled with Gerbera daises in the
center of each table, while Scott laid out a guest book for the party
goers to sign and Francis programmed one of the computers to play three hours' worth of smooth jazz and then strummed an air
guitar to amuse Willow.

Several guests had shown up early intending to lend a hand.
One placed garbage cans in strategic positions, another wheeled
the cart of sale books in from the lobby, and a third helped Jackson lift his latest painting, covered by a white cloth, onto an easel
on the counter of the Information Desk.

As the sound of saxophones, trumpets, and clarinets floated
through the room, the supper club members began to trickle in as
though lured from outside by the enticing strains of music.

Gillian and Bennett entered first and James was pleased to note
that they were holding hands. Lucy was the next to arrive. James
had told her to bring Sullie along and she'd been delighted by the
suggestion. Lucy introduced her handsome boyfriend to the other
guests as a fellow deputy, but her face, glowing with happiness,
betrayed her deeper feelings. Sullie kept glancing at her from the
corner of his eye and occasionally he'd whisper something into her
ear, causing her to laugh or blush with pleasure. James had never
seen Lucy look so beautiful.

When Lindy appeared, running ten minutes late, she sped right
over to James and clutched his arm as if he could save her from
slipping through a thin patch of ice. "Look out, James, she's here!
The Dragon Lady of Mexico! Is there anyone you can find to entertain Luis' mama for five minutes?"

"Only five minutes?" James teased.

Lindy nodded. "That's all it'll take for me to chug down three
cups of champagne punch. I don't want her to see me drinking or
that'll be yet another strike against me. It's bad enough that I'm a
'half-blood'.'

James frowned. "She called you that?" He watched as Luis and a
small, plump woman with wiry black hair and walnut-brown eyes
entered the room, surveying the surroundings with a curled lip as
though she was standing in a landfill and not in James' beloved
library. Luis walked with rounded shoulders, darting apologetic
glances in Lindy's direction as his mother pulled on his sleeve,
forcing him to bend to her height so she might more easily release
a stream of complaints (all in Spanish, of course) into his left ear.

At that moment, Luigi joined the party. Mrs. Waxman had
spent countless hours giving the restaurateur advice on the education of his six children and he had become one of her adoring
fans. He'd even offered to cater the event, but Milla and Willow
wouldn't hear of it.

"PROFESSOR HENRY!" He shouted from across the room.
"THE LIBRARY-CHE BELLO!"

Waving Luigi closer, James offered him a glass of punch. The
restaurateur accepted the beverage with a booming "GRAZIE" and
then left James to mingle with the older widows and divorcees. By
the time the other guests arrived, along with Mrs. Waxman and
her closest family members, Luigi had made his way to the side of
Luis' mother.

"ALMA? SUCH A LOVELY NAME! YOU ARE THIRSTY?
COME! LUIGI WILL GET YOU A DRINK!"

James held his breath, expecting Alma to reject Luigi's vociferous offer, but to his surprise, she seemed to forget all about her son
and, smiling, took Luigi's proffered arm. Luis stared after them in
amazement.

The noise level escalated as Mrs. Waxman made her rounds.
James felt a pang of sadness as he watched his former middle school teacher and coworker accept handshakes and warm embraces from everyone in the room.

"I still don't think I should be here," Fern whispered to James.
"It doesn't feel right."

"Mrs. Waxman specifically asked that you attend," James reminded her. "And I'm thrilled that you're here. After all, you're
part of our team now and you're capturing the event on film." He
pointed at her camera. "Whenever Mrs. Waxman misses us, she'll
only need to open the scrapbook you're creating in order to feel
like she's with her friends in Quincy's Gap. See? You're an asset already."

"Your father's painting will help her remember too. I can't wait
to see it." Fern glanced around the room. "Have you ever thought
of using all that great wall space to display the work of local artists?"

James followed her gaze. The three walls surrounding the tech
corner were well lit, yet rather bare. A few posters featuring celebrities holding their favorite books were the only adornment.

"That's a terrific idea, Fern. Maybe my father would let me
hang his next series before the paintings are shipped off to D.C."

As Fern navigated the room snapping candids, Scott acted as
her assistant. He carried her punch glass, replenished her empty
dinner plate, and directed the guests to stand this way and that so
Fern could take their photographs.

The noise level rose as the punch bowls and platters of food
grew empty. Francis had to turn up the music more than once in
order for the guests to be able to hear the songs over Luigi's thunderous chatter.

Finally, it was time for Mrs. Waxman to cut the cake. She accepted a knife from Milla and then positioned herself behind the
cake, dabbing under her glasses with a tissue. "Please don't force
me to make a speech," she sniffed. "I know I've talked most of
your ears off between my tenure as teacher and librarian, but there
aren't enough words in the English language to express how grateful I am to have been a member of this wonderful community. To
say that I will miss you all is the greatest understatement of my
life. Thank you so much."

She slid the knife into the cake to a round of raucous applause.
Afterward, she personally distributed a generous wedge to everyone in the room. Even Alma's stony expression softened when
Mrs. Waxman welcomed her to town and praised Luis for being
the most progressive and talented principal she'd ever known.

"You are too kind," Alma responded, and then turned to chat
with Luigi once again.

Once all the guests had eaten their cake (including each and
every one of the supper club members-this was one sugary treat
they weren't going to pass up), Scott and Francis directed every-
one's attention to the Information Desk. Standing on either side
of the shrouded easel, their boyish faces flushed with anticipation,
the twins waited for James to say a few words about Mrs. Waxman's farewell gift.