14. Jillian

14

JILLIAN

J illian climbed the steps of the Trinity Falls Community Center the next morning, with Josie in tow.

The sky was bright and clear, but still cold enough that their breath puffed out in front of them.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Josie asked.

“I think so,” Jillian told her. “Why?”

“Did they carry the books up all the steps already?” Josie asked.

“I guess they did,” Jillian said, uncertain why Josie would be worried about that.

When they reached the top, she opened the door, releasing a burst of warmth.

“Oh, it feels good in here,” she said, ushering Josie in and closing the door behind her.

She turned back to take in the large, bright space and immediately understood why Josie had asked about the books .

Jillian had expected to find a table with two or three boxes of books on it, and a couple of ladies sipping coffee and gossiping as they sorted them.

Instead, they were in a massive space with a high ceiling and huge windows on both side walls with views over the community college fields on one side and the church on the other. A dozen or so folding tables had been set up in the light-filled space, and each had a huge stack of book boxes beside it. Volunteers chatted happily while pouring themselves coffees from an urn that was set up on one end of the big space.

“Welcome, welcome,” Brad’s mom called out to them as she hurried over, flinging her arms out for a hug.

“Grandma,” Josie said happily, letting herself be swept up into a big embrace.

“I can’t wait to introduce you two to everyone,” Annabelle said when Josie stepped back. “I get to tell them my granddaughter is volunteering this year. And Jillian, we are truly grateful for your help. It’s so kind of you to come here and roll up your sleeves.”

She wrapped an arm around Jillian and gave her a big smile and a little squeeze.

It would be so nice to be part of this family.

But that was just wishful thinking, and she knew it.

“It’s my pleasure,” Jillian told her honestly. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen so many books outside of a library.”

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Annabelle said. “You know, a lot of people think farmers are too busy to read, but the winters are cold here, and there’s less to do. We all look forward to this sale so we can donate last year’s crop of books and bring home lots of new ones.”

Jillian smiled at the idea of a whole community spending its winters curled up with a book. It sounded like her idea of heaven.

“You fit right in here, don’t you?” Annabelle murmured to her.

There was something in her voice, something that sounded like they shared a secret. Jillian turned to her, but they had already arrived at one of the tables, where a woman was already sifting through the first box of books.

“Amanda,” Annabelle said. “This is Jillian, and my granddaughter, Josie. They’ve come to volunteer today.”

“That’s wonderful,” Amanda said brightly.

When she looked up, Jillian recognized her as the pretty, blonde woman Brad had gone to lunch with the other day. She looked absolutely stunning in what must have been a very expensive, snow-white sweater with her hair pulled up in a ponytail, showing off a pair of crystal snowflake earrings.

“Hi,” Jillian said, wishing she could melt into the ground.

“Josie and Jillian,” Amanda said. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you in person. I don’t know which of you Brad talks about more.”

“You know my dad?” Josie asked suspiciously.

“I recently bought a building in town,” Amanda said, putting down the book she had been holding when they walked up. “He’s thinking of renting the top floors for his architecture practice, so we had a bite to eat the other day while we talked about it. ”

So that was why they had been eating lunch together. Jillian felt guilty for how relieved she felt. Then she felt another pang of guilt, remembering that Lucy had said Amanda had always had a crush on Brad back in high school. Maybe she still did.

I have no claim on him.

But when she thought back to last night, and the way he had looked at her, holding her face in his hand so gently, like he thought she might break…

“Hi there,” another lady said, moving to the space beside Amanda. “I’m Susan Grentz.”

Jillian introduced herself and Josie to the older woman.

“I’m Annabelle Williams’s granddaughter,” Josie added.

“Is that so?” Susan asked with a smile. “Well, I think your grandmother is a very special person.”

“May I have your attention?” Annabelle said crisply as she moved to the front of the room. She wasn’t shouting, but the murmur of chatter in the room went silent instantly.

“First of all,” she said. “I want to thank each and every one of you for being here today. The Winter Wonderland community book sale couldn’t happen without your help.”

There were murmurs and smiles. Jillian could tell that everyone was glad to feel a part of something special.

“I’m going to go over some basics on what we’re doing today,” Annabelle went on. “This should help out with most of the sorting you’re doing. But if you have a question, don’t be shy. I’ll be right up front to help. ”

As Annabelle went over the basics of examining the books for condition and assessing them for genre, Jillian found herself looking around at the women surrounding her.

There were older women, younger women, some dressed beautifully, like Amanda, others in worn clothing, or denim and plaid that looked like they were planning to go right to work on the farm when they were finished here. But what they all had in common was a happy, relaxed attitude—as if coming together for the good of the town gave every one of them joy.

“Are you okay, dear?” the lady named Susan asked her when Annabelle finished speaking.

“Oh, yes,” Jillian said, shaking off her sense of wonder. “It’s just… it’s so nice here.”

“It is nice here,” Susan agreed, glancing around with a faint smile. “I guess I don’t stop to appreciate it enough, but this community is so strong. We’ve been through a lot together.”

Jillian wondered what she meant, and it must have shown on her face.

“I mean over the years we’ve seen droughts and floods,” Susan said gently. “We’ve seen recessions and fires and everyday tragedies too—like when I lost my husband. But we always pull together like this.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Jillian told her.

“It was a long time ago,” Susan said gently. “And I have plenty around here to keep me busy.”

“You had more than we ever suspected,” Amanda said, with a smile and a wink for Susan.

“What does that mean?” Jillian asked, intrigued .

“Our Mrs. Grentz was a teacher at the elementary school for years,” Amanda said. “And that whole time, none of us knew that she was secretly writing mystery novels.”

“Oh, you make it sound so interesting,” Susan said, waving the other woman’s remarks away.

“It was interesting,” Amanda said. “And it took two of our own little girls to finally solve the real-life mystery of who V.C. Fountain was.”

“Two big girls,” Josie piped up. “Maddy and Emily are teenagers.”

“Two big girls,” Amanda amended. “But they were only twelve when they cracked the case.”

“Wait. V.C. Fountain?” Jillian echoed. “You’re V.C. Fountain?”

Susan nodded, looking a little embarrassed.

“You wrote The Killer and the Cowboy ?” Jillian asked. “And Death and the Doctor ?”

“ Murder and the Mayor, too,” Amanda put in. “That’s the new one.”

“That’s incredible,” Jillian said. “Those books are so good. And you were teaching at the same time?”

“Not everyone goes about a writing career in a conventional way,” Susan said modestly. “You don’t have to be young or live in a New York City apartment. In fact, I think living out in the real world helped me to have more to say in my writing.”

“I just don’t know how you found the time,” Amanda said, shaking her head.

“I mostly wrote during my summer and winter breaks,” Susan said, shrugging .

Josie asked politely how Susan came up with her ideas, and while the unassuming author engaged the little girl in a conversation, Jillian found herself feeling more relaxed and hopeful than she had in a long time.