Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

BANNED BOOK BINGO

Jack

H olly successfully avoids me all week. According to Noelle, she’s returned to her loft. So I have the cottage to myself and, frankly, it sucks. But I keep my beery word and resolve to wait. Luckily, I’m so busy working with Noelle and Farah to pull the banned book bingo event together that waiting is only incredibly difficult, not impossible.

On Friday, Judge MacIntosh denies Citizens Upholding Normal Traditions’ request for an injunction. This means the banned book bingo can go forward as planned. When Holly calls to let Noelle know, Noelle puts her on speakerphone so she can to deliver the good news to the whole committee. The sound of her voice breaks my resolve and I move toward the phone to say—I don’t know what. Something.

But then Vicky rushes in from the parking lot with a worried expression.

“What’s wrong?” Noelle asks.

“I was waiting for Ivy to pull in so I could help her carry in the snowball hydrangeas for the flower arrangements. James Woodlock just showed up with some of his people. They’re setting up a tent in the parking lot. I heard them say that the order Holly got last week has expired, so by the time she finds out about the tent, court will be closed until Monday. They’re going to throw snowballs at the kids coming in for bingo. Isn’t that awful?” She’s aghast.

Holly’s voice crackles through the speakerphone. “I don’t think pelting children with snowballs is even remotely upholding normal traditions,” she says dryly. “But, since we know what they’re up to, I’ll draft the order now. Mrs. Swanson, I’ll need to bring over an affidavit for you to sign, basically swearing out what you overheard. Will you do that?”

Vicky’s chin trembles, but she nods. “Yes,” she says in a clear voice.

I know she still feels some responsibility for Woodlock showing up in town, but she’s going all out to redeem herself. She even meets Farah for tea every afternoon to talk about a different banned book.

“Great. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“What if you can’t get the order to the judge before court closes for the weekend?” Vicky frets.

“I know how to get ahold of him after hours,” Holly assures her.

I help Farah wrap books for prizes while Ivy and Vicky decorate the tables. Noelle and Merry set up the hot coffee station. We all ignore the hammering we can clearly hear ringing out in the parking lot.

When Holly calls to let Vicky know she’s on her way, I wander outside to wait for her. Yes, I want to steal a minute or two alone with her. But mainly, I don’t want Woodlock to hassle her. She may not want my protection, but she has it.

The afternoon has grown downright cold. The wind cuts through my heavy jacket, chilling me to the bone. I stamp my feet to warm them up and breathe into my bare hands. Finally, I see Holly’s car pulling into the closest open spot and I walk out to meet her.

A guy with a long mane of brown hair elbows Woodlock, who turns to track me as I cross the lot. He picks up a bullhorn from a folding table and holds it up to his mouth.

“The depraved son of a depraved woman,” he crows, walking directly toward me.

Holly locks eyes with me for an instant that feels like an hour. Then she backs away, behind her car. I continue to walk. I don’t look at Woodcock or acknowledge that I’ve heard him.

“A broken family with broken values. That’s the Bell legacy. That’s what Jackie Samuel will be remembered for.”

His taunts don’t get to me the way they did at Mom’s funeral. For one thing, I’m not out of my mind with grief. For another, James Woodlock needs some new material, these insults are all recycled from the last time he confronted me. And maybe most importantly, I think Holly’s recording this interaction. The possibility that she is makes it easier to unclench my jaw, let my hands hang loose at my sides, and keep my steps measured and steady as I walk past him.

I reach Holly’s car, still ignoring Woodlock’s shouts.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi.” She lowers her phone.

“Thought I’d walk you in.”

“I’d like that.” She gives me a smile.

We walk inside in silence. But I already have that smile tucked in my pocket.

Holly

M y legs finally stop shaking while I’m going over the affidavit with Vicky. When I heard James Woodlock screaming at Jack, it triggered a huge flight response in my body. Standing my ground, even behind the car, and filming the confrontation took all my resolve. I wanted nothing more than to flee. My hands trembled so badly I wasn’t sure the video would be usable. But watching Jack maintain his composure, seeing him choose peace over pride, steadied something in me, too.

The last time I checked, the video I uploaded to social media with the hashtags #jackiesamuelson #notnormal #banbookbans had gone viral. I made sure to tag Sam Bell, the Jackie Samuel Companies, the Board of Directors, and, for good measure, Tabitha Waterson and the County District Attorney’s Office. Granted, a lot of the shares seemed to be young women focusing on how hot Jack is. I mean, they aren’t wrong, and a share’s a share.

I’m hopeful this clip will show how much Jack’s grown. Maybe it will help demonstrate that he has both the passion and the temperament to protect his mom’s legacy. If nothing else, it’s a start.

I’m about to slip my phone back into my pocket when it rings. The display shows the call is coming from the DA’s office. I steel myself for more of Anderson’s steaming hot reindeer poop and answer the call.

“H. Evelyn Jolly.”

“Holly, it’s Tabitha.”

I’ll take Tabitha over Anderson any day. According to Chantal, Tabitha dumped him the Monday after the 5K and had his office moved to the smallest, windowless room right near the break room. All he does is complain about people microwaving popcorn and roam the halls looking forlorn.

“Hi, Tabitha. This isn’t a great time I’m in a bit of a rush. I need to get an emergency order over to Judge MacIntosh before the end of the day.”

“Doubt you’ll need it.”

“Oh?”

“I saw your video.”

I pause. It’s possible the video could be helpful in demonstrating Woodlock and Clean Books, Healthy Mind plans to harass the crowd the way he harassed Jack. But the DA wouldn’t ask for the order on the library’s behalf. Would she?

She goes on. “I forwarded it to Judge MacIntosh and he had the courthouse tech people enhance it. That’s clearly Anders in the background coaching the protesters. The enhanced video shows him telling them to throw icy hard snowballs at children and appears to show him passing out twenties to the protesters. I assume that’s why you tagged me?”

Uh, no. I don’t have the faintest idea what she’s talking about. Not even a ghost of a hint of an idea. But it sounds like something Anderson would do. And leave it to him to be bold enough to do it out in the open, where anyone could have seen him. It’s true what they say about criminals: they aren’t very smart.

“Yes, exactly,” I say.

She exhales. “Thanks for sending it along. His termination is going to be messy, no doubt. But knowing Anders, he’ll land on his feet.” She doesn’t sound happy about this.

“Unfortunately, that’s probably true,” I commiserate.

“At least he’ll be out of my hair—and yours.”

“And what about James Woodlock and his people?”

“Judge MacIntosh called the county police personally. They’ll oversee the removal of the tent and will escort Clean Books, Healthy Minds out of town before nightfall.”

“Okay, then.”

“Anything else?”

“I think we’ve got it covered. But I hope we’ll see you tomorrow at the event.” I surprise myself by extending this olive branch.

Tabitha’s acceptance is the most Tabitha thing ever. “Of course, the district attorney’s office is a firm supporter of the First Amendment right to disseminate and receive information, including that contained in books.”

“Of course,” I say. Then end the call fast before I laugh at her nerve.

I turn around to see Jack watching me. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“So, my work here is done.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

I nod. There’s a lot I want to say. Too much. But this isn’t the time. Or the place.