Turning Pages

Chapter Twenty

TWENTY 

The memorial service was everything I had hoped and more. We played Dad's favorite games, we looked through scrapbooks, and we watched home videos. We spent an entire evening just thinking about our dad. We ate his favorite dinner-spaghetti and meatballs-and we each wrote him a letter. Then we watched his favorite movie, Quigley Down Under. 

I thought the kids might get upset talking about Dad, but they jumped right in and shared their memories of him. It was a great way to break in the new house, and as we said good night, we had a group hug and held each other for an extra-long time. I felt incredible-free, comforted, and full of hope. I'd lost the two places I cared about most, but I was surrounded by love, and I could take that anywhere I went. 

The next morning, I rapped on the door of Blake's new office. He didn't answer, which was odd-I knew he was in there. I raised my hand to knock again, but then heard his voice on the other side of the door. 

"Tara, that's not what I said, and definitely not what I meant. Please, can we talk about this?" 

I took a step backward, wondering what I'd just overheard. Blake sounded hurt and confused, but when he came out a few minutes later, he seemed normal. Well, almost normal. I did catch him zoning out a few times during the afternoon when he was supposed to be answering a question or, I don't know, being helpful in some way, and I had to repeat myself to get through to him. We didn't have time for this. We had boxes stacked all over the place filled with books to reshelf, and we had run into some logistical problems. I couldn't solve everything on my own, regardless of how organized everyone thought I was, and it would have been really nice to have my boss on target. 

"Blake, we need to figure out where we're putting this last row of children's books." 

"What?" He looked at me like I had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "Sorry, what did you need?" 

I sighed. "Listen. You're having a rough day, and I get that. But can you please, please try to focus for just one second?" 

He sank down on the stool behind the circulation desk and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Addie. I'm just . . . Yeah, you're right. I'm having a rough day." 

"Well, snap out of it or go home. You're no good to me this way." I hoped I could tease him out of whatever was bogging him down, but he clearly didn't catch the humor in my tone. 

"I'll snap out of it. What if you put that last row under the window, and set the rocking chair right next to it, on the left?" 

"That's exactly what I said to you not thirty seconds ago." 

"I knew I got the idea from somewhere." He stood up and smiled. "What if we take the rest of the afternoon off? You and Melanie have been working like crazy, and I'm practically useless, and we could come back in the morning and make up for lost time. What do you say?" 

Melanie walked up to the counter. "You're actually suggesting that we take time off? Do you have a fever or something?" 

"I just really need to go talk to Tara." 

"Ah." Melanie nodded. "Now it all becomes clear." 

She didn't know what I'd heard through the door and probably thought Blake just wanted to sneak off for a date. I'd fill her in later. 

"Okay," I said. "Go. Melanie and I will close up, and we'll see you here in the morning." 

"Thanks, Addie." He grabbed his helmet and was out the door. 

I hoped he'd be able to get things worked out with Tara, and I watched him closely when he came in the next morning. He seemed fine-actually, great-and I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't like seeing him unhappy.