Page 35 of Check You Out

I stare at the object in her hand.

Is that a crab mallet?

I’m sitting in the corner by the door that leads to the rest of the library. Charlotte is to my right. The Lisas are perched to my left, holding hands, and Nicole is lounging in the chair just beyond them. Sarah is sitting on the other side of the circle, chatting with Johnny and his wife.

“Is it true that the library is going to close?” one of the members asks with a determined look on her face. The rest of the group quiets down to a hush. All eyes shift to Charlotte. “I heard it from Danielle, who heard it from Tracy, and she was at the emergency meeting last week.”

Charlotte nods. “Yes.” She swallows. “The library is slated to close when the new fiscal year starts on July first.” The room erupts in a cacophony of disapproving shouts and hollers.

I shiver in my chair. Some of the loudest women are the oldest of the bunch. One lady who I was introduced to the other day, Karen, shouts, “How dare they! How fucking dare they!”

My gaze whips over to Charlotte for some sort of comfort, but she only leans back in her chair with that smile on her face. Nicole smirks and lets out a low chuckle. Lisa W. has thrown her head back, laughing. Lisa G. looks concerned about her safety. Johnny crosses his arms and looks pleased with himself.

Banging on her gavel again, she calls out, “Focus, folks, focus!” The uproar dies down to discontented muttering.

She continues, “The other piece of news is that we’re doing something about it.”

Nicole sits up in her chair. “And we need your help.”

“That we do,” Charlotte says, rounding up the crowd. “To recount the facts, the Douglass County executive has submitted a proposal to cut the county library’s budget.” She glances at the gathered group.

The room erupts in curses and shouts again. I grip the edges of my chair and brace against the outrage.

“How dare that executive! I hate him!” Karen screams.

“Where am I going to get my books?” another woman cries. “I’m on retirement and don’t have the budget to buy books.”

“But what about story time?”

“The Homework Crew! Where are we going to have The Homework Crew? My grandkids love it.”

“Why would they close this library? It’s such a great library.”

A masculine laugh from the hallway sends a shudder down my spine, and I crane my neck trying to get a good view of the person. I only see the faint outline of the back of a man in the cracked doorway. Even with my limited view, I can tell that the man’s build is similar to mine, and he’s wearing a creaseless suit.

I don’t need to see his face to know it’s my father.

What the fuck is Dan doing here? I haven’t told him specific details of my life, like where I live or where I work. If he showed up here, could it be purely a coincidence? He’s probably just meeting with a client here. Or maybe he’s doing some legal research that’s specific to this library. Or maybe there’s another talk going on here that he’s interested in? I did see a sign for a talk with a WWII vet. Dan does like history. His being here is entirely a coincidence. Right? Right?

I require at least five business days warning before meeting with my father. In days leading up the event, I plan my strategy. I plot out which breathing exercises I’m going to use. I research the menu to figure out what drink I’m going to have at the bar and what food I’m going to eat.

My heart thunders in my ribcage, and that buzzing sound I know all too well distorts my hearing. A tremble that starts in my chest flows to my hands, and I have to sit on them to keep from shaking visibly.

They’re going to see me freak out, I think to myself They’re going to laugh at me. Charlotte will be mortified and will never talk to me again.

I stare at the floor; the sound of Charlotte’s voice being muffled by the distortion of this budding panic attack. I suck in a breath, trying to ground myself.

Everyone here is watching me. They see me. They see how much of a mess I am. Primordial ooze is more put together than me.

I glance back at the man. I have to get out of here, out of their watchful eyes, but if I walk out those doors, then I’ll walk right into him. I’m not prepared. I’m not prepared. I’m not prepared!

Summoning strength in my body, I rise and mutter a quick, “Excuse me,” and stride out the doors.

Confidence, Aidan, confidence.

The air shifts as I leave the meeting room, setting a shudder rocking through my body. My footfalls change as I step from the carpet to the marble floor. My gaze is intent on the back of my father. He turns at my footsteps. Of course he would turn. He’s always looking to his back to see what’s coming up behind.

But the man who turns around is not my father.