“Yes. Leave it to a librarian to point out the alliteration in my life’s tragedies.”
They talked of everything but the thefts, about his children and Sadie’s niece. Nick asked where she liked to go to hear music, and she rattled off her favorites, relishing the shock on his face when she mentioned CBGB. Then the waitress came with the check, and there was the pulling out of wallets and Nick saying that he’d cover it and figuring out the tip.
A giant wave of uncertainty washed over Sadie. What next? What if she’d said too much and made a fool of herself? She sat frozen, unsure. She looked out the window, down at the table, anywhere but at Nick’s face. She had no confidence anymore, and wasn’t sure what to do or say.
Outside on the street, they parted with a hug, like two friends. Perhaps she was overthinking all this and they were just colleagues. Or maybe he still considered her a suspect. It was all too draining.
Which was why the next day she found herself in the stacks, waiting until there were no pages around, to reread some of the Spinster book. Fortify herself with its timelessness.
“Sadie?”
Nick’s voice rang out. She slid the book into her tote bag and stepped outside the cage, locking the door behind her.
“Yes? What are you doing down here?”
“Claude said you were here. I came to find you.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Um, did you just put a book in your bag?”
“A book?”
The rules for anyone working in the stacks were clear. No placing books from the stacks into outside containers or bags. They were supposed to stay in plain sight at all times.
“What’s inside your tote bag?”
She took a deep breath. This was awful. She hadn’t meant to take the book, just gotten distracted when she’d heard his voice and tucked it away, out of sight.
She pulled it out and handed it to him, looking off to the side as she did.
He read the title out loud. “Surviving Spinsterhood: The Joys of Living Alone. Oh.”
She squirmed as the words hung in the air. It might as well have been a pair of her underwear, out there for everyone to see. All because she was stupid enough to think that an old book could fix what was wrong with her life.
“I accidentally put it inside my bag. So silly. I’ll put it back.”
She grabbed the book from him and turned back to the cage, fumbling with the lock.
Maybe he had been watching her, following her. Maybe this whole charade was just a way to catch her in the act.
And she’d fallen right into it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
New York City, 1914
Laura lifted her head up to the late March sun as she walked through Bryant Park on the way home from class, taking in the tantalizing hint of spring through the bare branches of the trees. Two more months and she’d be done. The time had gone by so quickly.
“Laura.”
She turned to see Amelia seated on one of the benches, a book in her lap. Today, her usual uniform had been replaced with a blue plaid tunic and a brown velvet skirt that fell softly over her long legs. Amelia rose and greeted her with a light kiss on the cheek. The warmth of her lips on Laura’s cheek lingered after she pulled away, smiling.
Laura instinctively looked up at the imposing facade of the library, as if Jack might be in one of the windows, looking down. “What are you doing here?” Together, they walked along the promenade toward Fifth Avenue.
“I haven’t seen you in a while. I’m feeling quite bereft, not having my cub reporter by my side.”
Ever since the morning after the protest, Laura had meant to stop by Amelia’s—she’d been downtown several times to finish up details on her thesis—but hadn’t been able to. She didn’t want to see Jessie lounging in the parlor, or hear her banging around in the kitchen as she and Amelia tried to talk. So instead, she’d avoided the street altogether. Besides, there was so much to do.
“It’s been busy, at school. But really, what brings you to the library?”
“I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d linger, in case you came by. And you did.”
Amelia had come for her. Laura didn’t know how to answer. “What are you reading?”
Amelia held up her book. “The Awakening, one of my favorites.”
“You were reading that book the first time I ever saw you, at Vassar.” Laura blushed at having shared such a vivid detail.
“Always good to return to the favorites, I say.” Amelia paused. “Everyone at the club has been asking about you. It’s been three weeks.”
She’d kept count. Laura’s stomach flipped.
“Did you hear about what happened to Frank Tannenbaum?”
According to the papers, Mr. Tannenbaum had been one of 190 men arrested the night of the protest. “I did, it’s terrible.”
“That’s one of the reasons I wanted to speak with you.”
Laura had hoped Amelia had come by because she missed her. Obviously not.
“The patrons of Mabel Dodge’s salon arranged a fund to bail the protestors out, but we just learned today that Frank’s sentence is a year.”
“A year? That’s ridiculous.” They turned right just before Fifth Avenue, heading toward the front entrance.
“I know. We’re asking for everyone’s help to get the word out about this injustice, about how the protest was squashed.”
So that was why she’d come. “I’m not a real reporter. It’s all just for practice. The Blotto, remember?
“You’ll be one soon enough, and maybe there’s something you can do now.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, talk to your professors, something like that. Maybe they have colleagues at the papers who can take up the cause.”
“Reporters aren’t supposed to take up causes. Besides, I can barely catch my breath these days, I’m hanging on by a thread.” Laura knew she was being unnecessarily obstinate. She was a terrible person, awful.
Amelia came to a stop beside one of the lions and looked at her curiously. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong? Between us? Was it something I did or said?”
“No, of course not.” Laura shouldn’t behave this way with her friend, pushing her away. She tried to explain. “I’ll pass on the information about Frank to the other students, and mention it to my professor. I’m sure someone will jump at the chance to cover it.”
“I appreciate it.”