“Aw, geez.” Tuck exhaled loudly. “I’m too old to figure out how to handle all this stuff.”
Liddy laughed. “No, you’re not. You just haven’t had to deal with a little girl’s feelings in a long time. Look, I understand it’s tough . . .”
“Tough? That kid cried all the way back to the island. I couldn’t take it, Liddy. I didn’t know what to do.”
“There was nothing you could have done. She thinks she’s lost something, and she just had to cry it out.”
“So what do I do?”
“I’ll talk to Grace. Maybe she could talk to JoJo. If nothing else, Grace needs to know. I just spoke with Maggie. I should have brought it up then.” But there were other pressing things to discuss, she could have added, but somehow she didn’t think Tuck would want to hear about Jim’s declaration of love.
“I’d appreciate that. Maybe Grace’ll know what to say.” His voice faded away for a moment.
“Tuck, I think there’s a bad connection.”
“ . . . happens out here on the water and . . .” He faded out again.
“Why don’t you call me later?”
“Why don’t I stop by?” She heard that loud and clear.
“I close the shop at nine.”
“I’ll be at your place at nine-oh-one.”
Liddy smiled and dropped her phone into her bag, and headed into the shop. She noticed the tall, lanky figure standing at the counter, watching Rosalita make her way into the North Carolina waters.
“Hey, Dylan.” She smiled. “I’m glad to see you.” She was surprised by how much she’d missed him around the shop.
“Hi, Miz Bryant.” Dylan looked happy to see her, too.
“Come on back to my office for a minute, so we can have a little talk in private.” She paused. “I’ll be right back,” she told Evelyn as she passed her in the aisle.
“So how are things working out for you at the coach’s? Are you okay there?” Liddy asked.
“It’s okay. Coach’s wife is nice, and she’s a good cook.”
“So I guess dinners are a little better than a bag of chips, a candy bar, or leftover pizza?”
He nodded, an embarrassed smile on his face. “Yeah. A lot better.”
“Dylan, if I’d known what you were going through—”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you’d been mad at me for crashing in your shop and eating your leftover pizza and using your computer.”
She hadn’t known about that last one, but it didn’t matter now.
“I swear, I never looked at your files or anything. I just typed a couple of papers and emailed them to my teachers.”
“I understand. I’m just glad you’ve got a place to stay and you’re able to stay in school.”
“Yeah, me too. I’m going to have to get a job so I can save some money, because I can’t live at Coach’s house much longer. Miz Riley’s mom fell yesterday and broke her leg. She’s in a hospital in Providence, but they’re going to move her to a nursing home, and they’re going to be bringing her to live with them as soon as she can get out of rehab. They’re going to need the room I’m staying in, but that’s not for another month or so, and by then I’ll be eighteen and no one will have to supervise me, so it’s okay.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but she could see the uncertainty of his future weighed heavily on his mind. “I knew I wouldn’t be staying there for too long.”
“Is there someone else you could stay with until you’ve finished high school?”
Dylan shook his head almost apologetically. “There really isn’t anyone. Unless I want to go out of state, like to my grandma’s, for real. That would mess me up with baseball, and that’s my ticket, you know?”
Liddy’s heart sank. It was so unfair that this good kid was going to be uprooted again. She wished she could have done more for him. On impulse, she said, “Dylan, maybe after you leave the Rileys’, you could stay with me if nothing else comes along. I have room, and you could stay until you start college next fall.”
He blinked, then stared as if he hadn’t understood what she’d said.
“And if you still need a job, you could work for me in the bookshop.” The words fell from her mouth even as the thoughts were forming.
“Wait, what? Live in your house? Work here?” He looked confused. “Why would you do that for me?”
“Because you deserve to finish out your last year of high school without worrying about where to live and whether you’ll have enough left at the end of the week to do your laundry.” Once she’d decided she was in, Liddy was all in. “I could use another person here, and I don’t know anyone else who knows their way around the shop like you do.”
“I know it pretty well, yeah. I loved being here, Miz Bryant. I like books a lot.”
“I suspected as much, since you always had one in your hands.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He still appeared dazed.
“Now, if you stay with me, there will be rules. Curfew. Keep your room clean. Maybe help out with some yard work. And it goes without saying: no drugs, no alcohol. And no kids—especially girls—in the house when I’m not there.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will. I mean, I won’t. I don’t smoke and I don’t drink and I’d never do drugs. And I’ll be happy to do yard work and anything else you need done. I’m stronger than I look, and I’m a real hard worker.”
“So what do you think? Want to fill out a job application?”
“I would. Thank you.”
She opened her bottom desk drawer and took an application form from a file. She handed it to him with a pen, and said, “You can leave this here on my desk when you’re done. I’ll be up front.”
“Thank you, Miz Bryant,” he said. “Miz Bryant . . . I don’t know what . . . how . . .”
“You’re welcome. You can have your coach call me. Tell him he can check me out with Chief Crawford. He’s known me since we were fifteen.” As she left the room, Liddy said, “Oh, one more thing. If you’re going to live in my house and work for me, you’re going to have to call me Liddy.”
There’d been a few late customers, which meant Liddy didn’t get to close up until almost nine fifteen. By the time she walked home, it was almost nine thirty. Along the way, she thought about what she’d done, the offers she’d made to Dylan. All her instincts told her she’d done exactly the right thing. She’d called Tuck to let him know she’d be late, but he assured her he didn’t care. He offered to come pick her up, but she declined. He was comfortable, he told her, in one of her rocking chairs on the front porch.
And that was where she found him. When she came up the front walk, she could see him, the rocker he was sitting in moving slowly back and forth, his feet up on the rail, and his head resting against the back of the chair.
“Well, don’t you look comfy,” she said as she came up the steps.
“I am, thank you.” He sat up and lowered his feet from the railing. “These are great chairs. I might have to get a few for the porch at home.”