We hustled into the single-story, brick building, our empty cloth bags billowing like kites, the cold air rushing into them and lifting them skyward. The heat enveloped us as soon as we stepped inside and the kids peeled off their jackets, hanging them on the hooks mounted in the makeshift coat closet. I carried the full bag of books to the return window and Sophie and Grace scampered off to the children’s section. Will rounded a different corner, headed toward the non-fiction titles and, after the books were safely on the return belt, I wandered over to the adult side of the library to find something for myself.
There were other patrons there that morning but most were sitting at the bank of desks, parked in front of computer monitors. I headed toward the display of new fiction titles and perused them, picking up one or two to scan the back covers and read the blurbs. A woman joined me, her back to me as she scanned the shelves nearby. I picked up another book and she turned to look at me, a quick glance before turning back around to face the shelves.
I pretended not to notice her, but I knew she kept looking at me every few seconds. The couple of times I tried to meet her gaze, she looked away, her gaze locking in on the books on the shelf. I walked around the new release display and down the next aisle. She followed. I stopped and pretended to be very interested in a water gardening book I found on the shelf. Right before I could ask her what she was doing, she came several steps closer to me, smiling.
“You’re Daisy, right?” she said, her bright red lips spreading to reveal even brighter white teeth. “Daisy Savage?”
“I am,” I said. “Who are you?”
“I thought so,” she said, the smile growing. “I didn’t mean to stalk you. I just wasn’t sure if it was you or not.”
“And you are?” I asked again.
She held out her hand. “Helen Stunderson.”
I hesitated, then shook her hand. “Olaf’s wife.”
“Ex-wife,” she corrected, still smiling. “Very much the ex-wife.”
“Right.”
The smile dissipated. “The police contacted me. About finding Olaf in your home.”
“Technically, he wasn’t in our home,” I said. “He was in the coal chute.”
“Yes, that’s what they told me,” she said, nodding. “That is just…bizarre. I was so sorry to hear about it.”
“I’m sure,” I said. And then, because I didn’t know what else to say, I added, “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, we weren’t still in love or anything,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “It was over a long time ago. I know Olaf didn’t want it to be, but it was. Sad, really. I tried to be gentle, but it’s difficult when one person wants out and the other doesn’t.” She touched my elbow. “I’m sure you understand.”
“Well, I—”
“I mean, it’s so hard,” she said, talking right over me and giving my elbow a gentle squeeze. “You don’t want to break someone’s heart. You don’t want to tell them no. But, my goodness. I deserve to have some happiness, too, and being with Olaf…well, that just wasn’t going to do it for me. And I was, of course, afraid I’d make him miserable.” She forced something resembling an empathetic smile onto her face. “I just tried to let him down easy. That was all I could do. But again. You’ve been there, right? You know what it’s like.”
“Well, it was a little different for me because—”
“I mean, what do you do?” she asked, squinting at me and again ignoring my attempt to answer her question. “It hurts to do that. You feel like the bad guy. And I’m certainly not the bad guy. But I didn’t want to stay in a relationship that wasn’t good for either of us. But it was so hard to have him keep coming back and coming back and asking if we could give it one more shot. My heart wanted to say yes just because I hated seeing him so sad, but my head told me it was just best to cut the cord.” She made a snipping gesture with her fingers. “Quick and neat.”
I paused, wondering if this was another attempt to get me to answer a question she didn’t really want answered. She seemed to be catching her breath and then something flashed through her expression.
“I’m sorry,” she said, releasing my elbow. “I didn’t mean to just spit all that out at you at once. And accost you here in the library. I apologize.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “Not a problem.” And it really wasn’t. Compared to the confrontation with Olaf’s sister the other day, this had been relatively easy. At least Helen wasn’t accusing me of murder.
“But I do have a question for you.”
“A question?” I wondered if she’d actually let me answer it.
She grimaced, as if finding the words was difficult. “When you and Olaf dated—”
“Let me stop you right there,” I said, deciding I’d be the interrupter this time. “We didn’t date. We went on one date. There’s a misconception out there for some reason that Olaf and I were actually together for some period of time. We went on one date and that was it.”
“Right, right,” she said, nodding. Her hair fell forward and she pushed it off her forehead. “Sorry. Poor choice of words. So…when you and Olaf went on your one date…did he mention me?”
I frowned. It was an odd thing to ask me, especially since she’d just spent the last few minutes trying to convince me that the last thing in the world she wanted was for Olaf to focus on her or mention her. And since she seemed to understand that we’d only gone out once, I didn’t know what she thought he might’ve said to me about her in the couple of hours we were together.
“No.” I shook my head. “We didn’t really talk about his divorce. Or mine.”
She raised her eyebrows. “So not a word?” she asked. She chuckled. “Well, that would’ve been a first. Maybe you don’t remember.”
I straightened a little. “No, I’m pretty sure I remember. We specifically didn’t talk about our divorces. It didn’t seem appropriate. For either of us.”
She clicked her tongue. “That’s so very strange I mean, he never went anywhere without talking about me. I mean, us.”
I stared at her. I could think of a number of things that were even stranger than her ex-husband not discussing her during a date. Stalking me at the library ranked right up there.
“It seems coincidental running into you here,” I said slowly. “Considering we’ve never run into each other anywhere else in town before.”
She blinked rapidly. “What’s that?”
“I said it’s coincidental running into you here,” I repeated. “Since we’ve never met before. Just seems…very coincidental.”
“Oh, right,” she said, nodding. “Yes. It is. But I…I work here.”
Guilt and embarrassment flooded me. “You do?”
She nodded. “Part time. I help shelve the books.” She smiled. “And I should probably get back to that. It was a pleasure meeting you. We’ll have to talk again sometime.”
She hustled off and disappeared into the maze of aisles.
I stood there for a moment, replaying the entire conversation in my head. Helen was…odd. But maybe she was just out of sorts because her ex-husband was dead. I had no emotional connection to Thornton anymore, but it would still be strange to hear about his death. I wished I’d thought to ask her about Olaf’s sister and see if she thought there was anything strange going on there. Of course, she hadn’t really given me the opportunity to say very much.
I returned to the new release section and picked up a book, trying to clear my head. I flipped to the the first page and, satisfied that it had the potential to hold my interest, tucked it under my arm and headed back to the children’s section.