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Authors: Miranda James
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work she had done getting our exhibit cases cleaned and ready. “We’ll do our best to resolve things with Mrs. Cartwright and her family.” I spoke with more confidence than I felt, but I wanted to erase the worried look from Bronwyn’s face. She nodded and attempted a smile.
I heard Diesel warble at her, and with her attention diverted to the cat, I headed to Teresa’s office.
When I walked in, I found her seated at her desk, glaring at her computer screen. “There’s no way. Absolutely no way.”
“Looking at the budget, I presume.” I sat in one of the chairs across from her.
Teresa nodded wearily as she turned to face me. “The money just isn’t there. Even if they were asking only a few hundred dollars.”
“How much do they want?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the figure.
“Seventy-five hundred.” Teresa still sounded shaken as she spoke the words.
“Good heavens.” Far worse than I’d imagined. “How do they think a small public library could come up with money like that?”
“You tell me.” She closed her eyes and massaged her temples with her fingertips. “I knew that big-name writers often get paid for doing talks at libraries, but I’ve heard they will sometimes waive their fees in special cases. This is as about as special a case as I can imagine.”
“Perhaps we can bargain with them, get them to drop the price.” I tried to sound encouraging. “Maybe even persuade them to drop their demand for a fee at all.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. When Mrs. Marter called to inform me about the fee, she sounded firm. I don’t think they’ll budge.”
“In that case we will simply tell them the exhibit will go on but without any appearance by Mrs. Cartwright. That would be a shame, but we have no other choice.”
Teresa nodded. “I thought about calling Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce, but they’re so generous as it is. I hate to go to them with my hands out yet again.”
The Ducote sisters—known to everyone in Athena as Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce—were the town’s richest citizens and the mainstays of all charitable efforts. They might be happy to oblige such a request, but I understood Teresa’s reluctance to approach them in this instance.
“I called Carrie Taylor,” Teresa continued, “and asked her to join us. I may be grasping at straws, but since she has devoted so much of her time to Mrs. Cartwright and her work, I didn’t think it would hurt to have another person to make an appeal on our behalf.”
“Good idea. Let’s hope you’re right.” I was about to say more, but Teresa looked past me at the doorway. I turned to see Mrs. Taylor paused there. I stood and offered her my chair and pulled another one near the desk for myself.
Teresa quickly filled Mrs. Taylor in, and the older woman frowned when she heard the details. “That’s outrageous. I dearly love Mrs. Cartwright and her books, but they ought to be ashamed for trying to stick the library with such a crazy demand.” She sniffed. “I’ll be willing to bet you EBC doesn’t know a thing about this. It’s that greedy grandson of hers. Never could hold down a job from what I’ve heard tell.”
Mrs. Taylor evidently knew more about the family than I realized. I wondered who the source of her information was. I was about to ask when she forestalled me. “I’m in frequent contact with EBC’s agent, Yancy Thigpen. She’s been a lot more informative about things than the man who used to represent EBC.”
Gossiping about a client didn’t sound at all ethical to me, but it didn’t appear to faze Mrs. Taylor.
“Of course, there are things I can’t print.” Mrs. Taylor gave us a smug smile. “Yancy tells me my little newsletter is the best of its kind she’s ever seen, and she doesn’t mind sharing these little tidbits with me. I’m sure she has EBC’s permission anyway. She knows I won’t spread them around.”
Teresa and I glanced at each other and then quickly away. The irony
I heard Diesel warble at her, and with her attention diverted to the cat, I headed to Teresa’s office.
When I walked in, I found her seated at her desk, glaring at her computer screen. “There’s no way. Absolutely no way.”
“Looking at the budget, I presume.” I sat in one of the chairs across from her.
Teresa nodded wearily as she turned to face me. “The money just isn’t there. Even if they were asking only a few hundred dollars.”
“How much do they want?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the figure.
“Seventy-five hundred.” Teresa still sounded shaken as she spoke the words.
“Good heavens.” Far worse than I’d imagined. “How do they think a small public library could come up with money like that?”
“You tell me.” She closed her eyes and massaged her temples with her fingertips. “I knew that big-name writers often get paid for doing talks at libraries, but I’ve heard they will sometimes waive their fees in special cases. This is as about as special a case as I can imagine.”
“Perhaps we can bargain with them, get them to drop the price.” I tried to sound encouraging. “Maybe even persuade them to drop their demand for a fee at all.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. When Mrs. Marter called to inform me about the fee, she sounded firm. I don’t think they’ll budge.”
“In that case we will simply tell them the exhibit will go on but without any appearance by Mrs. Cartwright. That would be a shame, but we have no other choice.”
Teresa nodded. “I thought about calling Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce, but they’re so generous as it is. I hate to go to them with my hands out yet again.”
The Ducote sisters—known to everyone in Athena as Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce—were the town’s richest citizens and the mainstays of all charitable efforts. They might be happy to oblige such a request, but I understood Teresa’s reluctance to approach them in this instance.
“I called Carrie Taylor,” Teresa continued, “and asked her to join us. I may be grasping at straws, but since she has devoted so much of her time to Mrs. Cartwright and her work, I didn’t think it would hurt to have another person to make an appeal on our behalf.”
“Good idea. Let’s hope you’re right.” I was about to say more, but Teresa looked past me at the doorway. I turned to see Mrs. Taylor paused there. I stood and offered her my chair and pulled another one near the desk for myself.
Teresa quickly filled Mrs. Taylor in, and the older woman frowned when she heard the details. “That’s outrageous. I dearly love Mrs. Cartwright and her books, but they ought to be ashamed for trying to stick the library with such a crazy demand.” She sniffed. “I’ll be willing to bet you EBC doesn’t know a thing about this. It’s that greedy grandson of hers. Never could hold down a job from what I’ve heard tell.”
Mrs. Taylor evidently knew more about the family than I realized. I wondered who the source of her information was. I was about to ask when she forestalled me. “I’m in frequent contact with EBC’s agent, Yancy Thigpen. She’s been a lot more informative about things than the man who used to represent EBC.”
Gossiping about a client didn’t sound at all ethical to me, but it didn’t appear to faze Mrs. Taylor.
“Of course, there are things I can’t print.” Mrs. Taylor gave us a smug smile. “Yancy tells me my little newsletter is the best of its kind she’s ever seen, and she doesn’t mind sharing these little tidbits with me. I’m sure she has EBC’s permission anyway. She knows I won’t spread them around.”
Teresa and I glanced at each other and then quickly away. The irony
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