“So, what, I should live in the mountains and never come to town?”
“No,” her mother said patiently. “But maybe you should let Gwen have this committee.”
“Have some faith, Mom!” Libby said irritably.
“Libby, honey,” her mother said. “I have faith in you. But I worry. Sometimes, you’re not the best judge of people.”
“Oh my God,” Libby muttered.
“You’ve worked so hard to come back from the events of the summer, to come back to you,” she said, gesturing to her. “I don’t want to see anything happen to ruin that for you.”
Libby was sick of everyone being so worried for her. “I’m fine, Mom. Really. I am.” Libby leaned over her mother to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll talk to you later.”
As she walked out of the coffee shop, Libby shook her head. She had worked hard. She was trying to improve herself. But she wasn’t going to sit back and not be part of this town.
TWENTY-FOUR
The Methodist church was a turn-of-the-century, redbrick building that smelled musty. The wooden floors creaked underfoot, which Libby discovered as she walked along the confusing maze of hallways, looking for the meeting room. She was late; her clomping about would announce her to everyone. So much for sliding in and taking a seat in back.
She saw the open door before she reached it, heard the sound of female voices rising up. She composed herself, put a smile on her face, and poked her head in.
The moment she did, everyone stopped talking and all heads swiveled in her direction. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said apologetically, and looked around for a seat. Dani Boxer, bless that woman, instantly pulled out an empty chair next to her. “Come sit here, Libby,” she said, as if she’d been expecting her.
Libby gratefully took that seat and kept smiling as she met everyone’s eye around the table. Deb Trimble was there, for course, her hair recently dyed a new shade of red. So was Karen Miller, who wore an Indian blanket around her shoulders. Barbara Perkins and Michelle Catucci were also in attendance, as was the ancient Mrs. Freeman, who had taught Libby tenth-grade English. She had a cotton-top head and smiled distantly at Libby.
Gwen was dressed in her dental hygienist scrubs. A row of toothbrushes carrying musical instruments marched around her torso. Her short, blond hair was pulled into a little ponytail, and held back by a pair of sunglasses on top of her head. She was wearing a big sparkly ring—a sapphire, it looked like. Libby wondered if it was an engagement ring.
Gwen did not look at Libby, but kept her gaze on her notes. But Libby was acutely aware that every other woman in that room was watching her and Gwen, and she could almost feel a collective shift forward in anticipation.
“Could we please get started?” Gwen asked, lifting her gaze from the paper before her and looking down the table. “A bit of good news first—we have raised forty-two hundred dollars so far.”
“Ooh,” said Mrs. Freeman. “That’s a good start!”
“I think we should give ourselves a round of applause,” Deb Trimble said, already clapping.
The group applauded themselves, Libby perhaps a little less enthusiastically than the others. Forty-two hundred dollars didn’t sound that great to her; they needed so much more.
“All right!” Gwen said. “Let’s get through this agenda so we can all get back to work. I assume most of us have to get back to work, anyway,” she said, and Libby was certain that her quick glance up was directed at her.
“So let’s talk about the silent auction,” Gwen said. “What have we been able to round up for bids?”
Deb Trimble raised her hand. “My husband was able to get the golf club over at Corita City to donate one annual membership. That’s a fifteen-hundred-dollar value.”
“Oh, that’s fantastic!” Dani said, and everyone congratulated Deb, who was eager to accept their praise. And so it went, the announcement of donations the women had arranged. It was great, Libby thought, really great . . . but none of the things mentioned—the golf membership, free guitar lessons, a new sewing machine—were enough to bring in the amount needed to buy Leo a van in time.
The talk shifted to when the silent auction would be held. Dani had volunteered the Grizzly Lodge. They batted around a few dates and finally settled on one a month down the road. When that was done, Gwen began to stack her papers. “Thanks, ladies!” She glanced at her watch. “We got a lot accomplished today.”
“Ah, excuse me?” Libby said, raising her hand.
Gwen tried not to look at her, but Dani said, “Oh, Libby, you’ve got something?”
“Okay,” Gwen said, and looked down at her paper. “Libby?”
“I thought maybe we could organize a race.”
“A race!” Karen said, as if she wasn’t quite sure what that meant.
“A run. Everyone is running these days, right?”