“I’ll be happy to take you on the mini tour later,” Libby said, her cheeks coloring slightly. “It’s a passion project.”
Shelly tilted her head with curiosity. “How long have you been driving that?”
“About two years, coast to coast. I was laid off, so it was just for fun at first.” Libby furrowed her brow. “Anyway, I’m on my way to Los Angeles to interview for a job, so I won’t be taking her out much once I start working.” With a wistful look, she gave a little shrug.
“What do you do?” Ivy asked, wondering about this young woman who would drive a bookmobile for fun.
Poppy’s eyes were full of questions, too.
Libby’s face brightened. “I’m a librarian. That is, I used to be. My position was eliminated during budget cuts. I thought this bookmobile adventure would be an escape for a couple of months. But I’ve been all over the country visiting communities that don’t have a library nearby.”
“How cool,” Shelly said. “I’ll bet you have a thousand stories.”
Libby grinned shyly. “At least.”
Poppy leaned across the table, lacing her fingers. “How do you decide where to go? Do people invite you, or is it something else?”
Libby studied her for a moment. “I like to think that I wind up where I’m needed to make a difference.”
That was an interesting reply, Ivy thought, though she was used to visitors who expressed themselves in different ways. “Reading can certainly make a difference in people’s lives, especially children.”
“They’re my favorite,” Libby said. “Do you still have a library here?”
“We used to have a quaint little place.” Ivy shook her head. “But a fire broke out in the restaurant next door. The library and most of the books were damaged. Very little could be salvaged.”
“How sad,” Libby said, her expression sympathetic. “I hope no harm came to the library staff or patrons.”
Ivy appreciated the other woman’s compassion. “It happened late at night, so no one was there. Our longtime librarian was heartbroken over the damage, so she retired. She’s off traveling the world now.”
Libby nestled her backpack beside her chair. “Are there plans to build another one?”
“Our community didn’t have the budget to reopen the library,” Ivy replied. “Despite my best efforts to lobby the mayor, nothing has changed. Everyone misses the library.”
That remained a sore point between her and Bennett. Not that she didn’t welcome book clubs, students, and story time for the little ones here, but Summer Beach lost an essential pillar of the community.
“What a shame,” Libby said. “What can be done about it?”
“Nothing that a big chunk of funds wouldn’t solve,” Ivy replied.
Even as she spoke, a sense of loss filled her. Some of her fondest childhood memories were when her mother took her and her siblings to the library. They each had a library card with their name on it. That made Ivy feel grownup, so she kept hers safe.
“I miss it,” Shelly said, the edges of her mouth drifting down. “My library card was a key to adventure. We could check out an armload of books. The library trusted us, and that meant a lot to me. Even though I had to work off a few books I lost in a rogue wave. Mom and Dad insisted on that.”
“It was high tide, and you were too close anyway.” Ivy laughed, recalling the day Shelly’s books were swept out to sea.
Shelly made a face at Ivy. “The library was more than that. We had summer reading challenges, story times, and tutors. I studied there throughout school. The librarian showed me how to find books on plants and gardening, which stoked my interest in horticulture.” She heaved a sigh. “It’s a shame my daughter won’t experience the joy of a community library.”
With empathy etched on her face, Libby nodded. “People don’t know what they’ve lost until it’s gone.”
“We try to help fill that void,” Ivy said. “We host book clubs here at the inn on the lower level. Many of our retirees depended on the library for books and a sense of community.”
While the inn had hosted the book clubs that met at Pages Bookshop after the earthquake, when the shop reopened, they all returned there. The recent library fire brought many more book clubs to the inn, as the library hosted several meetings each day.
Poppy spoke up. “Now several people share assigned books. They draw straws to see who reads it first, and I hear them arguing about how long their friends are taking.”
Ivy smiled at Libby and gestured to Poppy’s tablet. “I’m sure you’ve heard all this before, so we’ll finish checking you in.”
Poppy turned on the tablet. “Would you like to use a credit card for the room?”
