Cora's Kitchen by Kimberly Garrett Brown

Author:Kimberly Garrett Brown [Garrett Brown, Kimberly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inanna Publications
Published: 2022-10-15T20:00:00+00:00

May 30, 1928

Today Mrs. Rose asked me to catalog the new shipment of books. Unpacking those boxes is one of my favorite jobs. It feels like Christmas morning. I can hardly wait to see what’s inside. I love the crisp, woodsiness of the paper mixed with the pungent smell of ink. Something always jumps out at me riffling through the pages. I keep a pad of paper nearby to jot down the titles. It’s a good thing Mrs. Rose made a rule that we can’t check out brand new books, because I would have taken home volume four of The Hardy Boys, The Missing Chums. It took everything in me to not read the first chapter. I felt like my old self again. Writing, Agnes and the Fitzgeralds were the furthest thing from my mind.

But when I came out of the backroom my heart nearly stopped. There was Eleanor, blank expression and hard-set mouth, solemnly engaged in a conversation with Cynthia. Her flowered silk dress and tightly woven cloche hat looked out of place against the worn pine circulation desk. Most of the women at the library, even the white ones, dressed more utilitarian. Their money and, for the most part, their time, focused on taking care of their families. I imagine Eleanor’s dress cost more than most of them saw in a month.

Cynthia glanced knowingly over her shoulder at me when she realized I was standing behind her. Eleanor seemed to look right through me. Something sank inside. I immediately thought of that scene in The Sport of Gods where Mr. Oakley called Berry to his library to accuse him of stealing Francis’s money. I could almost hear Catherine’s Irish brogue claiming to have suspected me all along.

“Mrs. Fitzgerald would like to speak with you,” Cynthia said, giving me a reproving once-over with her eyes. I acted as if Eleanor’s request was completely natural, even expected.

“Thank you, Cynthia. Nice to see you again, Mrs. Fitzgerald,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Is there somewhere we could speak privately?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Cynthia, perched on a stool pretending to sort through a stack of books, watched as I led Eleanor to the reference table several feet away.

“Perhaps the reading room would be better,” I said.

As we walked through the stacks, I tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong or missing. The family had nice things, but nothing of any value to me. If I wanted anything, it was Eleanor’s freedom and lifestyle. And there certainly wasn’t any way to steal that. Eleanor’s formal mask fell off the moment the door closed. She looked more like the woman I chatted with at the kitchen table. The tension in my shoulders relaxed.

I gestured for Eleanor to sit and then sat across from her. “Is there something wrong?” I asked.

“Well, no. Not really. Though it is rather complicated. I suppose I should just get right to the particular matter I came to discuss.”

The words “not really” and “complicated” echoed in my mind. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what she could possibly have to discuss with me.

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