Here is the opening chapter of the story.
Jessica Connors climbed the wet steps to the
library. She was careful not to misstep or slip. It was almost 7:00 pm. The
library closed at 6:00 on Mondays, but the book club was allowed to use the
facilities after hours. The book club met in the meeting room on the library’s
main floor, adjacent to the main entrance. No club members were to wander about
the library while they met there. They were limited to the meeting room and the
washroom on the main floor.
Emily Hudson, the librarian, was waiting by the
door. Emily looked like a librarian; tall and slim, her hair cropped short, and
she wore glasses on a chain. She opened the door for Jessica, whose hands were
occupied. Jessica was carrying a box of cookies and a bag containing juice and
drinking cups. Over her shoulder was her big purse, and in it was the most
important item—her book.
This evening would be the first night the group
discussed their latest book, The Solicitor’s Daughter by Evelyn Lucas.
The Lincoln Street Book Club had been meeting for five and a half years.
Jessica Connors and Emily Hudson were its founding members, and over the years
membership, rules, and locations had changed some since its organization. It
was a good group of women, and it would not be too surprising if the club met
for years to come.
“Good evening, Jessica,” Emily said, holding the
door open. “Do you need a hand?”
“No, thanks, Emily, I got it,” said the other.
“Good night for an umbrella.”
“I forgot to bring one. I hope the rain stops by
8:30.”
“It’s difficult to say, according to tonight’s
forecast,” Emily said. “If you need an umbrella going home, I can lend you one
from the lost and found box.”
“Thanks.”
The two women went to the meeting room close to
the main entrance. While Jessica set up the refreshments for their break, Emily
stood by the meeting room door and kept an eye on the door at the main
entrance. That was to be the door book club members were to use.
“Sarah and Brittany are here,” Emily called over
her shoulder to Jessica. Sarah and Brittany were close friends, both in their
mid-twenties, were the youngest of the group, and both had been members of the
book club for a year. They were pleasant young women, and Emily secretly
referred to them as the Bobbsey Twins. They always came together, dressed
similarly, and each carried an identical travel mug of coffee. They reminded
Emily of two inseparable friends who had taken the same courses in high school
so they would be in the same classes all day. They continued the practice in
college. They would most likely get married the same year and have their first
child around the same time. They were determined to do everything together.
“Good. You can always count on those two to be
on time.” Jessica said.
Emily waved them over and greeted Sarah and
Brittany. Emily motioned them to the meeting room.
“Jessica is setting up inside,” Emily informed
them.
The two young women had stopped to fill their
mugs at the coffee shop on the corner. They smiled at Emily and went into
the meeting room.
“Here comes Amy,” Emily said, waving to Amy,
who, at sixty, was the oldest group member. Amy stepped in the door and shook
out her umbrella, leaving it by the door to
dry.
“Good evening, Amy,” Emily said. “Go right in.”
“Good evening, dear. I’m not late, am I?” Amy
said. Her manner and face displayed worry. “I don’t like to be late.”
“No, not at all, dear, not at all,” Emily said.
Poor Amy, Emily thought to herself. She always appears so nervous, almost
frightful. Why doesn’t Amy try to enhance her looks? She looks so frowzy. Emily
believed a new hairdo and stylish clothes would benefit Amy immensely. Sixty is
not that old, not anymore. Amy was never married and still lived with her aged
mother, who was terminal with cancer. Emily, who was almost fifty, shuddered to
think of ending up like Amy. No. That would never happen.
Emily looked at her watch—6:55. She went to the
door at the main entrance and looked out. The weather reduced traffic
considerably. She looked at her watch again. It was like this every time.
Always a few stragglers. Maybe the others were not coming. She looked out. The
rain continued to fall, and Emily kept an eye out for latecomers. She looked at
her watch again. She would give them a few more minutes, and after that, she
would lock the door. Wait, here comes Laura. Oops, she almost tripped on the
steps. Emily held the door open for her.
“Good evening, Laura. How is the family?”
“Hello, Emily. Oh, you know, one catastrophe
after the other. I was barely able to make it out of the house on time. Thanks
for asking. Where should I leave my umbrella?”
Emily motioned to the side where Amy had left hers
to dry. Laura set down her umbrella.
“Go right in,” Emily said.
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“Am I the last one?”
“Heavens, no. Still two to go.”
Laura was about thirty-five, married with three
children. She made it a point to tell anyone who would listen how busy her life
was because her family could not seem to get along without her. It sounded as
if she was forever having to do things for others and not taking care of
herself. More than once, Laura was heard saying she would most likely go mad if
she didn’t have the book club as an excuse to get out of the house and away
from them now and then.
Emily sometimes suspected Laura was close to
that precipice.
Laura went to the meeting room, and Emily turned
her eyes back on the street. She looked at her watch—two more minutes. I’ll
give them two more minutes, then I’m locking this door. She waited for three,
then locked the door. It was agreed that it was unsafe to leave the door
unlocked. Emily shrugged and went into the meeting room.
Everyone hung up their coats. Some were sitting
or standing, and all appeared happy to be out of the rain and were engaged in
conversation.
“I guess we can get started,” Emily said.
Everyone got out their book and took their seats
around the table. Only some people used hard-copy books. Sarah, Brittany, and
Emily usually had books downloaded onto their phones. Jessica had a Kindle
reader but often preferred a paperback.
“I hope everyone has had a good two weeks—”
Jessica began but was interrupted by a loud knocking.”
“Never fails,” Emily said, and with a sigh, she
stood up and went to see who was at the door. Hannah. Emily unlocked the door,
and Hannah shuffled inside, whispering her apology as if she were late for
church.
Hannah was Emily’s age and was coping with the
empty nest syndrome. Her children had left home, and her husband no longer
regarded Hannah as he once had. Emily could see the situation made Hannah
somewhat bitter, but like all the women in the group, she added a certain
dynamic to the book club, especially during discussions.
Emily looked out into the night. She locked the
door again and went back into the meeting room. Hannah followed her in mouthing
the word sorry to everyone and took her seat.
“Well, it appears we’re only missing Taylor, but
I think we can get started,” Jessica began again. “Tonight is our first night
to discuss The Solicitor’s Daughter by Evelyn Lucas. Later, we will be
choosing our pick for next month, so I hope everyone has a suggestion. Now—”
Another knock.
“That will be Taylor,” Emily said. She stood and
left the room.
From the sound of the knock, Emily knew Taylor
was at the side entrance. Emily had to turn on some lights leading to the side
entrance. She could see Taylor standing outside with her hood turned up over
her head against the rain and an impatient look on her pouting face. Taylor was
dressed in a black hoody and dark pants. Even the bag she carried was black.
Taylor was short and slight but had a tough edginess to her. Her skin was pale
and looked even paler thanks to the dark eyeshadow and lipstick. Her hair was
black, but not naturally so. Emily let her in but said nothing. Taylor
trudged past her to the meeting room without a word of greeting or thanks, and
Emily followed.
Emily stood with arms folded while Taylor took her seat.
“Well, let’s start,” Taylor said, petulantly.
“Before we do,” said Emily with controlled
impatience, “I would like to remind everyone that we are to use only the main
entrance, coming and going. I also would urge everyone to be here by 7:00
sharp.”
“I don’t understand why you just can’t keep the
doors unlocked,” Taylor said with a hint of defiance.
“It is a safety issue,” Emily said. “The library
allows us to use the facilities after hours but with the stipulation that all
the doors remain locked. Taylor, I have asked you not to use the side entrance,
and I have asked more than once.”
“That’s the way I come here. Why should I walk
all the way around?”
“Why don’t we just start the meeting a bit later?”
Sarah said.
“Yeah, maybe 7:05,” Brittany said.
To Jessica, it appeared as if the three youngest
were ganging up on Emily, so she decided to step in.
“If we started at 7:05, I could guarantee some
would be coming in after 7:05. We would like to start at seven sharp, and that
way we can be out by 8:30. If everyone could get here at 6:55, there wouldn’t
be a problem.”
“Brittany and I always come
early,” Sarah announced with pride.
“Yes, and that is
appreciated,” Jessica said.
“I was here before seven
o’clock,” Amy said, timidly.
“So was I,” Laura announced.
“And I’ve got kids at home.”
“Yes, you were,” Emily said.
“I will be on time from now
on,” Hannah said. “I don’t have an excuse for being late. I’ll be on time.”
I know we will all do our best
to get here on time,” Jessica said. Emily cleared her throat. “And only use the
door at the main entrance.”
Jessica looked over the faces around the room,
and everyone appeared to agree—everyone but Taylor, who looked as if her rights
were being infringed upon.
Taylor saw that everyone was
looking at her accusatorily. Taylor rolled her eyes. “Fine! I’ll be on time!”
One thing the Lincoln Street Book Club did
differently than most book clubs was that their meetings were bi-monthly
instead of once a month. That way, they could meet and talk about the first
half of the book while it was still fresh in their memory and, two weeks later,
meet and discuss the second half of the book they were reading.
“So, I trust everyone has read up to or about
page 213. Does anyone have an observation or comment they would like to share
with the group?”
“Yeah,” said Taylor. “Why are we reading this
stupid book?”
“This was the book we all agreed upon, Taylor,”
Emily said.
“I didn’t agree with it.”
“We may not have had a one hundred percent
consensus,” Jessica added, “but the majority agreed.”
“You were the only one who didn’t,” Emily told
Taylor.
“Well, I think it’s stupid,” Taylor said.
“Okay, let’s start with that,” Jessica said with
a positive tone. “Why is it stupid? We’re halfway through it. What don’t you
like about the book so far?”
“Everything.”
“Taylor, can you be more specific?” Jessica said
patiently.
Taylor said, “The main character, Elizabeth,
just sits around wondering if she can love the man her father has chosen for
her to marry, and then she falls for this other guy who comes to see her father
seeking advice. And all the time she’s dreaming about becoming a lawyer or solicitor
or whatever they call them in old England. Nothing much seems to happen.”
Emily thought she might clear up a point. “In
England, a solicitor is a type of lawyer trained to prepare cases and give
advice on legal subjects. They may represent people in lower courts. A
barrister works in a higher-level court. I believe they have the same system in
Australia.”
Jessica nodded her head and addressed the group.
“Thank you, Emily. Does anyone else here agree with Taylor or have another
opinion?”
“I like the love interest in the book,” Sarah
said. “It is quite compelling in an old-world romantic sort of way.”
Taylor moaned and said, “Oh, god.”
“You don’t know who Elizabeth will end up with,”
Brittany said, ignoring Taylor.
“I find Elizabeth’s struggle as a woman very
thought-provoking,” Laura said. “Women had so few choices in those days, and it
shows us how far we’ve come.”
“I like the mystery aspect of the story,” Amy
said.
“Mystery?” Emily questioned.
“Everybody has a history,” Amy said. “It’s
obvious Elizabeth’s father has a secret, as does Dudley, the man her father has
chosen for her. Even Mr. Blackstone is not telling the whole truth. Eventually,
Elizabeth will discover these men’s secrets. I hope when she does, it’s not too
late.”
“I think I know who Elizabeth is going to end up with,” Laura said with a grin.
“That’s only because you turned to the end to
find out,” Taylor said, snarkily.
“I did not.” Laura came back just as snarky.
“All right, ladies,” Jessica said, judiciously.
“Let’s not do this again.”
Laura often predicted the end of a book with
incredible accuracy. Jessica and others suspected Laura would sometimes read
ahead. It was one of the pitfalls of meeting bi-monthly. Members were
encouraged not to read too far ahead, but if they did, they were asked not to
discuss anything they read past the halfway point.
Despite Taylor’s negative attitude toward the
book, Jessica and Emily kept the group moving, and everyone offered their
opinions and insights into the story. It was a lively sharing, and even Taylor
ended up with something positive and meaningful to say.
After about forty-five minutes, the group took a
break to have a snack and a drink, which Jessica always provided. Some went to
the washroom. Laura was on her phone checking in with her kids to make sure
they did not burn down the house. Sarah and Brittany were on their phones to
see what they had missed on social media in the last hour. Taylor was also on
her phone, standing outside the meeting room while checking in with someone.
When the meeting resumed, they
talked some more about the book. Most of the women had underlined a favorite
passage from the book, and they shared it with the group and said why they
liked it. There was also a point in the discussion that allowed anyone to ask
questions about the book they did not understand. They discussed the setting,
the writer’s style and pacing, the plot, the characters, the themes, and the
impact. Did the story affect you? And how?
As the members shared their
thoughts on these questions, the women grew to know one another more and more.
A bond developed among them, like any group of people who go through some
experience together.
With about fifteen minutes left, Jessica
suggested they discuss their selection for October.
“Does anyone have a suggestion?” she asked,
looking around the room.
“Since we’ll finish the book at Halloween, how
about a horror story?” Taylor said. There were some sounds and comments, both
positive and negative.
“You know,” said Taylor, in her usually
impertinent manner, “no one in this group has ever once taken a suggestion of
mine. That’s pretty mean.”
“No one said we’re not going to consider your
suggestion,” Jessica said.
“I’ll bet,” Taylor said. “I heard Amy and
Hannah. They’re against it.”
“We can speak our mind if we wish to,” said Hannah.
“I don’t want any Stephen King,” said Amy.
“And no Anne Rice,” said Laura.
“I can’t believe this!” Taylor said, frustrated.
“I’ve never seen so many closed minds! I don’t even know why I continue to come
here.”
“Neither do I,” Laura said,
under her breath.
It seemed this meeting might end in one when
most of the group left with bad feelings. Jessica wanted to head this off and
turned to Emily for help.
“I might have a solution,” Emily said, picking
up on Jessica’s distress signal. “One of the purposes of the book club since
its conception was to read books about women, written by women.”
“Anne Rice is a woman… was a woman,”
Taylor said.
“But not the only woman to write horror,” said
Jessica. “There was Mary Shelley.”
“Charlotte Riddell,” Emily added.
“Marjorie Bowen.”
“Shirley Jackson.”
“Are any of those women still alive?” Taylor
asked, as if a dead writer wasn’t worth noticing.
“They’re as alive as Anne Rice,” Emily said.
“I think I’ve got just the Halloween book for
us,” Jessica said. “It has something for everyone.” They all looked at Jessica
expectantly.
“What is it?” Laura asked.
“Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier!” Jessica
announced.
“Daphne!” exclaimed Taylor. “Didn’t she work
with Scooby-Doo?”
“Du Maurier wrote stories that possessed a
certain gothic mood,” said Emily, and turning to Taylor, she said, “You would
appreciate that.”
Almost everyone laughed. Even Taylor smiled at
this.
“I read Rebecca years ago,” said Amy.
“But I’ll be happy to read it again.”
“Okay, so is it agreed?” Jessica posed. “We’ll
be reading Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier for October.” She looked around
the group for any objections. There was not one.
Emily was on her phone, checking out the
library's catalog. “The library has two copies, and I just reserved them both.
Does anyone want a library copy?”
Amy and Taylor put up a hand.
“All right, as for new copies, I can get three for
$8.99 each. That includes the discount. Is everyone good with that?”
Everyone nodded.
“I am asking everyone to bring a few extra
dollars so Jessica can recoup some money for the refreshments she supplies
every meeting. It is a very thoughtful gesture, and she should not have to bear
all the expense.”
“Great!” Jessica said, standing. “That was a
good meeting, and I look forward to seeing everyone again in two weeks when
we’ll finish with The Solicitor’s Daughter, and we’ll get our
copies of Rebecca. Goodnight, everyone.”
Jessica and Emily remained behind. Jessica
cleaned up a few cups left on the table and tossed a half-eaten cookie in the
plastic container and the nearly empty juice bottle. The rain had stopped, and
the two women exited the library together after Emily locked up and set the
alarm.
“Well, I think that went
fairly well,” Jessica said.
They bid each other goodnight
and went to their cars.
