Page 28 of The Library of Borrowed Hearts

She had romance and intrigue. She had a job and something to hide.

But most important of all, she had a friend.

11

CHLOE

“We need to find every outdated copy ofThe Haunting of Hill Houselocated within a hundred-mile radius,” I announced to Pepper as I came into work the next morning, my arms laden with the empty casserole dish, the copy of Hemingway, and a printed-out list of all the used bookstores in the area.

Unless I wanted to trek all the way to Spokane, the pickings were slim, but we weren’tcompletelywithout resources in our neck of the woods. Several of our thrift stores boasted well-stocked book sections, and garage sales were always an option. Besides, when it came to holding on to items until they literally fell apart, a town like ours pulled out all the stops. Bookcases became garage shelves before being torn apart and turned into fire starters. Sheets doubled as curtains until they needed to come down to make a faded floral toga for Spirit Week at the high school.

Even Theo had his ways and means. Just this morning, he’d informed us that we were expected to hunt down every back alley for discarded cigarette butts. Apparently, he’d learned in detention (five days, courtesy of the Toenail Incident) that the filters could be soaked in water to createa kind of antirust concoction. Theo planned to make gallons of the stuff and increase our family fortunes by selling it to local farmers.

I wished him well, as I always did, but politely declined to participate in his excavation efforts. Parenting already came with more terrible, disgusting tasks than anyone had warned me about. I wasn’t about to add more, family fortunes or not.

“Shirley Jackson?” Pepper asked as she came to relieve me of my burdens. She only grabbed the Hemingway book, so she wasn’t much help, but I could hardly blame her. I’d been up well past midnight reading and rereading the notes scrawled in the margins. It was more captivating than a Lucy Foley thriller, which was saying a lot considering how quickly I devoured every new thing she wrote. “Why? Is she our next stop on the Jasper Holmes literary tour?”

“End of chapter seventeen,” I said. Then, because I could see Gunderson making a beeline straight for me, I staved him off by handing him the empty casserole dish. “I bet you’re surprised to see this again so soon. My family devoured every bite. Apparently, I’ve been starving them. Please thank your wife again and let her know that we really enjoyed it. Was that cauliflower in there? Instead of pasta?”

I couldn’t have said anything better suited to put him in a good mood than if I’d asked him to share his celery water with me.

“The whole family’s doing keto.” He patted his stomach with the air of a proud mother-to-be. “I’ve lost eight pounds already. I’ll ask Babs to make you a few more to get you through the weekend.”

“Oh no. That’s not necessary. We’re doing really well. Great, actually.” I spat the words out like a machine gun. “Please don’t ask your wife to put herself out on our account. We wouldn’t be able to enjoy the food.”

“She only wants to help,” Gunderson said, a little hurt. “We all do.”

“It’s no use, Gunderson,” Pepper said, barely glancing up from the book. I could see the handwriting from here, but Gunderson didn’t seem to notice. “The only thing more difficult than getting Chloe to accepta helping hand is getting Chloe to admit that she needs one in the first place.”

“Says the woman who refuses to let me visit her ailing grandmother.”

“Oh, you can visit,” Pepper said without missing a beat. “You just aren’t allowed to bring anything with you when you come. By the way, Gunderson, she’s really enjoying the juice press you guys got for her. She’s not sure it’s doing anything about her thyroid, but she’s obsessed with sticking all the kitchen scraps in there and seeing what pops out. Yesterday, she made us a potato peel and onion juice that weirdly tastes like hash browns.”

“That’s not what we meant—” Gunderson began, but he gave up the fight with a sigh. “I’m glad she’s getting some use out of it.”

“How is this fair?” I cried.

Pepper turned a purposely obtuse gaze at me. “Did you want some of the hash brown juice? I’ll have her whip up an extra batch and bring it in tomorrow. I think you have drink it fresh, though, or the potato starts turning a weird shade of brownish-gray. You should ask Theo. I bet he knows why.”

“Pepper,” I said.

“Chloe,” she replied.

“Gunderson,” Gunderson said. He grinned and added, “I was feeling left out.”

Now it was my turn to give up the fight. I wasn’t nearly as gracious about it as he was, though. “Fine. Yes, Pepper, I’ll take some weird juice if she needs to unload it, but I can’t promise to drink any. And yes, Gunderson, a few more casseroles would be wonderful. I don’t want Babs to bend over backwards, but if she—”

“Say no more,” he said as he turned to leave, the casserole dish clutched to his chest. “She’ll be so excited. She has this new egg roll in a bowl recipe she’s been dying to try.”

We watched him go—me with relief, Pepper with a knowing grin.

“That’s not the route I’d have taken, but it worked. Was the food really good, or did you just say all that to get rid of him?”

“It was delicious,” I said, still feeling annoyed. “But that’s not the point. Pepper, I know how to accept help.”

“Sure, you do.”

“I literally exist on a combination of GoFundMe campaigns and state assistance.”