Falling in Love (Rockford Falls 5)

When we pulled in to the parking lot, I could see the extent of the damage instantly. I heard her gasp and when I glanced at her, her mouth had dropped open.

17

Michelle

Part of the roof was completely torn off by the high winds. A massive limb was sticking out of the hole like a dislocated bone. Rain was still falling and it was ruining carpet and wooden shelving and computers and the books. All those books. Everything I’d had to write grants painstakingly to acquire, every scanner and printer and Chromebook I’d requisitioned and argued for, every penny of the budget I’d stretched so carefully to bring in a new Young Adult section—I wanted to burst into tears. I’d curated every title, previewed the interest level by age group, worked to get the library board to agree to expand our e-book offerings.

Honestly, I felt like I’d been shot in the leg. It wasn’t fatal, but it hurt like hell and it would take a long time to recover from this.

Firefighters were there to secure the area and inspect it. I was grateful for their help. Drew was beside me like this silent mountain, this support system I didn’t know I needed. I wanted to turn and walk into his arms and let him cradle me and hold me up. But I had a job to do, and the first part of that was to assess the damage and start documenting for the inevitable insurance adjustor’s visit. I had to start making lists immediately. Contact the mayor and the library board and the city council to inform them of damage. Reach out to insurance and start the claim. Find workmen and get bids.

I went up to Damon and thanked him.

“We shut down the electrical supply already. I’ve been in and the damage is pretty extensive. It should be safe to go inside and look around. And I was home when the call came in and Trixie made me bring you these. She said to call her later,” he said, retrieving a pair of rain boots from the fire truck.

“Thank you. I will. I’m a little—freaked out right now so it may be a lot later.”

“I’ll tell her. Take care. Let us know if we can help out.”

“I will. Thanks for everything,” I said to him.

I toed off my shoes and steadied myself on Drew’s arm while I stepped in to the shiny green boots.

“Oh my Lord, these are the Hunter boots Damon got her for her birthday. I can’t get these dirty,” I said.

“She wants you to use them. Plus, they’re rubber boots. It won’t hurt them,” he assured me. I nodded, blinking back tears. My thoughtful friend Trixie sent me one of her favorite things just so I wouldn’t ruin my own shoes going into the library to see how badly it was trashed. I cleared my throat, determined not to cry. I had a job to do.

“Do you need paper and pen? Or do you just want to take pictures first?” he asked. “For the insurance.”

“I—paper and pen would be good if you have it.”

He went back to his truck and returned with a flashlight as well as a legal pad and a pen that said Casey’s Garage on the side.

I unlocked the front door and trained the beam of the flashlight along the floor, assessing. Once we got into the main reference room, I stopped and swept the light across the entire room slowly.

“Shit,” I said.

The carpet was soaked, for one thing. Two of the computers and the copier were sitting in water with collapsed acoustical tiles on top of them where the ceiling had caved in. A large section of shelving along the west wall had dislodged and poured the damaged books onto the floor, shelves hanging lopsided as broken teeth.

“The local history section, most of

world history, health and science, all of poetry and drama, the cookbooks—the display of high school yearbooks going back to 1932…” I muttered to myself as I wrote on the legal pad.

Next we wandered into the children’s room, which was on the other side of the building and was untouched. The conference room was fine, but my office and the storage room were both waterlogged. Papers and books and my laptop were destroyed on my desk. A vintage Readers Are Leaders poster with a cartoon fox on it that I loved was curling off the wall, the drywall soaked and the poster ruined beyond saving. I lifted it gingerly by the corner that had peeled away. I bit my lip, put down my legal pad and just grabbed the poster with both hands and yanked it off the wall. I tried to rip it, but it was soggy that it didn’t even make a satisfying tear—it just crumpled.

“Damn it!” I shouted, throwing the pieces down.