The Bluestockings: Chapter Thirteen

"Eleanor could sense a single thread woven into the fabric of these events, but she was too close to see how it all connected."

Welcome to The Nook! The Bluestockings is my latest novel, which I’m releasing in serial form one chapter at a time. These posts are free for you to read, but they were not free for me to produce. If you’d like to support my work, please consider becoming a paid subscriber or purchasing your own paperback/Kindle copy of The Bluestockings. Thanks for being here!

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Catch Up On Previous Chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

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Eleanor

After she told Maggie about the strange events in the storage room and Alma Gardyne’s draft novel, Eleanor was itching to investigate. Maggie, too, was delighted by the mysterious drawer, the handwritten pages, and the idea of it all having some sort of connection, however tenuous, with her stuffy, stubborn Aunt Ruby.

Eleanor also shared what her dad had said about him and Vera buying the bookstore property from Ruby all those years ago. “The hidden compartment, Alma Gardyne, the bookshop...” Eleanor mused, “it all feels connected.”

She and Maggie were organizing two end caps as the afternoon turned to dusk, pink and tangerine skies peeking out from behind a cluster of fluffy clouds. The fading light slanted across the floor towards their feet as the book tree blinked happily at them from the front window.

“And that whole room-going-cozy-and-smelling-like-Christmas thing? It’s giving major magical bookstore vibes,” Maggie agreed.

Eleanor paused and looked around the shop. If any place in her world had remained magical after all she had lost, it was Bluestocking Books. “Is it weird that it almost makes me sadder to think that might be true?” she asked Maggie, carefully tidying copies of a bestselling fantasy novel.

“Why? Because you might lose the shop?” Maggie replied, her mouth turned down in a sympathetic frown.

“Exactly,” Eleanor replied.

Suddenly, Maggie slapped her hand on the shelf and turned to Eleanor with wide, ecstatic eyes, her body practically vibrating with energy. “Holy crap, I just thought of something.”

“What is it?”

“What if—and hear me out—” Maggie started, “what if the bookstore is haunted by the ghost of Alma Gardyne?”

Eleanor pulled back, her features twisted in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“Seriously!” Maggie exclaimed. “Think about it. You’ve been so worried you won’t find a way to save the shop, and suddenly it goes all pumpkin spice cookie on you and reveals this book that’s been hidden for only God knows how long. It could be a clue.”

“A clue to help me find the book she wrote?” Eleanor laughed. “I want to read it, but I’m honestly more interested in Alma herself.”

“That’s what I mean.” Maggie started pacing back and forth, chewing on her thumb. “Maybe Alma was rich from all the books she’d sold, and she stashed money here somewhere. Maybe she hid that book in the drawer! Your dad said the desk was here when your parents bought the place.”

“Okay, sure. But you obviously don’t know much about publishing if you think Alma Gardyne got rich off her books,” Eleanor joked.

Maggie stopped pacing and shot Eleanor a look. “If my great-grandfather was her publisher, and this was his publishing headquarters, then it’s theoretically possible. He was a rich man. She might have been a bestseller in her time.”

“That’s true. But for someone to hide her book in the desk feels more personal than that.” Eleanor added.

Maggie put her hands on her hips, eyes sparkling with mischief. “She could have been William’s mistress.”

Eleanor blanched. “Gross.”

“Where’s the book? I want to see it.”

Eleanor beckoned Maggie to follow as she made her way towards the front of the shop. “In my bag. I almost hate to ask, considering how she responded when we invited her here, but do you think your aunt knows anything about Alma?”

Maggie paused to straighten the “New Releases” label Eleanor had affixed to a shelf. “I don’t know. She’s so hard to read sometimes.”

“Yeah, I gathered,” Eleanor replied. “I wouldn’t want to make her mad again, but I feel like she could help us.”

Maggie lifted a shoulder. “If she was mad, it was at me. Not you. I called her a loser with no friends.”

Eleanor gave Maggie a gentle shove. “Stop. You did not.”

“No, for real, I did. I think you were right about what you said. Maybe being around you stirs up old memories.”

Eleanor felt a stab of sympathy towards Ruby Hurst. She understood that feeling all too well.

Just then, they heard the front door burst open, followed by the quick-step shuffle of someone in a hurry. “Maggie!” shouted a panicked voice. Eleanor and Maggie snapped their heads towards the voice.

“That’s Marianne,” Maggie said, abandoning the label and hurrying to where her aunt’s housekeeper stood, stricken and pale, at the check-out counter. Eleanor followed close behind and nearly bumped into Maggie when she came up short at the look on Marianne’s face. Her eyes were as round as saucers, wild with fear, and her mascara ran in dried streaks down her cheeks.

“Oh, honey!” she cried at the sight of Maggie, who stood frozen in shock as Marianne swept her into a crushing embrace. “Maggie, sweetheart. It’s your aunt.”

Eleanor stepped forward. “What’s the matter?”

Marianne released Maggie from her grasp and pressed a hand to her heart, breathing hard. “Ruby, she—my love, she’s in the hospital. In the intensive care unit.”

James had hurried up the hall from his office at the commotion, and his eyes filled with concern upon hearing the news. “What happened?”

Marianne simply shook her head and reached for Maggie. “We need to go. Ben is with the ambulance, but I drove the car here so I could pick you up.”

“Wait!” Maggie exclaimed. She glanced at Eleanor and then looked at Marianne with pleading eyes. “Can Eleanor come? Please? I don’t want to go by myself.”

That was the last thing Eleanor wanted to do, but she felt a quiet gratitude that Maggie believed her capable of being that sort of friend, so she agreed. “Of course I will.”

James, who had been watching the scene with a drawn expression, gave Eleanor’s arm a gentle squeeze and said, “Marianne, is that alright?”

“Yes, of course,” she nodded, looking like she was about to crawl out of her skin with worry.

James urged Eleanor to call him with updates, and then they were in Ruby’s car, speeding down Abercorn Street towards the hospital. On the ride, Marianne’s tears flowed with abandon, and the girls kept silent, too stunned to do anything besides clutch each other's hands until the hospital came into view.

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Ben, a stocky older man with a face as drawn as their moods, met the trio in the lobby of Savannah University Medical Center and led them up to a waiting room in the intensive care unit. It was quiet, except for the low-grade hum of human activity and distant beeping, with the faint scent of lemon mixed with sweat and stale coffee.

Ben deposited them in worn plastic chairs and took Marianne aside. The girls watched them with anxious stares until Ben nodded and took off down the hall, leaving Marianne to bear the bad news.

“The doctor said she’s stable now,” she reassured them first, taking a seat across from Maggie. Both girls breathed a sigh of relief.

“What happened, Marianne?” Maggie asked.

Marianne shook her head. “She asked me to take her to the beach this morning,” she told them in a hushed voice, as though Ruby could hear her from down the hall. “I was stunned, truth be told. She hasn’t been to Tybee in decades, but I said alright. She was quiet all the way there. I could tell she was thinking about her Mam, what with the anniversary of her death coming up and all.”

Oh, Eleanor thought. A cold shiver of dread danced up her spine. Maggie swallowed audibly.

“She wasn’t in the right head space,” Marianne continued. “So when she got out of the car, I called Ben. I wanted him to stay on the phone with me in case—” Marianne sniffled, “in case he was needed.”

“You must know her better than anyone,” Eleanor noted. “To able to tell what she was thinking.”

Marianne sat up a little straighter in her seat. “I’ve worked for Ruby for a long time. She likes to pretend she’s all alone in the world, but I’m here. So is Ben. We know what she needs when she needs it.”

As if on cue, Ben returned to the waiting room, two Styrofoam cups of coffee in his hands. He stopped short when he caught them huddled together. “I can come back,” he said in a dry, rugged voice.

“That’s okay, Ben,” Maggie said. “We’re fine.” He nodded once at her, kind eyes partially hidden beneath wiry gray eyebrows, and took a seat next to Maggie.

“So, you called Ben from the beach?” Maggie prodded.

“That’s right,” Marianne replied. “She was gone for quite a while, and I couldn’t help but get nervous. So I got out and walked a ways down the shore.” Marianne choked up and put her coffee down on a side table. “I couldn’t see her anywhere and panicked, you know? I should have been able to see her, even if she had gone pretty far. There wasn’t anybody else out there.” The tears came in earnest now. “I started calling her name, and that’s when I finally saw her out in the water. She got pushed under by a wave, and I lost it. I screamed for her over and over and ran as best I could across the sand, but I couldn’t figure out where she’d gone. Then, by the grace of Almighty God, she came back up just as I was about to run past.”

Eleanor and Maggie were frozen, riveted, as they listened.

“I plunged into the water, screaming Ruby’s name, and dragged her out by the arms. God, but that water was cold. I thought for sure she was dead. I didn’t know exactly where I’d thrown my phone in the sand, so I was trying to do what I remembered of my old CPR training while shouting for Ben to call the ambulance.”

“I got there right when they did,” Ben whispered into his coffee cup. “She looked so small. She’s always been such a force of nature, you know? But it was like the water’d gone and shrunk her down to nothing. Like she was already gone.”

“You saved her life,” Eleanor said, with a swipe of her sweater across her eyes. “Both of you did.”

“I’ll never forget how she looked for as long as I live.” Marianne sipped her coffee and blanched. “If I weren’t so relieved, I’d be furious at her right now.”

“There’ll be time enough for that later,” Ben said with a halfhearted smile. “Thanks to you.”

“Will we be able to see her soon?” Maggie asked. She appears to shrink, seated cross-legged in the chair with her sweatshirt sleeves pulled over her hands.

“I hope so,” Marianne replied. She wiped her face with a tissue and let out a weary sigh. “She came to when I was giving her CPR, but she was delirious and vomiting, calling me ‘Mama’ again and again.” Eleanor’s pulse quickened. Maggie shot her an incredulous look. “I stripped off her wet clothes and wrapped her in my coat until the ambulance arrived. The doctor told me she had only passed out in the water, but she swallowed a lot of it, and she was severely hypothermic by the time they got her off the beach.”

“Oh my God,” Maggie muttered, her skin turning ghostly.

“You can say that again,” Ben said gruffly.

Eleanor didn’t speak the words aloud, but she knew they were all thinking it: the fact that Ruby had survived was little short of a miracle.

“We’re just waiting for the doctor to come back and let us know she’s awake,” Marianne finished. The wait continued for hours. Eleanor walked down to the cafeteria to get more coffee for everyone, all the while her mind a tangle of thoughts knotted up with curiosity. The secret compartment in William Hurst’s old desk, Alma Gardyne’s hidden draft, and now Ruby nearly drowning in the same place where her mother died. Eleanor could sense a single thread woven into the fabric of these events, but she was too close to see how it all connected. Maggie’s comments about the bookstore pricked at her thoughts.

Back in the waiting room, Maggie took Eleanor aside and hugged her. “Thank you for coming with me,” she said. “I know it was a lot to ask.”

“It’s okay,” Eleanor replied with a weak smile. “I’m happy that you did.”

Maggie pulled at a loose thread on her sweatshirt. “Do you need to go home? I don’t know how long we’re going to be here.”

Eleanor shook her head, even as she thought about the secret compartment hidden in the desk and the novel draft still waiting in her backpack. “I’ll stay until you guys leave. I don’t mind.”

Maggie pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. “While we wait, do you want to take a look at what I found about Alma Gardyne?"

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