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1.
When Scarlet disappears, Florence supposes she should have seen it coming.
The last few weeks of her tenure at the library were marked by long stretches of bickering that occasionally escalated into brief patches of gunfire, followed by profanity, or, infrequently, blessed silence. Florence had found herself perpetually on edge; it was a bit like trying to concentrate with an endless fireworks show in the background.
Madeleine, buried in a book more often than not, hardly seemed to notice.
“Doesn’t all that noise bother you?” Florence finally asked. “How on Earth can you focus?”
She smiled, set down her book. Florence angled her neck; from behind Madeleine, she couldn't see the title. "This isn’t my first broken home.”
Florence didn't quite know how to respond. She placed a hand on Madeleine’s shoulder; Madeleine quickly covered it with her own. “I didn’t know you were married before,” she said.
Madeleine looked up at her. Beneath the lobby, something exploded, and Anna May's voice rang out. “Don’t be silly, Florence.”
She withdrew her hand, found something to do across the room. “Oh. Is that what I am?”
“Now, now,” Madeleine said, getting up from the desk and following her. “Don’t be cross with me. I only meant--”
“I know what you--”
“--that you didn’t need to worry about me feeling sentimental about an old love. I wasn't referring to that.”
Madeleine touched her shoulder, beckoning her to turn around.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have overreacted,” Florence said. "It’s just all this constant noise. It’s making me feel crazy.”
“You need a good distraction.”
“Let me guess. Jane Austen?”
“A perennial favorite, but not quite what I had in mind.”
Florence raised an eyebrow. “Does it involve a weapon of some kind?”
“No,” Madeleine said. “I suppose I could draw you a map."
"I do prefer a detailed plan."
She leaned close, whispered in Florence's ear, and suddenly, she couldn't hear anything other than Madeleine's voice and the sound of her own quickened pulse.
Madeleine always was very good at planning.
Not quite as good as Florence, though.
Either way, the plan worked: over the next few weeks, Florence and Madeline found a variety of new and interesting ways to amuse themselves while staying out of the fray.
Now that Scarlet's gone, the silence is almost worse than the noise.
2.
Anna May has been cleaning her gun for at least 45 minutes longer than necessary.
The sound is starting to irritate her. Florence wishes, not for the first time, that Madeleine were here. Instead, she's attempting to train another new hire (a replacement for Scarlet, no one says), despite the failure of their last four efforts to find a suitable candidate. That means Florence is alone with a ticking bomb.
She's never been good at averting explosions, generally preferring to set them off. But continuing this way is not tenable, so she decides to give it a shot.
"Anna May," she says carefully, "perhaps you should get some sleep. I can keep an eye on things tonight."
She stops cleaning and turns an icy gaze on Florence. "You know the rules. Two librarians on premises at all times."
"Yes, but--"
"We will not be descending into chaos just because of recent events," she says in a tone that suggests she isn't amenable to any further discussion.
"Why don't I make us some tea, then? It's going to be a long night."
Anna May sighs. "Don't tiptoe around me, Florence, I don't need a nursemaid. Yes, I'm angry right now. But I'll live with it. We all will." She stands up. "Fuck tea; I'll get us something stronger."
Florence has no objection to that proposal.
Sometime between the end of the first bottle and the beginning of the second bottle of Scotch, Anna May says, "Do you ever think about that night in Antwerp?"
"Occasionally." She's surprised how easily the admission rolls out. They haven't discussed it once in the intervening years.
"That was a good time. Why didn't we ever do it again?"
"If I recall correctly, you didn't entirely trust me yet."
"Trying to garrot someone upon your first meeting will have that effect."
"I didn't trust you, either." Florence smiles. "And, at the time, we also shared the same concerns about fraternization."
She snorts. "Look at us now. I'm abandoned, and you're besotted."
Florence opens her mouth to contest the characterization, but finds that she can't. Instead, she reaches for Anna May's hand and says, "That's true. But you know there's always room for you if you want it."
Anna May looks at her with a softness she hasn't seen in years, and didn't expect to see tonight.
Before either of them can suggest a path forward, or backward, the doors burst open.
Madeleine is dabbing blood off her face with a handkerchief. "You know," she says, "I don't think we need a fourth person after all."
Florence is inclined to agree.
3.
The sun streams in through the diner window, and Florence's head is pounding.
Madeleine tutted over her after seeing the two empty bottles, put her to bed with water and aspirin. Neither helped. Annoyingly, her tolerance is not what it once was.
Across the table, Anna May seems utterly unaffected by any of the previous night's events as she peruses the menu with unwarranted vigor.
"It's the same menu," she snaps. "It never changes."
Anna May doesn't respond, nor does she stop her review.
"That's true," Madeleine says from beside her, "but there are plenty of options Anna May hasn't tried, or even considered."
"I couldn't have said it better myself."
Florence lays her throbbing head on the table. Undignified, to be certain, but there are no other patrons and the cool surface provides some relief.
Madeleine rests a hand in her hair, gentle and comforting. "I understand an offer was discussed last night."
"Can we talk about this later?" Florence asks, barely able to stand the sound of her own voice. As much as she loves Madeleine--and she does, she thinks, although she hasn't said it aloud--she would really prefer complete silence at the moment.
"Anna May and I have already talked about it. Your encounter in Antwerp certainly sounds intriguing. Three days in bed, was it?"
"Correct. A record for me, and one I haven't surpassed to date," Anna May says, looking through the sandwich options.
"That's a high bar. Good thing we all have some vacation time saved up."
"We can't close the library," Florence points out. "You both know the rules."
"Visitors can use the emergency alert system. We'll be on call."
She sits up. "Are we really considering this?"
"I never back down from a challenge," Anna May says. "Unless it was the Scotch talking last night."
"In my experience, Florence always means what she says." Madeleine glances at her. "Regardless of whether she is inebriated."
"I do," she says. "But I should have said that Madeleine and I--"
"Are completely in accord." Madeleine squeezes her hand. "I would have said exactly the same thing. Though I would have asked you first, and I wouldn't have a raging hangover today."
"To be fair," Anna May says, "she proposed tea. The Scotch was my idea."
"Still, she accepted your counteroffer. She knew the risks."
"She's not as young as she used to be. I suppose none of us are."
Florence shakes her head. "So, is this how it's going to be? Are you two just going to talk about me like I'm not here?"
"If recent history is any indication, my guess is you'll be an active participant. After you recover, that is." Madeleine smiles sweetly at her.
"That's also my understanding based on prior experience," Anna May says. "So, four days?"
"Let's plan for five," Madeleine says.
"I do prefer a detailed plan," she manages to say. The room is starting to spin, just a little.
"I know, love." Madeleine pats her knee. "After breakfast."
*
Their first attempt at breaking the record is interrupted by an unexpected visitor who triggers the alarm.
The visitor turns out to be a confused tourist.
The second time they try it, the alarm goes off for no apparent reason.
Madeleine decides that perhaps a fourth librarian could be useful. Just in case someone needs a book while they're gone.
After a suitable candidate is hired, they try again.
Third time's a charm.
Florence supposes she should have seen that coming, too.