Free The View From Here by Cindy Myers Page B

never remarried after he and my mom split, and he apparently never had any other children. He was eccentric enough to live up on a mountain all by himself, yet he seems to have had plenty of friends. I met a man who said Murph almost killed him, then a few weeks later saved his life, and the librarian apparently doesn’t like him because he kept a library book out for five years just to annoy her.”
    â€œHe sounds like a really interesting guy,” Barb said. “And I must say, you’ve learned a lot in one day.”
    â€œEverything I learn only leads to more questions. The only person he seems to have told about me is his lawyer. He went to all the trouble to leave me everything he owned, but why?”
    â€œIt’s sort of traditional for people to leave their belongings to their only living relative. You qualify.”
    â€œNothing else about my father or the way he lived was traditional.”
    â€œMaybe he felt guilty about abandoning you and your mother, and this is an attempt to make up for it. Guilt can be a powerful motivator, you know.”
    Such as her own guilt that she hadn’t done more to try to make contact with her father after she was grown. She’d vowed plenty of times to look for him but had never done so. “The more I find out, the worse I feel,” she said.
    â€œSo keep looking until you know everything,” Barb said.
    â€œI think it’s probably impossible at this point to know everything, since my dad isn’t here to tell me.”
    â€œThen keep searching until you find enough to make you feel better. Him leaving you and your mom was a shitty thing to do, but from what little you’ve told me so far, it doesn’t sound like he was a complete asshole. That has to be worth something.”
    â€œI guess you’re right. I’m going to stay here a little while longer anyway.”
    â€œLet me know if you need me to send you anything from Houston,” Barb said. “Better yet, let me know when I can come visit.”
    â€œGive me another week or so to get settled; then I’d love to see you.” The thought of having Barb here to bolster her spirits—and maybe her nerve, if need be—cheered her.
    â€œIs there anything interesting to do in Eureka, Colorado?” Barb asked. “Besides look at the gorgeous scenery?”
    â€œThere’s a hot springs. Clothing optional.”
    â€œOoh, now that does sound interesting. We must try it out when I visit. Any good-looking men?”
    Maggie thought of Jameso. “I’ve been too busy to look for men,” she said. “Why would I want one, anyway? The only ones I’ve known have been more trouble than they’re worth.”
    â€œTrue. But they have their uses.”
    â€œI don’t have any use for one right now.”
    â€œHave fun solving the mystery of your father,” Barb said. “It will be good for you to be on your own in a new place—one without so many unfortunate memories.”
    What about the good memories she had of Houston—and even of her marriage? There had been some, B.F.D.—before Francine Dupree. But maybe Barb was right. After her divorce she’d wanted to travel to exotic places in order to gain a new perspective on and new ideas for her life. Eureka wasn’t Tuscany or Nepal, but it felt worlds away from Houston and her problems there.
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    Cassie had not slept well, and this translated into a fouler than usual mood that made most patrons avoid speaking to her. They approached the counter warily and handed over their library cards and books to be checked out or turned in without comment. Word spread through book readers that Cassie was “having one of her days,” and those who could, decided to wait until another time to visit the library.
    A city council member had dared to complain once about Cassie’s surly attitude toward the patrons and taxpayers who were, after all, paying