The four of us made small talk about our jobs and the local minor league baseball team. “Do you like baseball?” Jake asked me.
“I do. I played softball in high school.”
“There’s a game Wednesday night. Want to go?”
My breath caught in my throat. There was no way I could claim that was simple kindness. It sounded more like a date. “I’d love to. But don’t you have to get back out on the road?”
“No. My dad was looking to retire and he talked me into taking over in the office. As of last month, I’m the new vice president of the company.” Jake dropped his napkin onto his plate and rose. “I’m afraid I have to mingle. I hope you’ll all take advantage of the dessert table.” He rested his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze before moving on.
I couldn’t help but watch him walk away. Others called out to him and he made the rounds of the tables before he was finally able to throw away his plate. One thing that hadn’t changed over the years was the way people naturally gravitated to him.
“Earth to Chrissy…” Sue’s voice snapped me back.
I jumped and turned to my friends. “Sorry. I got lost in thought.”
“I can imagine,” she replied with a grin.
The sudden warmth rising up my neck probably confirmed what they were thinking.
Sue and I strolled among the small groups of people while Pete went inside to the game room, hoping to best his coworker at darts. I didn’t know anyone, but no one treated me like an outsider, and for that I was relieved. I had broken the icy fear that had kept me away from people for long enough.
When it came time to leave, Jake and I lagged behind Sue and Pete on our way up the street to where we’d parked. Again, his hand rested on my back and I battled the urge to press back into its warmth. He spoke softly. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”
“So am I. You have a lovely house.”
“I’m looking forward to having you all to myself on Wednesday.”
“Yes, just us, and a couple hundred other baseball fans.”
He laughed. “Well, I guess they’ll be there, too.” He kicked a pebble off the sidewalk. “Can I ask you a kind of personal question without you getting upset?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
“Were you, well, heavy in school? Or did you have frizzy hair or bad glasses?”
That was the farthest from what I’d expected him to ask. I laughed a bit too loudly. “No. Why?”
His fingers stroked my hair. “I just can’t imagine how I didn’t notice you.”
I bit back my usual response about how invisible I had been. I didn’t need to make excuses anymore. Feeling flirty, I tilted my head slightly and glanced out the corner of my eye. “I can’t explain it either. Were you horribly nearsighted?”
Jake’s arm slipped around my shoulders and he squeezed briefly as he chuckled. He stopped a few feet from Pete’s car. “Chrissy, I am so glad I finally met you. I almost turned around that night and drove back to the truck stop to give you my phone number. But I was afraid you’d think I felt sorry for you.”
“I might have, for about five minutes. But I still would have called.”
He gave me a smile that nearly stopped my heart. “Well, your friends are waiting. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what time the game is.”
I tried to leave but my feet wouldn’t budge. “Thanks for inviting us tonight.”
“How could I not? When I saw you in the restaurant it seemed like a second chance. I wasn’t about to pass this one by. I’m looking forward to knowing you better.”
“Me, too.” I forced my feet to walk. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then.”
Jake stood on the sidewalk as we pulled away. He waved, and I waved back, then I turned around and faced the road ahead. No more looking back. There was too much to look forward to.
The End
***
Epoch
Jane Charles
“‘It was the best of times; it was the worst of times’,” I recited before I sighed and closed the book to place it back on the shelf.
Charles Dickens would always be one of my favorite authors, but his books were checked out so rarely, usually only for required reading at one of the local schools. It was sad, actually. How could anyone not want their own copy of classics like The Tale of Two Cities?
The library I currently managed was three stories high and a city block wide, full of books. There was something here for every reader. And the section I now stood in, one I created three years ago, housed all of the books listed on class syllabuses for the university, junior college and most high schools in the area, with at least five copies of each book listed as required reading. Often, these shelves were empty. Well, at least the students were reading the books and not the Cliff Notes.
I closed my eyes for a moment and listened. Complete silence. Even though you were supposed to be quiet in a library, there were always noises, hushed conversations, the sound of footsteps, books being dropped and fingers clicking against the keys of a laptop. My parents warned me that it wasn’t safe to work this late, alone. They constantly and strongly encouraged me to find another job. One that didn’t require so many hours, and a career that made better use of my English degree.
If I wasn’t going to do that, then I should at least marry and have children. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. First I needed a boyfriend. I hadn’t had one of those in at least five years.
Besides, I preferred to choose my own fate and there was so much I still wanted to do. Even if I was interested in marriage and children, there were no eligible men around. At least not in my library.
“‘It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness’,” a voice on the other side of the stacks responded.
I lifted my head. I knew that voice but couldn’t quite place it.
Glancing at my watch I confirmed the time. The library closed five minutes ago. My coworkers, Beth and Trent, assured me everyone was gone before they left, locking me in the building to finish putting books away before I left for the night.
“Who’s there?” My heels clicked on the hardwood floor as I made my way to the end of the aisle. My heart pounded and my pulse raced. This was the first time I had been nervous, almost afraid, in my library. I silently cursed my propensity toward high heels. What if I needed to run?
“‘It was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness’,” the voice answered. “One could say we are also experiencing an epoch right now.”
“Who are you? Please, show yourself,” I insisted, hoping my voice did not reveal my fear. Clutching my woolen skirt I peered down the aisle.
“‘It was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair’,” the voice continued, accompanied by the thump of a cane and the whisper of a foot that slid across the floor.
I inwardly sighed. I should have known that voice. It belonged to Joseph Andrews. He came to the library weekly, borrowing stacks of books, returning them the following Tuesday, and taking another stack with him. I knew little of the man. Only that he had been injured in Afghanistan, losing partial use of his right leg. We exchanged pleasantries on those Tuesday afternoons, but never discussed anything of importance.
“You compare the French Revolution to the war we are fighting?” I asked as Joseph moved closer.
He had the bluest eyes, blondest hair and the most adorable dimple on the left side of his mouth. Though he walked with a limp, his posture was perfect, shoulders wide, and his smile, always warm and engaging. He couldn’t have been over thirty, and it was because of Joseph I always looked forward to working on Tuesday. Not that I would ever admit it to anyone, but I scheduled my day so I could be the one at the desk when he returned his books and reappeared when he checked out the new ones. He always had an eclectic selection, from classics to the latest Patricia Cromwell, to history and travel. I
had even gone so far as to snoop. Yes, that is exactly what I did, snoop through his history in the computer.
“Not necessarily war.” He shrugged his shoulders. “More of an event to begin a new period, or a memorable date.” The left side of his mouth tilted into half a smile, as if he knew a secret I did not.
I racked my brain. Nothing of importance was happening. Nothing that would make this particular time remembered in years to come. “You have memorized The Tale of Two Cities?” I asked as he came to stand before me.
“It was impossible not to,” Joseph chuckled. “Do you have any idea how many of my students begin their papers on the French Revolution with those lines?”
I brought my hand up to muffle my laugh.
Joseph lifted his hand to move mine away. “Please, don’t hide your smile. It’s one of the most beautiful sights to behold.”
My cheeks heated at the compliment.
“Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner this evening?” Joseph asked.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had been asked to dinner, or anywhere for that matter. Books had been my friends, my affairs. Unless you counted Beth and Trent, but that was only an occasional bite to eat after work.
“If you would rather not, I understand.” His smile was sad as he glanced at the cane in his hand.
He thought my hesitation stemmed from his limp? Nothing could be further from the truth. “I would enjoy dinner very much.”
“Yet you hesitated.” He quirked an eyebrow at me.
“It’s just so unexpected. In all honesty, I can’t remember the last time I was asked to dinner.” I bit my lip. Why had I admitted that to him?
Joseph laughed. “Oh, Miss Barker, you need to leave the library now and again—you’d get asked out often.”
“You sound like my parents.”
Joseph chuckled as he offered his left arm. “They sound very wise.”
*
We stepped inside the brightly lit coffee shop, bustling with activity even though it was midnight. He held a chair for me as I sat down. If anything, Joseph was a gentleman. He held the door to the library for me, the door to the car and now pulled out a chair. My heart did a little flip at being treated in such a way.
“I didn’t realize only greasy burger joints were open this late,” he said as he pushed my chair in.
“I wouldn’t have minded a greasy burger,” I lied.
He slid into a chair across from me and leaned his cane against the wall. “Yes, I noted your enthusiastic response when I suggested the Grease Spot.” His tone and his smile dripped of sarcasm.
I had never been one to school my features. My face was an open book, ironically. “I have nothing against the Grease Spot. It’s just that at this time of night it’s usually full of drunken college students.” At least that had been the case the few times I had been there with Beth and Trent after a long night at the library.
“You have to admit, the burgers are amazing.”
In that, I agreed. “I don’t know what they do, but I’ve never been able to make one nearly as good at home.”
He grinned at me. “Perhaps lunch one day,” he suggested. “I try to avoid my students when they’re inebriated.”
I had always wondered what he did. Tonight was the first time he mentioned students. “Where do you teach?”
We paused to give the waitress our orders—a decaf café mocha for me and a cup of black coffee for Joseph.
“The university,” he answered as she walked away.
“French history?” Hadn’t that been what he mentioned in the library?
“Along with English and European.” He glanced around. “You have attracted a bit of attention.”
Several people, all of an age to be his students, were glancing in our direction. It wasn’t me who drew the attention. “How many of them are your students?”
He shrugged. “Some of them are current, some from past years.”
Girls whispered and glanced at him. I suspected many of them took his course just to be in the same room as Joseph, whether they were interested in the subject or not. If I were a student, I would take every class he taught. “I don’t think they’re looking at me.”
There was a sudden stab to my heart, which took me by surprise. Was I jealous? Goodness, I barely knew the man, and this was the first time we had been on a date, if you could even call it that. They were young and pretty. Why had he asked me out? My thirtieth birthday loomed and if I were in a historical romance novel, I would be considered a spinster. That wasn’t a very pleasant thought.
“They’re probably surprised to see their old professor out this late. Or out of the classroom, for that matter.”
“I hardly consider you old.”
“Those students are easily ten years younger than I am. I’m sure they’re wondering why I’m here and not tucked into bed.
I would be happy to tuck you into bed. Goodness, where had that thought come from? I looked away and took in the room, hoping he didn’t notice my red cheeks.
“Two months.” He sighed.
“What’s in two months?”
He grinned and leaned in. “School is out and for once, I am not teaching summer classes.”
Oh, to have a summer free. “What do you plan to do with your free time?”
He studied me for a moment. “I’m sure I’ll find plenty to keep me occupied.”
I wanted to ask if any of those activities included me, but didn’t dare. For the moment I could only hope.
*
“Catherine?”
I glanced up from my desk to find Beth in the doorway.
“I need to leave.”
She had a date tonight and had been talking about it for the past three days. I wish I had one, but I hadn’t seen Joseph since Tuesday and admittedly, I was a little disappointed. I had hoped after having coffee he would ask me out to dinner or a movie for the weekend. But, as this was closing time on Friday night and I hadn’t heard from him, Tuesday may have been my one and only date with him.
“I wasn’t able to finish straightening the children’s room. Could you finish it for me?”
This wasn’t a surprise. That room was always the messiest. “I’ll take care of it. Have fun tonight.”
A stab of jealousy hit me. It hadn’t bothered me before when Beth went on one of her many dates, but tonight it gnawed at me. Maybe I should change my hours around so I had more evenings free. I was in charge—I could switch the schedule on a whim. It was just difficult to find reliable, knowledgeable people willing to work at night. Everyone wanted daytime hours. They all had lives, unlike me.
I closed the ledger on my desk and put it away before I shut the lights off and locked the door to my office. Hopefully the children’s room wasn’t too destroyed. I just wanted to go home and crawl into bed.
God, my life was depressing. And just a week ago I’d been perfectly fine with it. I had Joseph to thank for this newfound desire for more.
I stepped inside the brightly lit room. One wall, the princess wall, was painted with flowers and princesses, princes, unicorns and anything that could be found within the pages of the books little girls adored. The opposite wall was painted with knights, castles, horses, cowboys, spaceships, stars and anything little boys liked. To get to the center of the room where there were tables, chairs, beanbag chairs and games, you had to make your way through a maze of bookshelves. The children loved the maze and once the regulars knew the route, we rearranged the shelves again.
I walked between two stacks to make my way toward the center and then took a wrong turn. I should have grabbed the map by the front door—the one we made for the less adventurous visitors.
Two wrong turns later I finally went up on my tiptoes to look above the shelves.
That was it. All I needed to do was turn back, take a left, left and right.
With a sigh I stepped into the center of the room and came up short. Joseph lounged on a blanket spread in the middle of the f
loor, a picnic basket in the center. There were two plates with deli sandwiches, kettle chips and apple juice.
“What are you doing here?”
“Discovering your library.”
“And you wanted to start in here?” I settled onto the blanket beside him, still slightly dumbfounded. The room was as neat as a pin. Beth had known all along he was here.
“This is where the love for stories begins, does it not.”
“It’s where I fell in love with books.” And could easily fall in love with you.
He took a wine glass from the basket and poured apple juice into it. “I would have brought wine but didn’t think it was appropriate for the children’s room. He winked.
Not to mention there was a rule against alcohol, which I would have quickly and easily broken for Joseph.
“I suspect you were one of those little girls who wanted to be a princess.”
“Yes,” I laughed. “I was positive that one day I would find my knight and live happily ever after in a giant castle.”
He chuckled and reached into the basket once again.
“I didn’t anticipate my castle would actually be the public library.”
“But here you are queen.” He pulled out a plastic tiara with pink jewels and placed it on top of my head.
It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me, and a bit of me began to fall further in love. I truly felt like a princess at that very moment. Especially when he leaned forward and gently kissed my lips. I could have stayed there all night kissing him, but eventually he pulled away and began talking about his favorite childhood stories and asking about mine.
We talked for hours and even read to one another from some of our favorite childhood books. Whoever said that magic could be found in the pages of a book truly knew what they were talking about.
*
The weekend came and went without a word from Joseph. Of course, he didn’t have my cell number. He hadn’t asked so I didn’t offer. I knew I lived in a day and age when a girl could get a guy’s number, but I was never comfortable asking. I was old fashioned at heart. I blame that on my parents and my choice of reading material. I wanted the romance, to be wanted, called, even courted, regardless of how outdated the concept was. I didn’t want to be the one making the phone call and asking a guy out. If Joseph wanted to see me, he would call, or come by the library.
Love Everlasting Page 2