he no longer loves me … he was going to kiss me in the spot that was only ever ours.
That wasn’t the action of a man who couldn’t stand to look at me. Or one who had nothing to tell, nothing to feel.
I’d waited long enough. It was time for answers.
And either they were going to be the kind that would reunite us …
Or they’d be the kind that helped me move on from the only man I’d ever loved.
10
Lily
Books have a smell impossible to duplicate.
The musk of an old story, of crisp paper and black ink. The leather scent of bindings and all the hidden traces mingled in there. The chocolate one reader swiped onto a page with her thumb because the romance novel was paired with a good box of truffles. The soda spilled onto the cover of a classic children’s novel. The scent of roses or lavender candles or a delicious pot of chili …
Yes, the stories inside were wonderful, but the scent of a physical book told so many tales too. It told the story of the reader who’d loved the journey of the characters, and what that person had been doing while they’d devoured it.
That was only part of the reason I loved spending my day among the stacks. Besides being born a bookworm, and feeling most comfortable surrounded by my favorite stories, I simply love the research aspect of my job.
Helping readers discover the book their heart is asking for, helping students find what non-fiction work would best support their essays, helping anyone decide which text was best for their project or next read … that was my happy place.
It was like being a matchmaker, but for books. And with books, no one ever got hurt. There was always love in the end, even if there wasn’t a happily ever after. Books never stopped calling, they didn’t act like a jerk, and they certainly were there in all times of need.
Yeah, I’d rather spend time with my favorite characters than people any day of the week.
“Miss Grantham, can you help me find … uhhh …”
An adorable little girl stands before me, her blond bangs falling in front of her eyes as she tries to read the list her teacher must have handed out. She can’t be more than eleven; I’ve gotten good at guessing ages in this job.
I smile, putting out my hand. “Here, let me see if I can’t take a look.”
The student looks up at me with gratitude and an innocence only afforded at that age. She’s not a teenager yet, there is no hint of an attitude and the girl looks more excited to read than annoyed at her school project. I love the children at this stage, because they’re genuinely happy to learn, instead of hostile when it comes to homework … like she’ll probably be in two or three years.
Looking down at the list, I realize she’s supposed to pick her book for summer reading, and that’s when I realize this will start happening more frequently. It’s almost the last week of school, and teachers in elementary and middle school will want to talk to their students about what required reading they’ll be enjoying over the summer, to carry them into the next grade.
The high schoolers have their lists and tend to read on Kindles, or worse, just watch the movie.
But I love helping the fifth and sixth graders most. Because they’re excited about the books, and they have a little bit of freedom. They get to choose which two books they’ll read, from a list of some of my favorites.
“Hmm, well, what kind of books do you like to read?” I ask her.
I know which books on this list I’d recommend, but I never want to sway someone walking into my library. While I want young readers to branch out, I also want them to continue reading and enjoy it. Taking their favorite books into account will only further their love for them and will provide the basis to make them lifelong story feasters.
She bites her lip and looks down, one shoelace untied. “Well … I liked A Wrinkle in Time. And Tuck Everlasting. But my favorite is Harry Potter … my mom and I are reading the first book together at night.”
Hmm, so she likes fantasy. Some magic, some sci-fi … and Tuck Everlasting has some romance in there. But overall, this little lady has some great taste.
I walk around the counter and crouch to her level