“But I put the order in a month ago.”

“Sorry, Sal.  You know how these things work sometimes.” I smile tenderly at the older gentleman.  He’s a regular, comes in at least twice a week with the strangest book requests.  His latest mission is trying to find a priceless first edition of Huckleberry Finn.  I actually did find one, overseas, but getting it here is a whole other story.  I feel for the guy.  I’m sure if I paid five hundred dollars for a book I’d be concerned too.  “Maybe next week.  I’ll call them again tomorrow morning, hows that?”

He sighs, but flashes me a small smile after a moment.  “If it was anybody else I’d be a whole lot angrier, but I can’t be angry with the best book consultant in New York.  I’ll just take my usual order.”

I nod, retrieve it from his designated shelf behind me and hand the pile of books over.  

“What’s the damage?” He asks me, as I find myself eyeing the clock on the wall.

3:11

My palms immediately start to sweat.  “It’s one fifteen forty seven today.”

He slides his charge card.  “How goes that job hunt?”

“It’s going,” I chuckle.  “No openings right now, unfortunately.”

My mother is a semi famous poet, and my father is a professor of English at Boston College.  From the moment I was born, they had destined me for great things, felt that I would grow up to be a famous Pulitzer prize winning author, or a world reknowned professor.  I did neither.  I decided to help people instead, get my degree in Library Science, and try to find work in the New York library system after I graduated.  I’m working on it.  Those jobs are a little hard to find, but I’ve been busy in the meantime.  I work part time at a cute little bookstore on the lower east side of Manhattan, and volunteer at a senior citizen center during my free time.  Sure, it’s not the most exciting life, certainly not the one my parents envisioned for me, but at least I’m independent, and one day...I’ll have a job that they can be semi proud of.  We talk often, and I go home most holidays to spend time with them.

My love life on the other hand, is nothing to write home about.  I was a dork in high school, too busy keeping my nose buried in a book rather than worrying about going out with boys.  Since I moved to New York, I’ve been stood up for most of the dates that have been set up for me, and the ones I’ve been on...

I shudder at the memories.

“Keep at it.” He winks as I bag his books.  “You’re a young, attractive woman. You’ll either land that job or a hunk soon enough.”

“There’s no good men left in this city, but I’ll keep an open mind, Sal.  I’ll call you if the book comes in.”

“Take care sweetie.”

I bid him a goodbye, watch him walk out the door, my eyes lingering after him.  I wish life could be that easy, coming down to a simple book on order.  Unfortunately, my life is anything but at the moment.  With an expensive rent due by the end of next week, and a stack of bills to pay, I won’t be doing much of anything until I can land a better job.  My parents have money, but I don’t ask them for it.  I don’t want to give them another reason to sigh, and ask me why I chose the career pat that I did.

Oh yeah, Mr. Wonderful number seventy thousand stood me up a couple of nights ago to top things off.

I’m done dating.

I’ll just look forward to Fridays at 3:15 instead.  It’s a much safer play.  Sports Fiction guy doesn’t even know I exist, thanks to those earbuds shoved in his ears, and that’s good.  He hasn’t caught me staring.

At least not yet.

“Is he here yet?”

Sandra fixes her hair and her boobs once she’s confident our crotchety manager isn’t lingering nearby.  Determined like never before to have an excuse to say something to the guy, she took the liberty of screwing up the order of every book in his favorite section at the start of her shift today.  Talk about being productive.

“Not yet.” I look up at the clock again.

3:15 on the dot.

“He’s bound to come to the counter today,” she reassures me.  “Then we can get a really good look at him.  You know, make sure he’s not one of those faraway hotties.”

I roll my eyes.

“Es, come on, you know the lighting in here is the worst in New York.  Remember the last guy?”

“He was clearly ugly from across the store,” I laugh.  “You just forgot your contacts that day.”

“My brain is more like it.”

The bell tinkles above the door, and our conversation immediately stops.

I know it’s him right away.  The music is blaring out of those earbuds of his, the volume on his iPod obviously turned up past the safety level.  He never notices though, never glances around to ensure he’s not bothering anybody.  His head bobs in time with the beat, as he blows past us and over to his favorite section of the store, without so much as a glance in our direction.

Three fifteen to four o’clock on the dot, every Friday without fail for three months, he’s graced us with his presence.  He never says a word, never buys a thing, and normally I’d just ignore him...but I can’t.  Something forced me to look over at him from the very first time he came into the shop, and I was hooked ever since.  That first Friday, I stared at him for a good half hour, couldn’t stop, but he never noticed.  He has and seemingly always will be oblivious to his surroundings.

He’s tall, that’s the first thing that caught my attention.  At least six feet.  I like tall guys, because I consider myself to be too tall for a girl at five foot seven and a half.  This guy could easily tower over me if I wasn’t wearing heels, and the other day I found myself buying an expensive pair of dress flats just in case the opportunity ever arose to have dinner with him.

I’m ridiculous, and pathetic.

“I think he got more doable since last week,” Sandra hisses.  “My God, look at those arms.  Those biceps are just...and those cheek bones...mmm.”

“Shh.”

“What do you think he does, seriously?”

“I dunno,” I mumble, as I watch him looking through his normal section of books.  His brow is furrowed, and I’m sure he’s confused about the lack of organization.  Maybe Sandra’s idea will work...

A small smile cracks at the corner of his mouth suddenly, and he pulls a book off the shelf, flipping it open to the place he left off last Friday afternoon.

“Shit.”

“Well he’s not stupid,” I whisper.

“Still, I thought he’d get lazy and ask.  That’s what most men would do.”

“Well he’s not like most, I guess,” I chuckle, but don’t take my gaze away from him.

“I’ll find out what book that is and hide all the copies next week,” she says, devilishly.  “Then he’s bound to talk to us.”

I shrug.  “Or he could pick out a different book.”

“I doubt it.  He’s read that same book with the  blue cover for the past four weeks.  We should make him buy it.  Maude would.”

“Yeah, but are you gonna tell him to buy or scram?”

“Hell no.”

I lean against the counter.  “Well that makes two of us.”

“Anyway, back to the original question, what do you think he does?”

I look at how he’s dressed, like I always do.  Khakis, polo shirt, loafers, black rimmed reading glasses that he only slips on after he settles himself inside our store.  It’s business causal but that doesn’t narrow things down much.  So far Sandra and I have determined that he couldn’t work construction, he’d be dirty.  Couldn’t work in a restaurant, he’d wear more comfortable shoes.  “Maybe he’s just some rich guy that’s going to graduate school.”

“He’d buy the book if he had money.”

I shrug.  “Maybe he’s cheap?”

“He’s too cute to be cheap.”

“Sandra,” I laugh.  “His looks don’t have anything to do with being cheap.  Besides, we already know that he’s waiting on something, or someone.  He stays for exactly forty five minutes, and looks rushed when he leaves.”

“Maybe he’s a gigalo,” she cackles.  “Waiting on his boss to pick him up for his shift.”

A completely inappropriate scenario pops into my mind at the thought.  Me, in fuzzy handcuffs, him, in leathers, straddling me from behind...

I either really need to get laid, or I just have a sick, sick mind.  I shake my head roughly.  “Doubtful.”

She takes in a deep breath, and lets it out slowly as she keeps her gazed fixed on him.  “I can’t wait around anymore.”  She shifts her boobs around again and straightens out her blouse.  “I’m going to talk to him.”

“No...” I grab her arm before she can get two steps away from me.  “He’s in the moment, don’t bother him.”

“In the moment?” She tugs her arm out of my grasp and gives me an odd look.  “It’s a damn book, Esmerelda.”

“He might have a girlfriend,” I warn.  “Maybe that’s who he’s waiting on.”

She shrugs.  “I’ve never seen him with a girl.”

“You don’t see where he goes after he leaves here,” I laugh.  “C’mon Sandra...”

“You know...you’re right,” she says, seeming to forget her mission to go talk to the guy.  “Maybe...oh man, I have the best idea.”

“What.” I grunt it out.  Sandra, while I love her, never has the most brilliant ideas.  She flunked out of NYU her sophomore semester and has been working at this lame ass book store ever since.  She really has no other goals, no drive, no ambition.  She stays here because it’s easy and pays her rent.  At least I’m trying.

“One of us should follow him.”

“We can’t leave,” I scoff.  “Maude would go ape shit.”

“Not tonight.  Next week.  You should ask to leave early and I’ll take the day off.”

“Stalking is illegal in all fifty states.”

Mr. Sports Fiction coughs, clears his throat, but doesn’t take his focus off his reading.  

“It’s not exactly...stalking.  We’d just be walking in the same direction,” Sandra points out.

“I’m not doing that.” I shake my head.  “Let me know how it goes, and please, don’t use your one phone call on me, all right?”

“Wimp.”

“I’d just prefer not to get arrested.”

The bell dings again, and a woman with two children walks into the shop, immediately striking up a conversation with Sandra.  She wants to know about some new books we may or may not have, and so, Sandra comes around the counter to show the customer what she’s looking for, not without letting out a harsh sigh from the loss of her eye candy.  The books she’s been asked to look for are on the second level of the shop.

That means I’ll be left alone with Mr. Sports Fiction.  That’s never happened before.  Sandra has been here every other time.  A small smile pulls at my mouth but I quickly hide it away, try to busy myself with the computer, make it look like I’m actually working.

3:50

Shit, time sure flies.  I hate waiting for Fridays to come around again.  Sometimes, I hope that he’ll just randomly stop by, tell me he can’t take it anymore, that he needs to buy that book.  Of course, I would get it for him, place it into his large, strong hands, tell him to have a nice day.  Then he would pull me into Travel and Leisure, and do me against the bookcase, unbeknownst to the rest of the world.

In another lifetime, anyway.

“Excuse me.”

The music is blaring louder now, and I know...I know he must be right there in front of the counter.  I was looking at the computer screen for the past few moments, and I still am, but I know I need to snap out of it.  His earbuds are out now, hanging down around his neck, and he’s the one staring at me this time.  “Uh...hi...”
r32;

God, he’s anything but a faraway hottie.  He’s gorgeous up close.  Blue eyes that justpierce you, bury themselves deep into your soul you the moment you look into them, tear you all apart inside.  Right now they look a little tired, a little sad, and the stubble under his nose and around his jawline suggests he’s in the middle of twelve different things.  He’s got curly hair, really curly, light brown hair that looks like it’s about to puff out and look all crazy in a few minutes.  It’s this damn humidity.  I bet I could recommend something really great to tame his issue.

Great, now I’m going to be his beautician and his sex slave all in one.

“Do you think you might be able to uh...hold this one for me?”  He slides the book across the counter, and glances at his wristwatch.  It looks old, beat up.  The leather strap is worn and the glass face is a little scratched.  “I didn’t see anymore out there.”

“Um...yes...I can, I think.”

“You think?”

A small smile flashes at me.  It’s perfectly aligned, kind, makes his eyes and entire expression just light right up, forcing the sadness and fatigue away.  Then it all returns as quickly as it left.

It’s the type of expression my mother always gets on her face, when my father tells her he has to go out of town.

Something’s wrong, in his life, and maybe it’s the reason why he’s here every Friday.

But it’s none of my business.

“I mean....”  I take in a small breath and can feel the redness in my cheeks.  “Of course I can hold it.  I just wasn’t sure when you’d be back.”r32;

“Oh, next week, same time,” he nods.

“Sure...” I scramble for a hold form, my hands shaking, my heart beating furiously inside my chest.  I want to ask him everything, force him to tell me his life story right here and now.

3:57, the clock reads.

Crap.  Time’s almost up.

“I just need your name.”

“It’s Justin,” he says quickly.  “Is that all you need? I gotta run.”

He’s inching closer and closer to the door as I scrawl his name down on the slip.  “I...good.”

“Thanks.”

He’s gone in a flash.

Good.

Good?

Good!

Oh my God I’m an idiot.  I could have gotten his number, could have told him that he’s one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and all I could say was Hi, Sure, and Good?

“Was he...did he just come up here?”

Sandra’s back, looking slightly disheveled and very disappointed.

“Yeah,” I laugh softly.  

“Well..what happened? Did you introduce yourself? Is he single? What’s he do?”

“I didn’t exactly...get much out of him.  He just wanted me to put this on hold for him until next week.”  I hold the book up, and force a smile.

“Tell me you got his number at least?”r32;
I shake my head.  “Just his first name.  It’s Justin.”

“You’re useless.  Really, Es.”

“I kind of froze...I don’t know...I didn’t know what to say.”

“You were supposed to either ask him out, or tell him you have somebody you want to set him up with.”

“Sandra.” I narrow my eyes.

“Well at least he’ll have a reason to come to the counter next week, and if a customer comes...you’re taking them.”

I sigh.  I expect that, but really, it’s better this way.  Sandra won’t have a reason to stalk him, and I won’t have another chance to embarrass myself in front of him.  I doubt I’m his type anyway.  I’m not outgoing like Sandra is, not as sexy or put together.  I’m a bookworm, and I doubt that’s him.  He probably plays baseball, since that’s what the book is about, or maybe football.  Probably has a pretty girlfriend and if he doesn’t, Sandra will do nicely.

But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever be able to stop staring at him.  

There’s just something about him.

Justin.

I smile.

Next week I’ll let him know that I have a first name too.

“You’re a hundred short.”

“I know that.”

She lets out a disappointed sigh, and plops down across from me at the kitchen table.  “Well what am I supposed to tell them?”

“Can’t your folks spot it? Just this once?”

“No.”  Her eyes narrow and she sends me an angry glare.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, inhale and exhale, before I continue.  “I’ll get you the rest.  I’ll pick up a shift or call my folks, and give you extra next Friday.”

She shakes her head.  “They already told me, Justin.  They told me no more IOU’s.  What am I supposed to do if they won’t let him come back?  You know how important it is that he goes.”

“Da. Daa. Daaaaa.”

I pick him up and put him on my lap, smiling slightly, before kissing him on the cheek.  “There’s nothing I can do.  I didn’t get that much this week.  Overtime isn’t that easy to come by these days and I have my own bills to cover too.”

“He should come first.  I wish I could put him second but I’m saddled with him.”

“Saddled?” I scoff.  “Do you even know how hard I work so you don’t have to?  So you can go out and party with your fuckin’ girlfriends every weekend while I take care of him?”

“He screams and I don’t know what he needs, because I can’t talk to him!  Hell, if I could afford it, I’d ship him off to that boarding school myself!  But I can’t afford it, because I can’t get a real job, my family still won’t accept him, and you...you just...can’t amount to anything, can you Justin?  Working that stupid job, like you’re going places, while I just...suffer.  I’m tired.  I didn’t ask for this.  I don’t know how much longer I can do it.”  She puts her face in her hands and starts to sob.

Jesus.r32;

“Spare me.  You’ll do it, you’ll try, because it’s not his fault.  It’s ours.”

It takes her a minute to pick her head up and send me a hateful glare.  “You could have used a condom, idiot.  Then we wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

I laugh at her, put my son down, and get up.  “I’m not doing this tonight.  My week has been too long.  Is he ready?”

“His shit is by the door.”

“Then I’ll see you Sunday night.”

She doesn’t say anything, just turns her back on me.

“Tory, I know we’re not together, but we still need to be a team.  He needs us to be one.  If you’d just come to the classes with me...”

“I’m not taking a fucking class, Justin.  I need you to pay for the school, that’s all I ever asked you to do.”

I sigh.  “I’ll see you Sunday.”

She doesn’t say another word.  It pisses me off.  She doesn’t take it seriously, just expects me to handle it so her life can go on, unaffected.  If I didn’t have to work so much, I’d just take him off her hands, but I can’t do that.  I have no family here to help me, and her family, well, that’s another story.  

“Hey Ben.” I crouch down and smile at him as he stands in front of the TV, staring at the cartoons moving around on the screen intensely, and I know he’s trying to figure out what’s going on.  Poor kid.  “Hey.”  I tug on him gently, and eventually he looks at me, smiles, because he loves me.

“You hungry?” I sign out the words as I say them.  I’m getting pretty good at it.  That class is a godsend and I wish I would have started taking it sooner.

He smiles and nods his head rapidly.

“Let’s get a cheeseburger.” I stand up and take his hand that he’s extended out to me.  We walk out of the apartment, not looking back at the miserable woman we leave behind.

Weekends are the best part of everything.  Even though the weeks are hard, the work is grueling, I manage it all somehow for him.  I go to class religiously now, every Friday at two o’clock.  Then at three I get an hour, maybe a little less, to myself before I have to go pick up Ben.  Just to myself from about three fifteen to four o’clock.  It’s solitude, bliss.  Just me, my iPod, and a good book.  I cherish it, use the time to abuse a little bookstore a couple of blocks away from my class.  I never buy a thing, but the girls behind the counter don’t seem to mind.  They let me read for free, and I don’t think they realize how much of a blessing they’ve bestowed upon me.  I certainly don’t have money to be throwing away on a book.

One day though, I’ll be able to buy whatever I want, or so I hope.

My job isn’t shit, it’s just a lot of work for not a lot of pay.  I’m a mail room clerk at the Daily News, and sometimes I do work on the side for a few of the journalists upstairs.  I go over their articles before they submit them to the editor, for a small fee.  Most of the time, I get a smile and a big thank you from the parties involved.  Often, I’m asked why I never went to school for journalism, because I’m a good writer.

But I did go to school.  

Things just...didn’t turn out like they were supposed to.

I met Tory freshman year.  I had my whole life ahead of me, got a scholarship to NYU, left my family behind in Virginia to pursue a new life in New York City.  I was so determined then, convinced that I was going to graduate, go on to win a Pulitzer.

But all I really did was get my girlfriend pregnant, and ruin my chances at a bright, rich future.

Of course, I don’t blame Ben.  I love him more than anything else in this world.  He was just a little unexpected and...the rest of it...the rest of it was really unexpected.  But I’m a smart guy.  I’ve been determined to cope with this thing for the last couple of years, now that Ben is older...now that I understand things better.  I’m doing it.  I have to, because Tory refuses.  I know I’ll make it.

Tory isn’t one to go out of her way.  She would have been fine with raising a normal, healthy child, but not one like Ben.  She has no patience, has no interest in learning to cope with his disability.  It’s too much for her.  I guess...I guess she’s too young.  So am I, but I was raised differently.  My family owns a farm and I grew up with a strong work ethic and compassion for others instilled in me by my parents.

Ben is completely deaf, and has been that way since he was born.  It’s not the end of the world, but it might as well be to her.  She claims she has no time to learn how to sign, but I know that it’s a bunch of shit.  She’s just lazy, and   I guess...angry, that she’s had to sacrifice her social life for a kid with special needs.  We’ve agreed he can’t be left with a sitter.  It wouldn’t be fair to Ben.  He’s scared of strangers.  He can’t communicate with them that well.  That’s what the school is for.  It’s one of the best in the country, but it comes with a hefty price tag.  Of course, in the beginning, before he was born, I told her she had a choice, but she was naive then.  She thought having a kid would be fine, that we’d work it out.  We were together then.

But our relationship quickly fell apart six months after Ben was born.  We both knew he was different, although we weren’t sure why at first.  It put a strain on us that we never came back from.

When they told us what was wrong, I think that’s when things took a drastic turn.  She wasn’t the same, she was making me fucking miserable and her family was too.  They’re rich socialites, who resent me for ‘ruining’ their daughters future.  They refuse to help pay for Ben’s expensive school, and actually, they practically refuse to accept him at all.  My family is a lot different.  They love Ben, send me money when they can, and would love to help out more, but they’re far away, and I’m determined to make things work here in New York, move my way up at the paper and get a real position one day.  Go back to school when I have the money and get my degree finally.

Things are just...slow right now, that’s all.

I take my son down to a diner close by my apartment.  It’s routine.  We’re here every Friday night by six, the latest.  Ruth, an elderly waitress, approaches our booth once we’re seated and smiles down on us.

“Hello, dear,” she says with a bright smile.  “How’s your week?”

“Could be better,” I smile up at her.  “But it could be worse too.”

She nods, her eyes telling me she feels sorry for me, but she’d never say the words.  “And how is Big Ben?” She smiles, ruffles his hair, and gets a smile out of him.  “He’s getting so big.”

“I know.  Five going on twenty five,” I smirk.  “We’ll take the usual, plus a chocolate shake.”

“You got it.”  She winks, as usual, and walks away to get our order.

Ben busies himself by playing with a toy car up on the windowsill and I take the opportunity to pull out an article somebody gave me to edit, and work on that for a few minutes.  I can’t stay focused on it though.  Too much is on my mind, and I’m too tired.  I know what I really need is a good nights sleep.  I don’t sleep well though.  I’m too worried about how I’m going to pay for everything, how I’m going to continue to better my life and my sons life, and deal with Tory and her shit every single week.

It’s enough to drive me insane.

Then I look at my son, and everything seems to just...make sense again.

“Here we go.”  Ruth comes back then, and plants all of the food in front of us.  Ben’s cheeseburger and fries are made up the way he loves, a ketchup smile face and french fries made up to look like hair.  He giggles in that muffled way he does, and it gets me to smile.  

“Thanks.” I give her a grateful smile as she splits up the shake between me and my son.  She rubs my shoulder consolingly, the way only a mother can, and I’m sure she has a few grandkids of her own.  In a way, she reminds me of Gram, and I wish she were here.  I know if she were, things would be a hell of a lot easier.

But she’s not here.

My family has begged me to move home, they tell me that they can take care of us both, but the thing about that is, I know Tory would never let it happen.  Not because of her love for Ben, but because she’s been determined to make my life miserable ever since we found out that our son was deaf.

It’s like she blames me.

And maybe, if I’d been a little smarter, thought about the future, none of it would have happened.  At times, I think...maybe she’s right.  Maybe everything is all my fault.  I didn’t think and now Ben is paying the consequences.

But if I had used my head, I wouldn’t have him at all, and to be honest, if I could go back in time, I’d still make the same choices, because Ben isn’t a regret, or a mistake, or a burden.

He’s my life, and he always will be.

“Manhattan Public is having a girl go out on maternity leave.” I smile brightly, and take a sip of my coffee.  “They say that they’re considering me and a few other people to fill the spot, and that it might be a permanent one.  They’re not sure if this girl is coming back or not.”

“Well praise the lord,” Sandra snorts.  “It’s about time.  What do you have to do to convince them to hire you? Get in somebodies pants?”

I laugh a little.  “Not quite, no.  They’ll hire whoever they feel is the best qualified.  It’s just entry level anyway, but the pay is twice what I make here.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.  One of us should escape this place if we can.”

“Can’t you two find something to do?” Maude scowls from the top of the staircase.  “Other than socialize, I mean?  Fill the bags, organize the shelves.  I don’t pay you girls to stand around all day.”

“She’s on the warrr-path,” Sandra sings, with a roll of her eyes, and ventures out from behind the counter.

At least it’s Friday.  It gets me to smile, as I plop a fresh box of plastic shopping bags on the counter and begin to fill the bin underneath the register.  I eye the shelf behind me as I do it, ensuring the book with the blue cover is still there.  Of course it is.  It’s only the tenth time I’ve checked today.  

Mr. Sports...I mean, Justin...he’ll be here in about an hour.

I can’t wait.  I can hardly contain myself, and I’m praying Maude decides to get out of here before he comes in.  I know if she catches him in here reading and not buying, she’ll chew him out, he’ll leave, and possibly find another place to hang out on Friday afternoons.

Although, if I get this job at the library, I won’t be here on Fridays to stare at him anymore.  But I guess putting my college degree to some good use is more important.

My heart though, it’s telling me to stay here, just for the sake of him.

Every day, when I think about him in the middle of the afternoon for no good reason at all, I get this funny feeling.  A feeling inside of me that’s so strong, telling me to take a chance, to introduce myself, not to miss out...because he might be special.  Different.

I don’t get it, so I chose to ignore the feeling all week.  But now it’s Friday, and I have an hour to prepare for him to walk right in here and out again without embarrassing myself.  I doubt I can do it.  I’ll probably stutter and get all red in the face like last week.

“Hold down the fort,” Maude mutters at ten to three.  “I’m going for a bite.”

“Will do,” Sandra calls to her with a smile as she pretends to dust the tops of the books on the shelves.

Maude just glares, and the bell tinkles when she opens the door.  She holds it open, and smiles tightly for the customer about to enter.

I know who it is before he’s even in the store. I motion to Sandra, and she gets it right away.

The music is blaring from his earbuds as normal, but today he stops at the counter, pulls them out, and smirks quickly at me.  I hate to say it, but he looks more worn out than he did last week.  His eyes are a little bloodshot, and there are the beginnings of those dark circles around them that you can only get when you’re exhausted.

He doesn’t deserve it.  I mean, I don’t know him, but I get that vibe.  Something is telling me that he’s a good person, and should have it easier, but he doesn’t.

“Welcome to Bronson’s,” Sandra says, sauntering up to him.  “How can I be of...service?” She smiles.

Oh God.

Justin eyes her quickly, and then looks back at me with a desperate gaze.  “I think I put...a book on hold.  Last week.”

“You did.” I blurt out, feeling my eyes grow wide as I say the words.  “Do you...do you want it?”

“If it’s okay with you.” He says it very slowly, looking at me, then at Sandra, then back again.  It’s obvious he’s confused as to why we’re paying so much attention to him when we both know damn well he never buys anything when he comes here.  

I pull the book into my hands, and turn back to him.  Sandra is practically groping him by this point.  Her hand is on his shoulder and she’s attempting to make small talk with him, but it’s obvious by the look on his face that he wants nothing to do with her advances.  

Geez.  It’s like he really does just want to come here and read.

This would seem weird to most, but not to me.  I’m obsessed with books.  If I could, I’d spend all my time reading, but then I’d be broke, and homeless.

“I’ll just take the book.”  He steps away from Sandra finally, and flashes her a tight smile.  “I’ll even buy it.”

My eyes widen as I slide it across the counter.  “Buy it?”

He pulls out his wallet and smiles casually.  “Yeah, it’s about time, don’t you think?”

“We don’t mind if you read it here,” Sandra says with a smile.  “You can stay as long as you want, honey.”

I narrow my eyes at her and shake my head.  She stares at me, pouts, but seems to get it.  

“I’ll just...go dust something,” she says gently, and walks away from us.

We’re alone, again, and this time, we have more than just a few minutes.  It’s obvious we’ve scared him off, but it was bound to happen.  He has to understand though, that this is a tired old bookstore.  The only men that come through here are beyond their fifties and on viagra.  “Sorry about...that,” I manage a smile as I begin to ring up the book.

He shrugs.  “It’s fine.  I know you two have been staring at me for months.  I just figured it was better to pretend I didn’t notice.  Money’s been kind of tight, so...thanks for letting me get away with the reading.”

My jaw hangs open for several minutes.  He knew? Wait...of course he knew.  How could he not?  Still, I feel my face burning with intense embarrassment.  “Thirteen fifty,” I croak.

He hands me a twenty.  “Please don’t be embarrassed,” he laughs.  “It was actually kind of cute.  Nobody has ever taken that much of an interest in me before.”

I just nod. I swear, I’ll never live this down.  If I felt I was pathetic before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel right now.  I put the book in a bag.  “Thank you for shopping with us.  Come again.”

He laughs at me, and clutches the bag in his right hand.  Now he’s staring at me again, like he did last week only now...he’s smiling instead of frowning.  “Maybe you can help me with something else, since I have your undivided attention.”

I swallow.  “Maybe.”

“Do you have any books about sign language?”

“A whole section.” I say, in disbelief.  Of all the things...

“Would you mind showing me...uh...” He leans in and peers at my name badge.  “Esmerelda, wow, that’s different.  Family name?”

“My mom went through a victorian romance novel phase while she was pregnant with me.  She named me after her favorite character.”

He chuckles.  “Seriously?”

I frown.  It’s the first time I’ve actually been able to hold some kind of conversation with the guy, and all I’ve told him is the embarrassing story of how I got my first name.  “Seriously.  So do you want to see the books?”

“Yeah, please.  I promise, I plan on buying something.”

The section is upstairs, in the back.  Secluded.  God.  Oh God.  I step out from behind the counter and stand beside him for a moment.  As if it wasn’t bad enough that he’s so incredibly handsome, he smells amazing too.  “It’s upstairs.”  I glance at Sandra.  She may as well be holding pom poms because she has a fist raised in the air, telling me to go for it.

Justin notices that I’m staring behind him, and glances back over his shoulder, but Sandra pretends to go back to her dusting before he can catch her.

“It’s this way.”  I say it quietly, as I move past him and start up the stairs.  I hear him following behind me, his breath in my ear.  He’s so close, and I feel like I might just fall apart on the staircase, but somehow I manage to get myself to the upper level of the book shop.  I take a minute, collect myself, before moving forward and guiding him towards the back of the department where Maude houses the Braille and other special needs literature.  “Something particular you need?” I say, as I point towards the appropriate shelves.  “A certain title?”

“Well...” He trails off and surveys the selection.  “This one, I’ve heard about.”  He pulls out The American Sign Language Dictionary, and begins to thumb through it.  “I can take this and, on the off chance you have anything for kids.  Any type of story books that use sign.”

It’s cute.  He must know somebody who has a deaf son or daughter and is trying to do something nice for them.  Or maybe, he’s a teacher.  God, a special education teacher.  That makes him even hotter.  Helping the community, like I help the senior citizens.  Maybe we have more in common than I thought.

Although, something inside is telling me his life might be a little more complicated than that.

“Here’s some.”  I crouch down and pull out a special edition of Corduroy and one other Curious George title.  “Is this the right age level?  We might have more...”

He crouches down beside me, and when I look at him, I see that smile again.  The one he rarely shows.  It’s the biggest I’ve seen, and when he opens it up and thumbs through, it grows even wider.  It means a lot to him, this stuff.  I know that now.

“This is great,” he says, almost in disbelief.  “I mean, I figured they had stuff like this but I never would have thought to look for it.  I read to him, but he doesn’t understand.  Now he will, so thanks.”

We both rise up from the floor at the same time.  “Glad to help.  Who is it for...a student or something?  Do you teach?”

He laughs a little, and presses his lips together before looking down at the floor.

Did I say something wrong?

“No, I don’t teach,” he says after a moment, looking up at me again.  “My son is deaf.”

“Oh...”

Idiot.  Way to pry into the guys life.

Guess he’s not single after all, but really, why would he be?  Look at the guy.

“It’s fine,” he smiles.  “It’s not a big secret or anything.”  He glances at his watch suddenly, like he usually does when he’s here.  “Anyway, I better get going.  He’s waiting on me.”

“Oh...yeah...right.” I laugh stupidly.  “Sorry.”

I lead us back down the stairs, and my eyes widen when I find Sandra standing there, her attempts at eavesdropping on our conversation more than obvious.  I motion for her to get out of the way before Justin can see her, and she does it.

“Thanks again for everything,” he tells me, as I finish ringing up the rest of his purchase for him.  “Ben and I are eternally grateful.”

“Anytime.”

“Maybe I’ll see you next week?  Same time.”

“I should be here.”

“Cool.  See you around.”

He walks out, and all I can do is stare after him.

“Is it just me, or was he like, totally into you, Esme?”

I roll my eyes and go back to bag filling.  “He’s just a nice guy.  He’s not single anyway.  He has a son.”

“Just because he has a son doesn’t mean he’s taken.”

“Come on.”  I narrow my eyes.  “If you had a son with a man like that would you let him go?”

“No way, but you don’t know the circumstances.  I say you should pry into it more next week.”

“No.  No way.  That’s intrusive.  You saw how freaked he got when you decided to be little miss flirt.”

She shrugs.  “It was innocent fun.  It’s obvious he hasn’t had any in a long time.  That right there should prove that he’s not with anybody.”

“His son is deaf,” I tell her, even though I shouldn’t have.  “Maybe they don’t have time for that.”

“There’s always time for sex, honey.”  She comes back behind the counter.  “Trust me, he’s not with anybody, and if he is, the relationship is on the outs.  Pursue it, before you get that fancy job and never see him again.”r32;

“I don’t even know him.  I can’t just go after him.  I’m not like you.”

“He doesn’t want somebody like me.” She puts a hand on my shoulder.  “He’s different, not my type.  He’s got that bookworm, intellectual shit going on, just like you do.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No honey...just not for me.” She smiles.  “Take my advice.  Next Friday...the two of you should go off and have a coffee.  I’ll cover for you.”

“I don’t know...”r32;
“Well I’m not giving you a choice.”

“Really,” I smirk.  

“I can embarrass the hell out of you. Don’t forget that,” she reminds me.  “I know all kinds of crazy shit about you.”

I let out a long breath.  I know she’s right and I know she’ll do it.  The last thing I want is to be humiliated in front of the guy again.

I guess I don’t have a choice, but at the same time, I don’t think I’m Justin’s type either, even if Sandra, relationship guru, is convinced otherwise.

Inviting her here tonight was random, very unlike me.  Since Tory and I split five years ago, I’ve had exactly three dates, all of which went very badly.  In fact, I know how bad tonight could go too, so I’ve decided to keep things simple, basic.  I’m leaving the end of next week, and can’t afford any regrets.  I should have called her, told her this whole thing was a bad idea, that I can’t afford to get close to anybody right now.

But as many times as I picked up the phone to call the store, I just couldn’t do it.  Something wouldn’t let me.

I guess it’s because I like her.  I can’t help myself, can’t shake the feeling off.  Something just hit me, the very first time I laid eyes on her.  It was a sign, telling me that it was okay to lose myself in her every Friday afternoon.  That it was safe, because she was different.

It’s the only reason I’ve decided to go through with tonight, because I can see us being friends, if nothing else.  

It would be nice to have an email friend, outside of the dozens of people awaiting me back home.  There’s my family of course, but then there’s all my friends too.  There’s a whole group of us, eight in total.  Out of everybody, I’m the only one who got out of Wytheville and tried to make something out of himself.  The rest of the them went to state college, and most of them work on their families farm now, or in town.  I know they’re excited to see me, especially Lacey.  She’s gotta understand though, that what we had was a high school romance and nothing more.

But I guess you never forget the first person you ever loved, and I admit, I still think about her every now and then.  She’s been engaged twice since she graduated college, and for some reason those relationships never worked out for her.

I guess we have that one thing in common.  We suck at holding a relationship together.

Our families are close.  I wonder how long it will take before they’ll all start plotting to get us back together.

I’m going to run and hide the minute that starts happening.  I have no interest in her.  None.

This is about Ben, after all.  I’m making this move for him.  There’s no room for a relationship.  I’m going to concentrate all of my efforts on working hard, saving money, so we can get back on our feet.  Maybe, one day, we’ll be able to get a place of our own, and I won’t have to break my back doing farm work forever.

My father and I have always had a good relationship, but he’s a lot different when it comes to working for him, even if I am his son.  I already know how it’s going to work.  He’ll let me settle in for a few days, get Ben situated, but after that he’ll expect me to get up at 4:30 every morning to start work.  We spoke on the phone briefly the day after I broke down and called my mom.  He says he wants me to do the tractor runs in the fields after the morning routine.  That means six or seven hours in the hot sun, every day over the summer, on a hot piece of machinery, with nobody to talk to.  It’s one of the things I hated the most when I was in high school, and he’s forcing me into it again because he knows I don’t have a choice.  Arguing would only force him to point out that he’s doing me a favor.

I’ll just have to suck it up, for the good of my son.

“Da...da-ad.”

They’ve been helping him with some of his words at school.  I’m concerned at the new school they won’t work as well with him.  He’ll go back to incomplete phrases and babbled mumblings that nobody can understand.  I don’t let it show on my face though.  Since my breakdown at the diner, I’ve forced myself to get it together, to be stronger for my son.  I smile and pull him into my arms when he runs up to me with that proud smile of his, not hesitating to kiss him on the forehead and cheek.  

Then the doorbuzzer goes off, telling me there’s somebody downstairs waiting to be let up by me.

It’s gotta be her.

I put my son down, and sign out ‘our guest is here.’  He gets excited, goes to his chair at the table and patiently waits for dinner to begin.  It’s new and different for him, because we never have company over here.  It’s good that I’m doing it.  It will get him used to life in Wytheville, where there are always people coming and going from the house.  

“Hello?” I call through the intercom.

“Is this Justin? I don’t know if I have the right apartment.”

I laugh.  “No, I’m the serial killer a floor down.  Come on up.”

I hear her giggle as I buzz her in, and a few minutes later she’s knocking on my door.

When I open it, I see a woman I barely recognize.  She’s not in her usual get up.  I’ve always seen her in jeans and a casual top.  Tonight she’s in a skirt and a cute little tank.  She’s curled her usually straight, ponytailed hair.

And she looks amazing, even though I can’t tell her that.

“Hi.”  

I’m sure my expression is giving those feelings away.  I feel the color in my cheeks, and I can’t seem to stop staring.

“Hey.”  

We stand there for a moment, smiling stupidly at each other.  This feeling rushes through me, telling me that...that this is right.  That she’s right.

But I can’t stay here.  Ben has to come first.

“Sorry, come on in.” I laugh slightly and step aside, allowing her into the apartment.  “It’s not much.”

She looks around the studio quickly, before spotting my son sitting at the small dinner table, and signs out a hello to him.  “It’s good enough for what it is, Justin.  You don’t need to impress me.”

I just shrug.  “Must be those instincts that my parents drilled into me.  My father always says, if you don’t think your place is suitable for a lady, man up and take her out.”

I sound like a doofus.

“Sounds like a good guy.”  She takes a seat at the table next to my son.  “But in this city, you’re lucky to be able to afford rent at all.”

“You’re right.”  I nod and go over to the counter, so I can fix her a plate.  “Ben already ate, he’ll go down soon, but I waited for you.”

“Well thank you,” she laughs.  

I smile slightly at her when I finish putting together the two dinner plates, and carry them over to the table, placing one in front of her.  “All I have is water.  Sorry.”

“That’s fine.”

I pour us both glasses from the pitcher in the fridge, and finally, get a couple of cookies from the small jar and give them to Ben for his dessert before presenting her with her glass of water.  We all eat in silence for several moments.  Well, it’s more like I’m watching her eat.  Watching as her tongue glides over her lipsticked lips as she savors my meatloaf.  It really is the only thing I can cook well, thanks to my mother.  

“So um...”  Esmerelda begins awkwardly after a long sip of her water.  “When are you leaving?”

“End of next week.”  I pop some food into my mouth.  “We’re flying.”

She nods.  “I’m sure the move will be for the best.”

I shrug, look down at my food and push it around with my fork.  “It’s not like I have a choice.  Anyway...enough about my situation.  What about you?  All I know is your name,” I chuckle.  “Your first name.”

“Oh...” The color rises to her cheeks, and she smiles.  “Well, my last name is Warton.  I grew up in Boston.  My dad teaches English at Boston College, and my mom is a poet.  I went to NYU for Library Science, even though my parents wanted me to do something else.  I could have done anything, but I wanted to help people.  My senior year of high school I did a lot of volunteer work, and felt it was my calling.”

“That’s noble.  Nobody should hold it against you.”

“Well, my parents don’t really but...they always throw those subtle little hints at me, about their slight disappointment.  I let it roll off my shoulders though, especially now that I’ve gotten this job.  If I stay with the library long enough, my salary will grow.  I’d like to be director of a library one day.”

“Great.  So when I write my Pulitzer you’ll have me in for a reading or something, right?”

“Naturally.  I’ll put a big sign out front like they have for my mothers book signings.  Justin....oh...wait, I don’t know your last name either,” she laughs.

“It’s Timberlake,” I smile.  

“Justin Timberlake,” she sighs out.  “It has book cover potential.”

“I don’t know,” I smirk.  “Maybe one day, when he can take care of himself, I’ll be able to write that novel that’s been on the back burner for a couple of years.”

“You shouldn’t stop writing,” she says seriously.  “My mom almost did that after I was born, but she kept at it.  If she hadn’t, I doubt she would have a career right now.”
r32;“Your mom is a poet?” I ask her, the last name suddenly ringing a bell.  

“Tabitha Warton.  She’s written a couple of dozen poetry books.  A few of them have made the best sellers list.”

I slide my chair out excitedly, go to the bookcase across the studio where I keep all the books I own, running my fingers over the bindings until I find what I’m looking for.  I stare at the thing in disbelief.  I’m not big on poetry, but I picked this up one day and I couldn’t put it down.  Now I’m sitting here with the authors daughter, and realize what makes her so different.  “This book is probably in my top two.”  I sit back down and put it face up on the table top.  “This is your mothers work?”

She slides it closer to her and laughs slightly.  “It is.  Wow.  Here I was thinking only little old ladies read this stuff.”  She flips through the pages and stops on one randomly.  “Come to my door, call my name.  Come to my bed, shake me awake.  As the morning sky yawns, as the birds chirp away, as you’ve done, a countless times before.  Stand still, please don’t leave.  Let me have my fill of your face.”

She closes the book and takes a small breath.

“That’s a good one.  I read that one a lot,” I tell her.

She laughs slightly.  “Want to know what it’s about?”

“Sure.”

“Well you’ve read it all the way through, I suppose.”

“Of course.”

“It’s about the way she feels every time my father goes away on his business trips.  We’ve both known for years that they’re not for business, but for some reason she’s still with him.  The funniest thing is, she won a ton of awards for that one poem.”

Her life isn’t so picture perfect either.  Again, it’s one more thing we have in common.  “Why does she put up with it?”

She shrugs.  “I guess she loves him too much to leave him.”

It’s silent again.  She goes back to eating, and I push my food around the plate, my appetite suddenly gone.  I look over at Ben, and see the chocolate all over his face from the cookies.  “Messy boy.” I smile for him and sign it out as I say it.  “Sorry let me just get him cleaned up.”

Esmerelda finally looks up and notices what’s happened.  She smiles and laughs.  “He certainly knows how to put it away.”

“He’s got his fathers appetite,” I call back to her, as I take him over to the sink.  I wet a cloth and wipe his face as he scrunches up his nose.

“When did you know...that he was completely deaf?”

“They told us right after he was born.”

“His mother didn’t take it well, I guess?”

I finish wiping Ben’s mouth and sign for him to go get his pajamas on, which he does without a fight tonight, and I’m thankful.  Normally, he hates being told that he has to go to bed, but with a guest his mood is a little different.

 “Tory was never into working hard, at anything.  We met my freshman year at NYU, and I liked her because she was that typical party girl I could mess around with on the weekends.” I smirk, and take my seat at the table again.  “Then we found out she was pregnant.  We tried to make it work, but she was making me miserable, so I said I would move out, and give them money to live on so she could stay with Ben.  I had to drop out of school, and get a job in the mailroom at the Daily News.  It wasn‘t the journalist job I wanted, but I was still exposed to the industry, so I wasn’t completely let down.  It worked up until this year.  She got tired of missing out on her social agenda for Ben’s sake, and decided to give him to me for good.  I signed the custody papers a few days ago, and...I guess that’s the end of Tory in his life.”

“That’s....horrible.” She says sadly, looking me in the eyes.  

I shrug.  “I was upset for a couple of days, but you know...this is for the best.  He won’t be exposed to her, and she won’t be able to rub off on him, you know?  I’d rather him have the same values instilled in him that were instilled in me, and my parents can help with that.”

“You’re a great dad to him, Justin,” she says softly.

I shrug.  “Thanks, but if it weren’t for my parents, I wouldn’t be all that great.  He’d have to start going to public deaf education, and those are always overcrowded.  I wish I could have been a little more successful, gotten a better job, so we could stay.”

“It’s New York City.  Everything is too expensive.”

“Yeah. I guess so.  It’s not just the money...I mean, I just met you...now I’m leaving.”

She stares at me with that disbelief in her eyes that she’s so famous for.  I don’t get it.  She’s a pretty girl, who has a good head on her shoulders.  Why aren’t guys lined up around the block to date her?  

“We should keep in touch then,” she finally decides.  “Emails and...maybe phone calls.  I still feel like we barely know each other.”

“That’s because we don’t,” I smile.  “But long distance things almost never work out.”

She shrugs.  “We’re friends.”

“Yeah.”

We stare at each other, and suddenly, I’m walking towards her, forgetting to listen out for Ben, not concerned that he might catch the two of us in the moment.  Then I reach her, she seems frozen in place, and when I extend my arm, touch her face, I can feel her tremble a little.  “When’s the last time you did this?” I whisper.

“Did what?”

“Enjoyed somebody else’s company?”

“I can’t remember,” she croaks.

“Me either.”

Our lips touch.  I taste a hint of vanilla on her lips, savor the feeling of her smooth, silky skin under my finger tips.  A warm, comforting feeling fills me up inside as her hands pull my face down closer to hers, allowing the kiss to deepen.  This isn’t playful fun, something to keep us occupied.  This is more.  There’s emotion behind this kiss.  So much emotion, even though we’ve only just met.

And I’m leaving.

I pull back, and when I glance to the side, I see my son standing there in his striped footed pajamas, holding his prized teddy under his arm, staring at us like he doesn’t know what to think.

Idiot. You’re an idiot.

“I’m um...”  She trails off and runs a hand through her curly hair.  “I...I should go.”

“You don’t have to go.  I shouldn’t have...I mean...”

“You’re leaving.  It’s a bad idea.”

She’s right.  If we let this escalate tonight, somebody will get hurt, I’m sure.  Neither of us can afford that right now, either.

I know I have to let her go.

This just sucks, all around.

“Here...”  She goes back to the table quickly and picks up her mothers poetry book.  “Do you have a pen?”
r32;

I scramble for one, and give it to her with a trembling hand before I go pick my son up from the floor.  He stares at me as if to say ‘what are you doing, daddy?’

Daddy doesn’t know.

“I’m leaving you my email and phone number,” she tells me, as she writes on the inside cover of the book.  “Let’s write, okay?  And you can call me whenever you get a chance.”

I smile for her, but I know the reality.  It will hurt me too much to keep in contact with her like she wants.  We’ll be too far away, and I won’t be able to afford to come see her.  I also know hell would probably freeze over before she came to visit a town like Wytheville.

“Yeah, okay.” I nod.

“Thanks for dinner.”  She puts the book down once she’s finished, and picks up her purse from the place she left it.  Then she opens the door, ready to let herself out.  “Good luck, Justin,” she says, before signing the same thing to Ben, who signs out a thank you.

I can barely look at her.  “Good luck.”

The door closes, and I feel my heart sink down into the bowels of my soul.  It’s strange but I feel like I’ve just had something important ripped away from me.  Like I let an opportunity pass me by, an amazing one.  I’ve only felt this way one other time in my life...when I dropped out of school.  But what can I do?  I have a child to take care of, and there’s nothing I can do to change that.

Just like my writing, Esmerelda the Librarian will have to be put on the back burner now.

Probably forever.

“Da-ad.”

I smile, and kiss him.  

Back to reality.

"All the praise it’s received is just...so unbelievable.  How does it not go to your head?  They say you may sell more than Fifty Shades in the coming months."

“I guess I’m just humble, you know...I never had much growing up or after high school.  I was a college drop out with a kid to feed, and writing was sort of a vice for me.  My grandmother always told me to keep writing and to never stop.  I think that if you live your life as a regular joe, when something like this happens to you, you’re able to keep your ego in check.  Well, that, and my girlfriend would make me sleep on the couch if I started to act like the king of the fiction world....”

“You’re right.  I totally would.  Smart boy.”  I smile at him, and flick off the television, as he squeezes my thigh, and I kiss him on the mouth.

“Twelve weeks at number one, and Raegan says I’m not going anywhere,” he smirks.  “I need you to keep my ego in check.”

“Are you kidding? He needs me to keep his ego in check,” I laugh.  “Good thing he’s got his hands full with Sandra.  That woman runs him ragged, but you know, I think it’s for the best.  He doesn’t have time to get drunk and do all the raunchy stuff he used to.”

“Better him than me.  That girl tried to seduce me in a bookstore.”

“I got to you first,” I smirk.

“You did, huh?”  He smiles and pulls me closer to him, before giving me another deep, passionate kiss.  “How’d I get so lucky?”

“You put your book on hold with the right lady.”

“That I did.”

It’s been a whirlwind, ever since Justin was able to move back here with me.  After we were moved into the new apartment, Raegan got right down to work with Justin on his book.  I was there for him everyday, looking after Ben when he really couldn’t.  I would bring him to school, and pick him up, on the condition that the three of us would always be able to sit down to dinner together each other.  For the most part, Raegan allowed him to hold up that end of the bargain, except for release week, but I gave that to him.  

The book has been accepted so well by the public.  Its first week on the market, we sold two hundred thousand hard copies, double that for ebooks.  Memoirs shot to number one on the New York Times best seller list, and a huge book tour followed along with multiple radio and talk show interviews.  Justin was reluctant to pull Ben from school for it, but after much discussion on the subject, we decided it was the best thing.   He’s more like my son now, than anything, and when Justin and I get married, I have every intention on adopting him.  

The tour did Ben good.  He was able to experience parts of American he wouldn’t have seen otherwise, and the three of us got to bond as the family we wanted to be.  It was during the second month of that book tour that Justin put a ring on my finger, and even though we hadn’t been together a full year, I knew it was the right move.  There was nobody else out there for me, Esmerelda the librarian turned assistant to the biggest book agent in America, and there was nobody else out there for Justin, the country bumpkin who was beyond the small town life.

We were made for each other.  That’s what everybody says, anyway.

Sandra is proud.  Proud of me for taking a risk for once, for going after a feeling that wouldn’t go away.  She’s also thankful to me, for bringing Raegan into her life.  Like I said, she was just what he needed.  She was spunky enough for the raunchy side of him, but sentimental enough to calm him down and bring out his true emotions.  He’d never say it, but he loves her more than anything, and I’m sure once enough time passes, he’ll put a ring on her finger too.

My parents are excited that I’ll be getting married, they like Justin too, and my mom has been very excited that I’ve decided not to work in a library after all.  Although, once all this book hoopla dies down I fully intend on volunteering at one, starting a program that involves Ben’s school and another senior book club.  I may have a much different life now, but I’ll always have a passion for helping people.  

As for Justin’s family, they’ve started to come around.  He’s doing a book signing tomorrow, in Wytheville, as part of the promotion, and his whole family is coming out.  His mother and I have talked, like Justin told me we would one day.  It’s been all phone calls, but I know we both feel better about the situation now than we did originally.  She really is a great lady, it just took her awhile to understand her son.  Until this year, I don’t think anybody in his family did, his father most of all.

He’ll be the hardest to crack, but he’s coming to the signing and we’re all having supper afterward.  Justin says its a good sign.  That when his father wants to have a classic family supper it means he’s accepted the way things are.  Finally, all of that aggression that’s existed between them will be put to rest.

I can’t wait.  I can’t wait for him to just be able to live his life without all of that on his shoulders.  He loves his family, and all he’s ever wanted was for them to accept him, and lately...me.

“You think I’ll get my Pulitzer one day?” Justin asks, the longing apparent in his eyes.

“I think so,” I smile.  “You just have to find the right kind of inspiration.”

“Oh, I already have it,” he says, with a sly smile.  “I want to write about this guy...how he used to stare at this girl every Friday afternoon, praying that she’d get the guts up to say hello, since he was too timid.”

“Sounds familiar,” I smile.

“Maybe I’ll call it Fridays, Three Fifteen.”

“Sounds relatable.  Very bookshelf intriguing.  The dollar signs are sparking in my brain.”

“Okay, Raegan,” he laughs.  “You know, the girl in the book...she saved that guys life.  She went chasing after him, even though he was too stupid to keep in touch.”

“Sounds like a smart girl,” I giggle.

“The smartest.”  He kisses me and stares back into my eyes.  “I love you, Esmerelda the Librarian.”

“I love you too, Mr. Sports Fiction.”

The End