“Of course. That’s what we all do in Chicago. Every single day. And we ride those tour boats on the river.”
“Perfect. Just like I imagined.”
“We’re trying to get pregnant,” Greg said.
“Oh. Okay. How’s that—going?”
“So far, nothing but practice,” he said.
“When did you decide you wanted kids?”
“I always wanted kids. Then in January or February, Katie started talking like she might want to have one or two after all. I never pressured her or anything, but, you know, I was pretty excited. We both got physicals done, made sure we’re in good shape. So now we count days and she pees on ovulation sticks and we time everything.”
“Like how fast you can get it up?” I laughed.
“No. What days we’re allowed to have sex.”
“So its—the opposite of fun,” I said. “I thought trying meant you had a bunch of sex and hope for the best.”
“That’s not actually how science works, man.”
“You’re the one that went to college, not me, bro,” I said.
I thought about it, my brother and sister-in-law with a kid. A little niece or nephew to spoil. I’d pretty much love that, and I’d be going to Chicago a lot more often once they had a baby. It felt exciting, but a little bittersweet.
“You know Mom will be thrilled to have a grandbaby. She may move in with you.”
“Don’t you think Dad would have something to say about that?”
“I don’t know if anyone could stop her,” I chuckled.
9
Michelle
Monday afternoon, I was racking returns for my volunteer to shelve when Drew showed up at the reference desk. I felt that same thrill run through me when I inhaled that spicy cologne and the hint of motor oil that he always smelled like.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked. “I mean—can I help you with something?”
“I did learn how to read,” he teased. “I wanted to know if you have any books on repairing electric and hybrid cars.”
“I’ll check the computer, but I’m not sure we do. We’re a little behind the curve on tech here, and the budget’s stretched thin.”
“I’m looking to expand into working on hybrids and full electric vehicles. It seems like it’s the trend, and before I take classes on how to fix them, I want to build a knowledge base. Teach myself how to fix certain things first. And I don’t just trust YouTube to teach me everything.”
“I see. It looks like there are a couple of newer books in our library system that I can put on hold for you and they’ll be here Wednesday or Thursday.”
“I’ll be glad to pay for them.”
“No, you won’t have to. They’re interlibrary loans. We borrow them for free. You get them for two weeks, and you can renew twice before I have to send them back.”
“What if I want to keep one of them?” he teased.
“Then order it off Amazon,” I said. “Or the independent bookstores online. I like to order from indies, support the mom and pop bookstores instead of lining the billionaire’s pockets,” I said. “There, I put in the order for them. Somebody will give you a call when they come in.”
“Don’t you need my number?” he said.
I felt a heavy blush steal across my face. He was not offering to give me his number, he was leaving his number at the library’s circulation desk to be notified of the arrival of his interlibrary loan. I wanted to kick myself again.
“Do you have a library card? If so, the number’s in the system.”
“I should have one on file. I came in one time last year and signed up.”
“Okay. I don’t remember.”
“You weren’t here,” he said. “I remember that.”
I wondered if he waited to come in at a time I wasn’t working so he didn’t have to deal with me. I felt a pang at the thought. I remembered the heavy slant of his handwriting, the way he gripped a pen, and my mouth went dry. He was always intense in his concentration and I had benefited from that more than once. Being under his hands, under his gaze had been the most perfect thing in my life.
“Thanks,” he said, and turned to go. I was digging my nails into my palm. I wanted to call to him, make him come back. I guess so I could sit awkwardly on my wheelie chair and not know what to say for a little while longer and smell his cologne and eat my damn heart out.
Then he turned around, “Hey, would you want to go grab a beer with me sometime after work?”
I stared at him.
“I’d really like to talk,” Drew said. “Tomorrow at seven?”
“Sure,” I said, blurting it out before I could think about it. “I get off work at seven. So 7:15.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Then he walked out of the library and left me wondering what the hell I just agreed to. Were we going out to catch up like old friends? Going on a date? I didn’t want to reminisce about old times with him—reminiscing would lead to two possible outcomes: homicide or orgasms and I didn’t have the time or bandwidth to deal with either one.