The Nice Guy Next Door (When In Waverly 1) - Page 7

The woman simply holds up her hand to stop my talking and says, “I will let it slide this once. Do not let it happen again. I do not tolerate unprofessionalism.” She walks away to her office in the back of the building, and the room breathes a collective sigh of relief.

A woman with a kind face and a very pregnant belly waddles over to me. “Hi, I’m Tess. I’m going to be orienting you to take over my position this week, and then I’m out to have this baby and live the life of a stay-at-home mom,” she says with a dreamy smile on her face.

She takes me around the library to show me how everything is organized. The children’s section is open and colorful. There are bean bag chairs, a reading tent, puzzles, coloring pages, a train table, and shelves and shelves of blessed books. Next, she takes me to the room we use for story time. There are crafts made of paper, cardboard, and colorful streamers scattered along the walls.

Tess sighs and says, “There’s not a whole lot to do in this town, so story time is quite the event for the preschoolers.”

“Are you going to miss it?” I ask.

“I will. But I want to be home with my kids. This is my second,” she says. She rubs her belly like she’s caressing her baby. “Do you have any kids?”

“No, but I am my sister’s guardian. She’s ten years younger than me.”

“Oh, a teenager. Bless you. I dread the day my girls are teenagers,” says Tess. Her eyes are wide. She must be imagining something horrible involving short shorts and boys.

“It’s really not bad. She’s a sweet girl…usually,” I say to ease some of her terror. I do refrain from mentioning her snarky comments and angst from this morning, however, and her refusal to talk to me as I followed her inside the school office to sign her in. I will be surprised if she talks to me this afternoon. Truthfully, it has been ten months with Lo, and I still don’t have a clue what I’m doing.

My dad did great with her. She’s mature for her age, she works hard at school, and she’s kind—excluding that sarcastic sense of humor. I’m worried that I’m going to screw her up. What if I negate all of the work my father did with my fumbling around. Because that’s what I’m doing: fumbling through parenting. Should I even be calling what I’m doing parenting? Probably not. It has been more like a trial-and-error experiment. Somehow, I’ve managed to skate by without any major ordeals, but I’m constantly waiting for everything to fall apart.

“Yes, the look on your face is very convincing,” Tess says. She laughs and then drags me over to what will be my desk. She logs into the computer and shows me how to order new books, the card catalog system, all of the spreadsheets, the schedule of events, etc. It’s a lot of information to absorb in one morning, and my mind is scrambling to keep up. There’s no way I’ll be able to do all of this by myself by next week.

“You look a little shell shocked,” Tess says. She places a hand on my shoulder and continues, “Don’t worry, the girls at the circulation desk know how to do a lot of this too. They’ll be happy to help you.” She calls over a fresh-faced young woman who can’t be more than twenty.

“Hi, I’m Millie. It’s my first day,” I tell her, which is unnecessary. They all know exactly who I am. She laughs a little, but it’s a kind laugh. I already know that the two of us will be great friends—and goodness gracious, do I need a gal pal.

“I’m Hannah.”

“So, Hannah works the circulation desk, and she helps me a lot. She’s God’s gift to this library,” Tess says. “And I’m going to miss her so much.”

The two of them hug, and I wonder if it would be too awkward if I were to get in on the hug action. I could use a good pat on the back after this disastrous day. It has been a long time since I’ve gotten regular hugs. My dad used to fill my love tank with all of the hugs, but Lo isn’t exactly the cuddly type. She’s more of a prickly cactus when it comes to people encroaching upon her personal space. On rare occasions, when she’s excited or she sees my need for human contact and indulges me in a hug or pat on the back.

“Right now, this baby girl is demanding for me to put food in this belly. Do y’all want to go grab lunch in town?” Tess asks us. Hannah and I both nod our agreement, and we all disperse to grab our purses.

We’re seated in a hole-in-the-wall diner in town. I never would have given the place a second look based on the outside, but the inside is adorable. It looks exactly like what I would imagine a grandma’s kitchen to look like. Wooden tables with colorful mismatched chairs are spaced out around the large room, and old family pictures from all different eras are decorating the walls. Some appear to be from the nineteenth century. Those draw my attention the most.

The three of us are talking and sipping on syrupy sweet tea when a group of boisterous men walk in. Hannah’s eyes lock onto them, and she sits up a little straighter in her seat. The men are led to a table near us, and one of them stops when his gaze falls on us.

“Hey, Hannah,” he says and sits down beside her to give her a hug. “Why hasn’t that baby come out yet, Tess?”

Tess rolls her eyes and says, “I still have another month, Colby.” I try to keep the shocked expression from my face. Not to be insensitive, but the woman’s belly does not look like it can handle another month. I was sure she was due any day now.

“Colby, have you met Millie? She’s the new children’s librarian taking Tess’s place,” Hannah says. “Colby’s my brother.”

“So, you’re the librarian that has Jameson suddenly interested in taking trips into the library. Nice to meet you,” he says with a smile that tells me he’s happy about something more than just meeting me. He reaches over the table and gives me a quick handshake.

Hannah’s and Tess’s heads both snap toward me. Their questioning and surprised expressions set my heart to pounding. I knew this was a small town when I moved here, but I didn’t know it was so small I’d be living under a microscope. A man can’t go into a library without his motives being questioned?

I stutter for a second before saying, “Oh, he’s my neighbor…and his grandparents are my landlords. I’m renting their house. But of course that’s the definition of a landlord, isn’t it?” They continue to stare at me, so I go on and say, “We’re friends, sort of. More like acquaintances. I’ve only seen him twice. Well, three times if you count him changing my tire for me this morning.”

“Wait, he changed your tire this morning?” Colby asks with a loud laugh. “This is too good! Hey, Seth!” he stands and calls over to his table of friends. Another man turns and starts walking toward us. Hannah starts fidgeting with her hair and clothes. The man’s—Seth, I assume—eyes land on Hannah, and a smile spreads across his face.

“Seth, did Jamesy tell you that he rescued our new librarian this morning?” Colby asks with laughter in his voice.

“You mean the one he has the hots for?” he asks with a small laugh.

“One and the same,” Colby says and gestures to me.

“How convenient that he gets to play knight in shining armor,” he replies.

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