An Imperfect Librarian - Elizabeth Murphy [19]
“I didn’t say I was going.”
“You’ll change your mind once summer comes and I show up at your office, all tanned, in my shorts and hiking boots – the sun splitting the rocks, the air filled with the smoke and smell of barbecues, the bugs and fish biting.”
If I have my way, I’ll be back with Elsa by then.
CHAPTER TWELVE
a meaty morsel of a miracle
IT’S THE TIME OF YEAR in England people call spring: tulips already faded, lilacs about to blossom, Easter bonnets stored away. In Newfoundland, the tulips are still in hibernation, icebergs are dotting shorelines, studded snow tires and skidoos are not yet stored away. The snow has melted and left the city littered with discarded coffee cups, lost mittens and scarves – as if we needed proof that the winter storms were so strong they’d blow the clothes off your back. For my fiftieth birthday, Mercedes and Cyril gave me a t-shirt with the caption: I survived the winter of ’99-2000 under a sketch of someone holding a shovel next to a snowbank.
Inside my office, without an exterior window, the only sign of spring is the change in Henry’s mood. He’s more determined than ever that he’ll convince a woman to go on a date with him before the summer comes. If his track record is any indication of future success, I’d encourage him not to get his hopes up.
“She told me to check with her fiancé,” Henry says. “What does a darling like her want with a husband?”
“What did Mrs. Kelly want with her Henry?”
“I would never have wed in the first place, but her breasts made more than my eyes bulge. All the lads wanted to feel her up. When her Da caught us, he gave me two choices: marry her or marry her. I chose the latter. I was eighteen and almost as clueless as you are.”
“How was it?”
“Grand at first,” he says. “Sex to die for, unlimited quantities. After three babies in less than four years, I didn’t want sex anymore. All I cared about was one measly moment of calm alone with a book, without the howling, crying, fighting and the Jesus-knows-whatever-else I suffered for too long. When the children grew up and moved out, Mrs. Henry Kelly went with them. Mister accepted a job at a library in Canada where he’s been celebrating the respite from the storm ever since.”
“You know what I think?”
He shakes his head. “I couldn’t possibly fathom the likes of your mind, Carl.”
I pretend to be watching the Room. “I think there’s a woman waiting for you out there.”
He glances at me sideways.
“She’s eager, pleasing and just down the hall.”
He abandons his usual slouch and widens his eyes. “Who?” he asks.
I cross my legs then sit back in my chair as if the topic wasn’t really that important. “The woman of your dreams.”
“Who?”
I turn to face him. “Edith.”
He resumes his deflated position in his chair with his hands folded over his belly. “You can inform her on my behalf that she’s wasting her precious time.”
“Why not? She’s smart, she knows tons of people, she’s–”
He shoos me with the back of his hand. “Invite her out yourself if you’re so crazy about her,” he says.
“Have you ever considered dating Edith?”
“She’s not on my radar. Besides, I’m attracted to cleavage. Hers is about as well-defined as yours.”
I look down at my chest. “Stop that, Henry. People will start talking about us.”
“That’d be a blessing for you – give them something else to gossip about besides your conspiracy to spy on them with your databases and Bibliomining Project.”
“That’s not what I’m doing with my project. You know that.”
He leans away from me. “Ease off. They’re the ones claiming conspiracy, not me. I don’t care if you’re conspiring. Do what you want. I’m only trying to resuscitate you.”
I turn in my chair to face him. “What do you expect to receive in exchange?”
“Half-decent coffee. Could be better. The view. If you’d give me the binoculars. You’re my charity case, my volunteer work, my university service. We’re expected to do a certain amount. I dare say you’ve