Romance By the Book by Sarah Ready

Will

I decideit’s time to be more proactive. I’m looking for Jessie, I have something to give her. I step into the air-conditioned, book-scented hush of the Romeo Public Library. Even though I’ve known for years that Jessie works here, I’ve never been inside. It seemed like too much of an intrusion of her privacy. Or, let’s be honest, I didn’t want to see her smiling and happy in a place she loves and then have that smile replaced by wariness and dislike.

So, I avoided the library. It was better to see her at the wine bar, or the bakery, or walking on the sidewalk. If she noticed me then, and I managed to react to her as I always have and act like a cold-blooded ass, then it didn’t feel so bad, her shift to adamant dislike.

I walk into the library and look around. It’s about the size of two school classrooms. The ceilings are high and vaulted with wooden beams. There are large arched windows looking over the Romeo River, rocking chairs, magazine stands, and a puzzle table where a man and a boy sort through small puzzle pieces. To my right is the circulation desk, where you can check out books. There’s an older white-haired woman behind it, but not Jessie. I wander farther into the library. There are long rows with shelves and shelves of books. The children’s section has a dress-up area, a play kitchen, a train table and a huge cushioned chair. A mom and her two boys are in the chair reading a picture book. The younger boy looks up and waves at me. I hold up my hand and wave back.

I wander through the shelves and run my hand over the cool spines of the books. I breathe in the deep smell of old paperbacks and taped book bindings. There are about a dozen people here, but it’s as hushed as a winter’s morning after a heavy snow.

I’ve circled the library but I don’t see Jessie. I wonder where she is. It’s three o’clock and I know she works until five on weekdays. I look down and rub the worn cover of the thin paperback in my hand. It’s my favorite book, I’ve read it so many times that I’ve had to glue and tape and re-glue the binding. The cover is torn into three different places and I think in a few years the book may fall apart beyond repair.

I sigh and head toward the circulation desk, book in hand.

“Excuse me.”

The white-haired woman behind the circulation desk looks up from her reading and smiles. She pulls off her pink and purple reading glasses.

“Checking out?” She looks at the book in my hand.

“No. No, this isn’t a library book. I’m looking for Jessie.”

The woman smiles and her eyes crinkle. “You must be Gavin.”

What the…?

I shake my head. “No. I’m his brother.”

I lean forward and try to look friendly when I’m feeling anything but. “Is she expecting him?”

She clicks her tongue against her teeth. “Well, we all are, aren’t we? After Miss Erma announced him as Jessie’s soul mate. Congratulations on your brother’s match.” She smiles.

I show her my teeth and hope it looks like a grin and not me grinding my teeth together.

“Miss Erma predicted my soul mate. My Eddie and I have been together for thirty-five years next month. She’s never been wrong, dontcha know?”

I clench my teeth harder and my jaw tightens. My paperback bends in my hand and I quickly loosen my grip on it.

“I’m sure she’s been wrong at least once or twice.”

The woman clicks her tongue again. “Oh no. Never. She’s never been wrong. She’s successfully predicted hundreds of matches.”

I nod. What a crock, who would believe this garbage? Except…Jessie, and from what I hear, the entire town. Including Jessie’s friend Veronica and her husband Sam.

On his mission to bring back the “fun me,” Gavin and I went rock climbing this morning. We ran into Veronica and her husband Sam, and decided to climb together. Well, everyone else climbed, I mostly fell, since I’ve never been climbing before. The entire time, Sam kept giving Gavin and I speculative looks, and Veronica flat out took me aside and told me if I messed up Jessie’s chances at love, she would tie me up and drop me in a cave so dark and deep no one would ever find my body. Her husband Sam overheard the threat. Instead of being concerned, he laughed, kissed her and asked if she’d tie him up and throw him in a cave.

Insane.

Then Sam took me aside and asked about hiring a few project management consultants out of my New York City office. The whole time Veronica gave me the side-eye and as I left she gave me the “I’m watching you” gesture.

Don’t mess things up for Jessie and Gavin, she’d said. Which meant, this white-haired librarian, Jessie, Veronica, Sam, and apparently hundreds of couples believe in this soul mate psychic baloney.

The hollow space in my chest aches again. Maybe she isn’t wrong. But I said it once and I’ll say it again. I. Don’t. Care.

When I was eight, I fell for Jessie. Maybe the psychic says there’s someone else for her, but there’s no one else for me. I found Jessie before I stopped being able to care and I never was able to let her go.

I decided after rock climbing that I need to finally step off the path I’ve been walking. I’m going to be who I’ve always wanted to be around Jessie. Gavin’s right, I’ve been what my dad made me into for too long.

“Will Jessie be back before you close?” I ask the librarian.

She clicks her tongue. “She’s already here. She’s teaching the seniors’ computer skills class in the community room.” She points to a pair of wooden double doors near the children’s area.

“Thank you.”

I step into the community room and quietly closed the double doors behind me. Jessie is bent over a computer next to an eighty-plus-year-old man in a flannel suit.

“You push the control and C keys at the same time to copy, Mr. Frank,” she says. “Or you can find the copy command in the edit menu.”

“Aha. I was pushing control and Z.”

“That puts the computer to sleep,” says a steel-haired woman in a purple muumuu.

“Nonsense, Petunia. Control Z reverses your last action,” says a tightlipped woman in a gray collared shirt.

“It was a joke, Gladiola, even after seventy-seven years you still can’t understand a joke.”

“I’d like to control Z your conversation,” says Mr. Frank.

“Who is this?” says a woman with short tight white curls and large horn-rimmed glasses.

All four seniors and Jessie turn and look at me.

“I’m William. Mind if I join?” I smile at Jessie and ignore the glare that she sends my way. “Looks like you’re having fun.”

Petunia looks at me and my nonchalant smile and then at Jessie’s stony expression. A mischievous light enters her eyes. I get the impression Petunia likes a good joke.

“You can share my computer,” Petunia says in a chipper voice that would scare a veteran soldier.

“Thank you.” I start to walk across the room to the long computer table.

Jessie scowls and marches toward me. I take a moment to admire the way her cheeks go pink and her black hair swings almost angrily and her blue-gray dress swishes around her legs like the tail of an annoyed cat. There’s fire in her eyes and I smile at the spark.

“What are you doing here?” she hisses. Then her eyes widen and she looks behind her to make sure no one heard. All four of the seniors are staring openly at her, completely fascinated.

I wink at Petunia and she snorts.

“Stop it,” says Jessie to me. Then she leads me to the other side of the room, farther away from our audience.

“What do you want?”

I swallow. The book is heavy in my hand. Somehow this is even harder than I imagined. But every journey has to begin with a first step.

“I came to give you a book.”

“Okay. Fine.” She shrugs and holds out her hand.

There’s a tight thudding in my chest. Opening our Hong Kong office last year wasn’t this stressful.

I gently place the book in her hand. My back is to the room and I’m shielding her from everyone’s eyes. Her fingers close around the book and she stares down at the torn, worn, faded cover.

“What…?”

She doesn’t recognize it. For some reason I thought she would. I know it looks different than the last time she held it. It’s much worse for wear.

“I wanted to give it back.” My voice is quiet. “You said it was your favorite. It’s my favorite too.” I hold my breath and wait for her response.

She turns the book over and gently opens the cover. BookEnds, Romeo NY, is stamped on the first page. She runs her finger over the stamp, and I watch her, transfixed.

“But…you…you threw it away. I saw you.”

“I went back for it.”

I don’t mention how I stayed up until two in the morning waiting for my dad to go to bed. How I sprinted the miles to downtown praying Jessie hadn’t dug it out, and praying the garbage collectors hadn’t come. I don’t tell her how when I pulled it out of the trash I started to cry. I hadn’t cried in the four years since my mom left. I didn’t know why I cried then. I stayed up the rest of the night and read it, then read it again.

This book let me imagine Jessie and I were friends. As long as I had it, I could keep on pretending.

“Why?” She searches my face.

Here goes. “I thought about what you said. I think we should be friends.”

She looks down at the book and shakes her head.

The hollow spot grows bigger at her no.

“Sorry about the state of it. I read it a lot. I underlined a few places too. Passages I liked. Sorry.”

She looks up and a small laugh escapes from her lips. She stifles it. Then, “What? Cretin. I should’ve known you were the type to write in books.”

She takes the book and holds it against her heart in an unconscious gesture. I smile as relief washes through me.

“Friends?”

She strokes the worn cover of the book and I think of all the times I held it.

“Does this mean you won’t stand in my way?”

I shake my head. “No. It means that I’d like to be friends.” There’s no way I’ll help her pursue my twin brother. That’s a special hell I’ll never willingly enter.

She wrinkles her brow and studies me like I’m a mixed-up jigsaw puzzle.

“Okay,” she finally says and I feel my shoulders relax. I let out a relieved breath.

“Friends,” she says, and she smiles at me. I’m blinded by the radiance of it.

She walks back toward her seniors computer class and I follow, watching her skirt swish around her hips. She turns back.

“You can’t stay for class. Seniors only.”

“Oh darn,” says Petunia. “I was going to pinch his bottom when he sat down.”

Gladiola scowls. “Hush, Petunia. He can’t be here. We’re helping Jessie get ready for her big date.”

Jessie groans, and I swing around and look at her. She looks away from me nonchalantly. It’s so obvious, she may as well be twiddling her thumbs and whistling.

I casually turn back to Gladiola. “Big date, huh? Jessie and I are friends. Surprised she didn’t tell me.”

Gladiola deepens her scowl. “Pshaw. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

But Mr. Frank decides to help a fellow man out. “Jessie has a date with her soul mate. They’re going to Tybalt’s for dinner. I bet he’ll seal the deal. That Tybalt’s is the hotspot for romance.” He wiggles his eyebrows meaningfully at me.

I swing around and narrow my eyes on Jessie. She purses her lips and raises her eyebrows.

Petunia speaks up. “They’re having the spaghetti. Jessie called Chef Renaldo and he promised to keep the noodles extra-long so they can reenact that scene from Lady and the Tramp. You know, the kissing scene.”

I give Jessie a hard stare. When, amidst our rock climbing day, did Gavin manage to agree to a date?

I turn to Petunia. “What time is dinner?”

“Oh, seven,” she says happily.

I give Petunia a big smile, then turn to Jessie. “Have fun tonight.”

“What are you planning?” Her eyes narrow on me.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

I hurry out. I have a lot of planning to do.