Page 12 of Margins

“Okay, so the first thing I noticed was the word ‘perhaps’ written next to the first chapter, which obviously didn’t have to mean anything until I got to the first full entry where P—presumably—calls E’s idea clever,” Alex explains.

“Which we can assume means E was the one to suggest they pass messages back and forth in these books,” Elijah continues. “And ‘perhaps’ was an acknowledgment of the beginning of it all.”

“Exactly. So, can you tell whether one of your books has those early responses?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Elijah says, already looking down at where a folded receipt from the bar has kept his place, a list of what Alex assumes are page numbers scribbled there. It’s probably moderately neater, and more sustainable, than Alex’s decision to steal an entire handful of bookmarks from his kid. “Okay, here we go: P, I feel everything too and needed this way to tell you. If you think it’s clever, I’ll gladly accept that honor, though I’m mostly lonely and eager for the chance to come alive the next time you’re near.”

Alex reads aloud the passage he has about E standing close and touching hands and hoping nobody saw them. “So, other than the fact that they’re using these books at all, there’s an implication from the very beginning that they don’t want anyone to notice them.”

“That it’s a secret romance,” Elijah adds.

“Either because it has to be, or maybe they’re just shy about it at first?”

“Pretty sure it’s the former. Here’s what’s next: P, maybe we’re more wrong than we know, putting ourselves at risk like this, and you in so much more danger than I could ever be. But I want to touch you again. I want more. I want whatever you will give.”

“Yeah,” Alex sighs. “There’s definitely a reason they can’t be together. And an imbalance of some kind, if P is really risking more than E.”

Elijah takes a long drink from his bottle and nods. “Which is why I’m still not convinced it’s my great grandparents. Like I said before, they met when they were young, and both came from wealthy families, as unaffected by the world around them as anyone could be back then. I don’t get why they’d be sneaking around. I mean, if it was just fun, sure, but—”

“But this sounds more serious than that,” Alex finishes.

“Yeah, it does.”

They read through a few more, an ease between them returning as they narrate a love story written long before they were born, random theories or reactions shared as they go. P and E continue to pass the books back and forth, apparently the only way they can talk more honestly, seeming to stay quiet even when they see each other to exchange the novels in whatever situation they’ve created for themselves, and he and Elijah still can’t figure why. Then when Alex moves to the kitchen to grab each of them a second beer and some chips, he yells back to where Elijah’s sitting.

“Didn’t you say there was something about a law firm?” he asks. “Was that in this first book or the second one you found?”

“It’s in this one,” Elijah answers. “I think it might be next, actually.”

By the time Alex sits back down, he sees Elijah holding the book open, another message there in the margin for Alex to see. “Okay, go ahead.”

“This one is a little longer. P, I walked past your firm tonight and saw a light coming from your office, and only wish I could’ve been in there with you. And yes, I know I should’ve stayed away entirely. I know I have no business being nearby late at night when I could be accused of any number of wrongdoings. But sometimes it’s easier to dream when the sun goes down and the darkness lets me pretend the world might not hate us both. We have lived like this for nearly a year already. Is there any chance for us to find our way there? To something truly good?”

“God, it sounds so sad,” Alex says. “And I already know they kiss later, but I hate how hard it was for them to get there. A year? Did you find out any more about whether your great grandfather worked at the law firm back when he first met your great grandmother?”

Elijah nods. “Yeah, I asked my mom about it, and she said my great grandfather did start working there when he was young—I guess his father was already some big deal at the firm—but this sounds like he was more than just a clerk or something, right?”

“It definitely does. He had his own office, which would’ve had to mean something,” Alex agrees, sitting back in his chair with the beer in his hand. “But there’s also the part about E being afraid of being accused of wrongdoing. What’s that sound like to you?”

“Prostitution?”

“Hmmm, yeah, maybe. I mean, I guess it wouldn’t have even had to be true, because I’m sure it was frowned upon for any woman to be walking the streets alone at nighttime, right?”

“Yeah. But it also could’ve been true. Maybe he was in love with a prostitute and that’s why it was forbidden,” Elijah muses.

Alex shakes his head. “No, but if he wanted to sneak around with a prostitute, he could do that wherever prostitutes did everything else. He wouldn’t have had to wait for some secret book exchange just to touch hands.”

“And we still might be way off, and this has nothing to do with my family at all.”

“Guess that’s true, too,” Alex sighs. “How about we read a little more and then just call it a night?”

He hates the suggestion, even as it falls off his tongue, not particularly interested in saying goodbye, especially if Elijah decides he’s not invested in the story after all. But he has to work in the morning, and he can’t expect Elijah to hang out with him and a bunch of old books for that long anyway, free beer or no.

“Yeah, a little more sounds good.”

“Okay, this should be next then: E, I only ever want you close, but please don’t risk your own wellbeing for a glimpse at my window. We’ve both only just become free from the terror of another world war and are so close to terror of our own always. Perhaps it would be better if I could find my way to the warehouses sometime. Perhaps those could be our nights.”

“World War II,” Elijah says, running a hand through his curls. “Fuck.”

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