Page 31 of The Overdue Kiss

I sigh. I’m in deeper trouble than I realized. How can I save a library that’s not even doing the bare minimum? Ms. Anderson must have known all along.

“Does anyone use the library?”

“Why would we? My granddaughter sent me this fancy tablet that lets me read everything with giant letters,” Myrtle responds.

“Oh, I have one of those too. No need to leave the house,” Kitty says.

I rub the spot between my brows. “Besides books, nothing else brings you inside? Do clubs meet here? I know you said you play bingo. I run a book bingo back in Golden. Perhaps I can start something here. Instead of winning money, you’d win books,” I say with my best sales pitch.

They all stare at me like I have a third eye. Eventually Eden speaks up.

“While that sounds like a hoot... I’m not sure there are any books I’d like to win in there.”

The others nod in agreement.

Eden stops me at the door and pats my arm. “Well, we have to get back to our patrol. It was absolutely lovely to meet you, Maya. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to contact us. We do our morning walks down Main Street, but after that, you’ll find one of us is always around town. We like to keep an eye out for riffraff.”

“I appreciate it.” I smile and untangle myself from her grip.

“Tell Mr. Sherman I said hi,” Kitty says, fluffing her hair.

“We are so excited to see what you do with the place,” Myrtle says, clasping her wrinkled hands together. “It’s all that everyone is gossiping about.”

That feeling of dread returns to the pit of my stomach. The whole town is expecting me to save their library.

But what if I can’t?

Unable to handle their hope-filled expressions, I rush into the library. The musty smell of books greets me like an old friend, that vintage smell of antiques and far-off places surrounding me. My fingers itch to sort through the stacks of dusty books to see what rare-edition books are hidden in plain sight.

But now isn’t the time to curl up with a good book... even if I desperately want to.

Between the rows of metal bookcases is a carpeted path that dead-ends at a circular desk. With each step, goosebumps spread down my arms like I’m standing in a place of reverence.

The term “library” is a stretch. More like a museum.

There’s a distinct rumble of snoring from behind the desk, and I creep closer past the tall stacks to investigate. Feet up on the desk, a gray-haired man reclines in his chair with his long legs stretched out. His arms are crossed over his chest, his hands tucked under his suspenders. Perhaps in his seventies or eighties. However old he is, he seems well past retirement.

An ancient computer takes up most of his desk.Does this dinosaur machine even run our current software?It’s an easy but tedious fix, especially if I have to log in all the books. But then I see it, the rows of drawers behind him marked with the dewy decimal system. Something I haven’t seen but in a textbook in college. I grab my cross necklace in mild panic. How outdated is this place?

There’s only one way to find out.

“Excuse me?” I say.

But the man only inhales another deep, rumbly breath. I tap the toe of his shoe and then shake it for good measure.

“Sir?”

“Dagnabbit!” he shrieks and snaps upright with a snort, his hands patting around his chest until he finds his glasses and slides them into place. “Sorry about that. I was in the middle of my lunchtime nap. How can I help you today?”

“Hello. Ms. Anderson from the Golden Branch called you last week about my arrival. I’m Maya Santos from Outreach.”

He scratches his five o’clock shadow. “I do remember something about a lady coming with her book-bus-thingy.”

“That would be me. Hi.” I wave a hand. “And you are?”

“Douglas Sherman V. It’s nice to meet you. I saw your bus parked on Main Street. Is that what brings you in today?”

“It’s one of the reasons for my visit. Besides bringing books to the school and community, I’m here to check out your library and see what needs updating.”

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