Page 3 of Finding Michael

So he liked being approachable… If a patron had a problem, he was easy to find. Plus, the open floorplan of the library gave him a better vantage point to keep an eye on the bank of three computers and to watch for possible thefts. He wasn’t sure what the thrill of stealing a thesaurus was, but at least one managed to walk out of the library per month.

He picked up his clipboard and resumed sorting through the donated books. If he didn’t increase his pace, he’d never get done.

“Hey, you.” Dicey, one of his volunteers, knocked on the shed door. “Are you hiding?”

“No. I’m sorting.” He plunked a worn copy of a recent crime thriller into the book sale box. “I’m hoping there are some classics in here. That department is rather thin and the high-school students keep using them for reports. It’d be nice to have more than three copies ofWuthering HeightsandJane Eyre. I know many of the students can’t afford to buy their own books. Having them here helps out everyone.”

“IsJane Eyrethe current book being used for projects?” Dicey asked. She puffed a lock of hair out of her eyes.

“Yes. Why?” What had he missed this time?

“Then that explains why we had to order a bunch in and the ones we should’ve had are missing. Not checked out. Missing.” She folded her arms. “I hate to admit it, but we’ve got tons of heart in Sullavan, but no money.”

“I know. Having a lot of heart is a good thing, though.”Just bad for funding.He sighed. “I wish I could get a grant to buy more books or some wealthy patron would magically show up and donate whatever we wanted…but that won’t happen.”

“I’ve tried to conjure up money, but my spells don’t work.”

He stared at her. Dicey Smith embodied eccentricity. Her hair was never the same color for more than a week. She wore long dresses and, depending on the day, claimed to be a witch or a fortune teller. But she entertained him. She was loyal, sweet and didn’t expect payment for the hours she spent at the library.

“I’ll bite,” Dicey said. “If you can get a grant, where does the money come from? The state won’t cough up more and the town can’t carry it. I know what you make and it’s not much. The Joneses and the Martins have already donated their fair share.”

“I know.” He relied on the generosity of the Friends of the Sullavan Library and both wealthy families to help make ends meet, but even with the help from the state, he managed to fall short.

“We need fresh blood.” Dicey tapped on the door. “Yeah.”

“In Sullavan?” He abandoned his clipboard and the box of books. “I can’t tell you the last time someone new moved in.” He left the shed, then locked the door. “I’m the last individual to buy a house in a twenty-mile radius.”

“Don’t remind me.” She fell into step beside him. “Then Al died and the population went down.” She swatted Michael’s arm. “Did you know I dated him in school? We were sweethearts.”

“I remember you mentioning something about that.” He nodded, then held the door for her to enter the building first. She’d been crushed when she’d first found out Al had passed.

“Anyway, we need new blood in town. Something to jazz the place up.” She pointed to Michael. “Right?”

“You’re old enough to be my mother and I’m gay,” Michael said.

“Which is why we’re perfect for each other.” Dicey rounded the counter and plopped onto the chair. “If all else fails, we’re a match.”

He rolled his eyes. “I doubt it.”

“We both like…” She dropped her voice to a whisper and glanced around the nearly empty building. “Dicks.”

“Dicey, please.” He didn’t mind her feeling comfortable enough in his presence to be blunt, but what if a patron heard her?

“Oh, okay.” Dicey leaned on the counter. “Lauren, did you hear what I said?”

Lauren poked her head out from between the shelves in the children’s section. “There’s no one here but the three of us and yes, I caught every word.”

“Drat.” Dicey glared at Michael. “Oh well.”

“Just be glad there aren’t patrons here.” Michael took his post at the other end of the circulation desk. “Count your blessings.”

“Speaking of blessings, I’m lucking out on the man front. How about Lauren and I find you one?” Dicey grinned. “I could conjure one.”

“No.” Dating never worked for him—not that he’d tell her that. “No conjuring or otherwise. I’m good on my own.” He wasn’t sure why he’d been honest. Once she got an idea, she didn’t let go until she saw it through. He’d be her next mission.

“I’ll wear you down one day at a time.” She sighed. “You know, I went out there to ask you to come in here because we needed help, but that didn’t bring in patrons.”

“Why’d you think it would? School isn’t out yet and story time was this morning. Everyone in town is either at work or not coming here. We aren’t exactly a hotspot.” Michael tapped the keys on his laptop. He looked over his email, then paused. Most of it was nothing but interoffice memos from the main branch of the library system or from a patron requesting a hold. “Why am I getting notifications from the senior center regarding donating used books?”

---