Page 48 of An Overdue Match
“At least you’ve readAnne of Green Gables,” I grumble. Honestly, I can’t tell if Hayley is pulling my leg or is serious about her lack of reading.
“Have I? Or have I just seen the movie adaptation with Megan Follows?”
“We’re open!” Martha hollers from the front of the library.
I step behind the front desk and return my books into the system, placing them on the return cart to reshelve later.
A man walks in through the glass doors and strides toward the desk as if he’s on a mission. His hair is cut in a military style, his bearing one of command. Who knows, maybe a mission is exactly what he’s on.
Hayley takes one look at him, squeaks like a mouse, then scurries away.
My painted-on brows jump to my artificial hairline as I watch her retreating back.
What in the world? I’ve never once seen Hayley run from anyone, impending general or not. If anything, I would have expected her to turn on the charm that must be a family trait and walk away with a date for the evening.
“Can I help you, sir?” I ask when he stops in front of me.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m looking for a book.” His eyes dart around the shelves as if waiting for enemy combatants to jump out at any minute. “It’s, uh, blue, I think?”
I offer him my most polite smile. “Do you know any other information about the book? The title or author, perhaps?”
He seems as if he’s trying to recall some top-secret redacted files before shaking his head. “Sorry. I think it was military related somehow. Maybe written about or by a sergeant? My sister asked me to pick it up for my nephew, if that helps.”
“So, a children’s book, then?”
He nods once. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Our children’s section is over here.” I tap my chin as I walk around the desk to direct him toward the part of the library most likely to shelf the book he’s looking for. “Let’s see, a children’s book about a sergeant. Oh! Could you be looking fora book about Sergeant Stubby? He was a stray who became a national icon and famous war dog of World War I.”
The man shakes his head. “That doesn’t sound right. Do you have a book written by a sergeant? My sister mentioned a name, but I can’t recall it at the moment. A Sergeant Skivvies, maybe?”
I stop walking and think. I’ve never heard of an author named Sergeant Skivvies. What a funny name too. Skivvies. Isn’t that the military term for underwear?
Dawning comes on a wave of laughter that I manage to choke down. “Could Sergeant Skivvies be Captain Underpants?” Wouldn’t Dav Pilkey, the author, get a kick out of this one.
I lead him to a book with a blue background, just as he’d said, with a comic-style grown man wearing nothing but a pair of tighty-whities and a red cape around his neck. The nearly naked cartoon on the cover is the principal of two kids who accidentally hypnotize him into becoming Captain Underpants. I pick the book up and hand it to him.
A myriad of emotions march in formation across his face as he examines the book in his hands, shock leading the charge. He glances back at me, a hint of red to his cheeks that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome.” I turn before the chuckle I’ve been suppressing makes it past my defenses. Sergeant Skivvies. Martha is going to lose it with this one when I tell her.
“Is he gone?” Hayley whisper-shouts from her hiding place behind a shelf of books about communicable diseases. I should give her a feather duster while she’s back there. No one ever checks out those books. Not that I can blame them.
I peek over my shoulder. The man finishes at the self-check kiosk, then heads to the door. “He’s leaving now.”
Hayley visibly relaxes. “Good.”
My attention snags on two spines with Dewey decimalnumbers out of order. I reach for the books to reshelve them correctly. “Care to explain what that was about?”
“Not without a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, no.”
I chuff out a laugh. “Fair enough.” It would take more than ice cream for me to want to discuss Brett, so I get it.
She adjusts the hem of her shirt. “This month’s book club attendees have started to arrive, by the way.”
I glance at the clock on the wall. “Already? But it’s not supposed to start for another twenty minutes. I haven’t even set the room up yet.”
Hayley shrugs and walks past me. “I’m pretty sure he won’t mind helping.”
