“And why do you assume you’ll be in charge? Awfully presumptuous of you.” He winked right back.
“Anyway,” I drew out with a sigh. “Any fires to put out this morning?”
“Talking about fires in a library is blasphemy, dear.”
“Sorry, sorry.” I laughed. “I used to work for my best friend; she has a book-and-candle shop downtown…said it all the time, never really thought about it.”
Vern shook his head. “Kids these days.”
“Hey! Watch who you’re calling a kid. I have an apartment; I have a car that’s fully paid for. I’m not a kid.”
“Mea culpa, dear.”
“Mmmm-hmmmm,” I said, shaking my head. “So let me try this again in a way that won’t offend. What’s on the docket this morning?”
“Just getting back into it. Preparing for the truckloads of books that’ll get returned today.”
“Ah, yes, the post-winter break purge,” I said with a laugh and a smile that I knew would annoy Vern. I did it anyway. “But then we get to shelve them.”
“Oh joy,” Vern said, grumbling and reaching into the pocket of his charcoal gray wool cardigan sweater. Beneath it was a checkered Oxford shirt and a bow tie. As crotchety as he could be, the man had some serious senior style. He pulled out a pack of Altoids, like he always did.
“Wintergreen today? What’s the occasion?”
“Too many candy canes,” he grumbled. “Want one?”
“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”
“You know, every day I ask you and every day you turn me down. You got something against fresh breath?”
“Just not a big mint person. Now, buy the cinnamon ones and that’s another story.”
“Ick. Never.” Vern made a face like he’d tasted a sour lemon, and I rolled my eyes. Another day with Vern, another joke about mints and book returns.
Another day in paradise.
The morning picked up as more yawning students walked into the library, backpacks and phones in tow. I was fully immersed in scanning in returned books when a voice called to me from the other end of the counter.
“Excuse me, sorry to bother you.”
She was a petite young woman, probably eighteen or nineteen years old, with rich brown skin and deep black hair tied up tight in a high ponytail. My breath caught as I took in the sight of her. She looked just like Dev. Just like him.
I cleared my throat, returning the books to the counter and walking toward her. “What can I help you with?”
“My professor just assigned this massive project, and I’m not sure where to start.”
“Subject.”
“Western Civ.”
“Ahh, let me guess. Professor Rademacher?”
“How did you know?”
With a shrug, I gave a friendly wave of the hand. “Semester project. It’s his thing.”
“It’s overwhelming.”
“We’ll get you set up, don’t worry,” I said with a reassuring smile. “Do you have a thesis yet? Or just a topic?”
“No thesis yet, but hoping I can figure that out after I do some research. I think I wanna focus on the Renaissance.”
“Good choice,” I said, walking around the counter. “We have a ton of stuff for that time period and some really great reference materials for you. You’ll have your thesis in no time.”
I led her to the shelves that were filled with books about the Renaissance. She oohed and ahhed as I stacked book after book on a cart for her to peruse.
“Awesome. You’re amazing!” she said with a wide grin. I knew that grin; I did.
“No problem. Feel free to ask for me anytime you need help and you’re not sure where to start.” I looked down at my chest, realizing I’d forgotten my name tag. “I’m Lyra, by the way. And I’m here five days a week.”
“Wait.” She narrowed her eyes, looking just as surprised as I must have looked when I first laid eyes on her. “Lyra, did you say?”
“Yeah,” I said, tilting my head slightly to the side.
“Oh my God, I—what are the chances? I can’t believe this. He said you were a librarian, but I never thought you worked at my school!” She looked off to the side, lost in thought. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Who?”
“My brother… Dev. I’m Savita.”
“Oh,” I said, unsure of what else to say. She extended her hand and I shook it. “It’s nice to meet you.”
That explains the twinlike resemblance.
“I was afraid of that reaction. Now you’ll probably never want to help me again.” She rolled her eyes with a sigh.
“No, it’s just… When you first walked up to the counter, you reminded me of him.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. Everyone thinks we look like twins, but the dude’s, like, eight years older than me, so that’s insulting. I mean, c’mon, I don’t look thirty. He does, of course, but not me.”
“Think of it as a compliment to him.”
“Still,” she shook her head, “still.”
Her speech patterns mirrored his. She spoke quickly, just like Dev; she waved her arms in an animated way when she talked. Again, just like her brother. To borrow a favorite word of Vern’s, it was “uncanny.”
“So he told you about me?”
Savita opened her mouth, suddenly looking sheepish. “Yeah, I mean, about the ski trip and everything. That’s all, really. I don’t know anything else.”
Total lie, but I appreciate you trying.
She said before releasing her backpack from her shoulder and unzipping it. “Hey, want to try something I’ve been working on?”
“Um…” I said, peering into her backpack. She pulled out a plastic container filled with some sort of baked good.
“Peanut butter and jelly cookies,” she said with a wide grin. “I mean, everyone likes PB& J, right? Wait, are you allergic?”
“Nope.”
Savita looked relieved. “Phew, okay.” She lifted the top of the container, and the rich smell of peanut butter tickled my nostrils. My stomach growled and Savita smiled.
“I heard that. Here.” She passed me a cookie.
“Thanks.”
“Go on. I want to see your face when you try it.”
“Oh,” I said, a little surprised but amused. Biting into the thick cookie, I was impressed. The peanut butter flavor was perfect, and when I pulled the cookie away, I could see raspberry jam peeking out from the center of the cookie. “Wow.”
“Really? Do you think it needs anything else?”
I took another bite, savoring the sweetness of the jam. “No, they’re perfect.”
Savita lit up, looking ecstatic. “Sweet!”
As wonderful as the cookie was, I wasn’t quite done thinking about Dev.
“Hey, how’s Dev’s ankle?” I asked.
“Oh good, I think he’s off the crutches now, but I haven’t seen him in a week or so. I hear about him from my mom, mostly. I really can’t handle him right now.” Again, she made a face, like she’d said too much.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”