Page 85 of Check You Out

8 Hours until the Council Meeting

Letting out a contented sigh, I watch tendrils of steam rise from the piping hot cup of coffee I made just before coming down into the bookstore for my first official day as Sunflower Books’s new part-time and summer bookseller. Charlotte made me do the paperwork and everything. She insisted and said, “Aidan, it’s not legal for me to pay you in just books and coffee. I have to pay you in money.”

“But what if I just end up buying books from you?” I asked.

“It’s your money.” She shrugged. “I don’t care what you do with it,” she replied and pointed to the tax-forms. “I still have to do things legally. You said you wanted to be here this summer and beyond, well, this is how you can do that.”

Grinning, I inquired, “So does this mean I’m fucking my boss?”

She laughed. “Until you finish those forms, you’re technically not employed. So finish those forms and then you can fuck your boss.”

I finished those forms in record time and then proceeded to pin Charlotte against a door.

Respectfully, of course.

That was last week. It took a few days to get me on the employee rotation. But I’m working in the bookstore. I’m spending an entire summer surrounded by books and away from teens. It’s a dream come true.

Charlotte is meeting with Mayor Harrington to iron out some details about the Summerfest this weekend. Although I get the feeling there might also be some last-minute discussion about the Douglass County Open Comment meeting tonight.

Anxiety has been running high through the town today. Charlotte and I did not sleep well last night, and neither of us were in the mood to distract ourselves with reading or some sex. Nicole knocked over a full carafe of coffee this morning when I went to grab lattes at Triple C. The Lisas were in a corner booth at the café, stress knitting. I spied Johnny pacing in his pizzeria while Georgie talked animatedly to him.

“If only I could be like you,” I mutter to Lloyd, who is lounging in the window, curled up on Thelma’s bed. The ancient cat is reclined on the counter, her fluffy tail swaying back and forth as she studies me with her fierce green eyes. “Or like you,” I say as I scratch the top of her head. She closes her eyes and leans into my touch, purring.

The bell above the door twinkles, and I look up to see my father walking in. He’s dressed impeccably in his typical day-to-day uniform, a navy-blue suit with his hair slicked back. He’s carrying two coffee cups.

Lloyd eyes my father and bounces down from the window, investigating his pant legs. Thelma rises with a great arch in her back and lets out a loud meow. Although I can’t tell if she’s welcoming him or warning me.

“Uh, hi, Dan,” I say with a dry throat. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He strides over to the counter and sets the coffee cups down. He kneels and holds out his hand for my dog to sniff. “Hey buddy,” he murmurs, and part of me is surprised by his gentleness. I never had dogs growing up. Dan and Mags were always too busy and didn’t want to “complicate our lives”.

“Lloyd likes being picked up. Although this one,” I say while running a hand over Thelma’s back, “will get jealous and insist that you pick up her too.”

“Luckily they are both small,” Dan remarks, scooping up my dog, who licks at his chin. Thelma sneezes once and lets out another meow.

I appease her by scratching her at the base of her tail. “I wasn’t expecting you. Everything ok?”

“I wanted to wish you well on your first day here. Your mother told me that you’re starting today.” He nods to the cups. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to bring you a maple cinnamon latte, although I see you’re already covered in the caffeine department.”

I scoff. “I never turn down coffee. Remember, I inherited your addiction to caffeine along with your eyes and bone structure.” I pick up the latte, and the corner of my mouth turns up. Did Xander talk to him about increasing friendship points like in Stardew Valley? “Thanks, I need this. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Nervous about starting here and all?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a lot of work keeping these two in line.” I gesture toward the two fluffy animals. Thelma has moved on from my attention and is now curled up on another bed on the counter. “Plus, there’s a bookstore ghost to deal with.”

Dan’s brows knit. “Uh, a bookstore ghost?”

I nod. “Charlotte calls him Jimmy. She thinks he’s the ghost of her father coming back to hang out in the bookstore. It only showed up after he died. He’s very fond of flinging books at people. We call them Jimmy’s Recommendations. Last week he threw Love is a War Song by Danica Nava at me.” I watch him to see if he’s annoyed or tired of my talking. Something tingles in my spine. I don’t exactly know why I’m talking so much. Maybe it’s because I’m nervous. Dan is here, I have to make an important speech tonight, and today is my first day at a new job. “It was so good that I read it in one day.”

Dan nods, a weak smile spreading across his face. “I guess Jimmy has some good recommendations.” He eyes a nearby display of the picks by the ghosts. “So, uh, I didn’t wish you well on your first day of teaching all those years ago. Or every year after that,” he remarks, his face transitions to a grimace. “I’m sorry about that, and for all the times I criticized you for not following in my footsteps.”

Something inside of my chest cracks. He’s apologized before, but this one is hitting differently. My eyes water and I wipe them, still feeling a little anxious that he might find fault in me crying. “I appreciate that. You can always wish me well in the next school year.”

A corner of his mouth turns upward. “That is true. I’m sure I could think of several ways to make up for it.”

I lift the paper cup. “Bringing me coffee sure helps!”

“Is that so?” Dan eyes me. “Seems too easy.”