Page 3 of Own

Shrugging, I go into the back room to grab my supplies for today’s reading circle time. I love children, and working with them is something I’ve always dreamed of doing, so I created the kids’ corner and offered to set it up before I was hired by the library. It’s not just your typical kids’ corner either. One section is set up as the “Boys’ Turf,” then there’s the “Princesses’ Gallery,” and finally, the “Reading Nook”. Each caters to different subject matter. Boys’ Turf is all things monster trucks, dinosaurs, superheroes, and robots. In the Princesses’ Gallery, it’s all about Disney, tea parties, and magic. And the Reading Nook is the perfect mix of both, so anyone who wants to explore can. I’ve tried to make it as inclusive as possible since starting it, and so far, I’ve received great feedback from parents and kids.

Today’s story will take place in the Reading Nook, and I plan on beginning The Lion King series of books. I have a dozen kids signed up so far and a generous donor who supplied books and teddy bears for at least twenty kids. It’s the first time I’ve been able to hand out gifts, and depending on how it goes, I might lobby for more donations to keep the generosity going.

“There is a tall hunk of man meat out there melting my brain,” Chelsea mutters in the doorway, fanning her face and crossing her legs, while holding her stomach.

“That’s a gross picture.” Men have never been on my radar. I don’t date. I barely go out to begin with and couldn’t imagine doing it while someone likely judges me.

“No. The fact you aren’t jumping to see him right now is gross.” Her nose scrunches up in mock disgust.

I roll my eyes and push past her with my arms full. “Whatever you s-s-say.” I’ll take her word for it because I have no interest.

Hauling my goodie bags to the circle carpet where the children will sit, I begin placing them evenly apart when someone suddenly hugs me from behind, startling a yelp out of me.

“I missed you, Hester!”

Turning to see whose arms are death-locked around my legs, I’m surprised to find the beautiful little Miss Scarlett with her brown locks of hair, squashed against me. I haven’t seen her in almost a month. I’d begun to miss her.

“Well, hello, Miss Scarlett.” I offer a genuine smile. “It’s been a while. How are you?”

She finally releases me, and I fully turn to her. Dropping to my knees so we’re eye level, I notice the dark bags under her eyes, and worry churns in my belly.

“So good now that I can come back here!” She spins in a circle, the skirt of her dress puffing up, before falling into a fit of giggles in front of me.

Scarlett is the purest soul I’ve ever met. She began coming to my story time readings almost from the beginning, usually with her brother and grandma, and I’ve always felt a special bond with her.

“Well, I’m very happy to have you back. Would you like to help me set up?” She bobs her head enthusiastically. “Would you grab the cushions from the corner there and put them around the circle?”

“How many?” She jumps to her feet and runs to the shelf where I keep the cushions.

“Twelve. One for each bag.”

She nods, and I’m surprised when she doesn’t ask about the bags or try to peek inside them.

Listening to her count while she skips over with each pillow puts a smile on my face and eases the anxiety that was growing in my chest before opening for the day.

“I’ll be right back, Scarlett, just going to grab the snack cart.” She gives me a thumbs up and continues what she’s doing, then I sneak off.

Not paying attention to my surroundings, I run into a wall. “Crap.” I rub my forehead, prepared to go around said wall, but freeze when hands clasp my elbows, and I quickly realize I didn’t run into a wall but a man who feels like one.

“I-I-I-I’m s-s-sorry,” I stutter out. I’ve never been good at speaking to men. My stutter comes out in full force when I do.

“Are you alright?” His voice thunders through the quiet building, or maybe my ears are ringing, making him sound louder than he is.

“Y-y-yes.” I try to go around him again, but his grip tightens. I still haven’t looked up at his face. I’m afraid to, honestly.

I don’t know what to do as I stand there in silence, my head tucked down, staring at my shoes, counting the scuff marks, and my fingers tugging on my sweater. My breath catches, and fear clouds my vision when a finger slides under my chin, tilting my head up and forcing me to look at him. Biting my lip to stop my quivering, I swallow roughly when our eyes meet.

“Why are you so terrified, kitten?”

Kitten? I nearly wilt but lock my knees at the last second.

“I’m sorry.” I rush the words out, forcing back the stutter.

His eyes pinch together as they roam my body. “Nothing to be sorry about, kitten; I ran into you.”

“All done!” Scarlett calls out before she whisper-shouts, “Sorry,” for yelling. The man’s lips turn up at the corners, and I have the insane thought that he could be devastatingly handsome if he smiled full on.

“Hi, Hester,” Nathan, Scarlett’s older brother, says from beside us. I try to pull from the man’s grasp, but he won’t let me go.