The Magic of Stories

6 - About Conny

My talk with Conny and the exchange with Cat left me motivated to make the best of my time in the library. The prospect of retaining a part-time job after Marjorie's recovery thrilled me, and I was determined to leave a positive impression with Conny and the customers.

On my last round at the end of a peaceful afternoon, I glimpsed Luca browsing the shelves in the fantasy department. I stopped, wondering if I was ready to confront him, but he dissolved after a piercing glance and a curt nod in my direction.

When I stepped into the library on Friday, I couldn't believe it was already a week since I worked here. The atmosphere made me feel at home, despite the ghostly visits, and I was eager to begin the day. A few of the regulars even greeted me by name, and my feeling of belonging increased. These retirees were always happy to chat and interested in exchanging book recommendations.

In the late afternoon, Amber and Danny came in, waved a greeting and settled in the children's corner, where the boy browsed in a comic book. As soon as I was free, Amber strolled over.

"Hey Lynn, do you have a minute?"

"Sure, how can I help you?"

She handed me the copy of the Hitchhiker's Guide with a grin almost as broad as Cat's. "I'd like to get the next one. Or perhaps the complete series, if you don't mind. With the weather forecast for the weekend, I plan to snuggle up in front of the fireplace with hot cocoa and read."

"Ah, sounds like the perfect program for a rainy day. So you enjoyed the book?"

She threw out her arms in a theatrical gesture. "I was flabbergasted. Although I won't tell Mum about it."

"Why not? She might like it as well."

Amber ran a finger over the glaring cover and shook her head. "I doubt she's into Sci-Fi. She'll just seize the opportunity and remind me to stick with the boring classics I am supposed to study for school."

"To Kill a Mockingbird?"

She laughed. "I liked this one, but it's the exception. Sometimes, I think it's not the books I hate, but discussing every detail of the deeper symbolism used by the author. I always feel like authors are just humans too, with the gift of packing their imagination into adequate words."

She wasn't bad with words either. "I guess you're right, and in my experience, some people read too much into a story. Do you know your mum's reading preferences?"

"It may be strange, with her working in a library, but I can't remember what she used to read, and I don't think she touched a book in the last three years." She took a deep breath and released the air in a soft hiss. "Since she works full hours and with helping Danny with the homework on top of running the household, most days, she falls asleep during the evening news on the telly."

"Mmm, she told me about your father. I'm sorry."

Her shoulders sagged. "Look, I try to support her, and we manage most of the time. But she seems so uptight and stressed these days—I can't help thinking it would be good for her to get among people and learn to relax again. This time of the year is always worst, because Dad died in February. With everyone celebrating Saint Valentine, it brings her down further."

"Doesn't she have friends?"

"A few, but I think some of the old family friends stay away because they don't know how to treat her. We've seen some awkward stuff, believe me. Well, my grandparents are super supportive, and Dad's sister helps too, but she can't replace Dad. I think Mum should meet a man—or a woman. I don't care."

Trust a teenager to bring things to the point. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Conny didn't stand behind me and the door to the office was closed. "Perhaps she will, in time."