Chapter 13 Flynn
THIRTEEN
FLYNN
"We need more space." Clark stood in the doorway of our bedroom for the third time this week, eyeing the stacks of baby books that had somehow multiplied overnight.
At seven months pregnant, my mate was getting bigger every day, and our tiny apartment above the bookstore was becoming impossible to navigate. We'd already converted half the living room into a makeshift nursery, but there simply wasn't enough room for a growing family.
"I know." I looked up from the pregnancy manual I'd been studying. "I found a place online this morning. A three bedroom apartment, just a block away. The landlord said we could see it this afternoon."
My mate's face lit up. "Really? Three bedrooms?"
"One for us, one for the baby, and one for your writing. There's even a small balcony." I paused. "It's more expensive, but with how well the store's been doing..."
“I can’t wait to see it.” He settled onto the couch beside me, one hand automatically going to his belly. "When can we move?"
“Slow down. We haven’t seen it yet.”
I called the landlord and they accommodated our desire to view the apartment in an hour. We both fell in love with it. It had big windows, a modern kitchen and bathroom and lots of space. We signed the contract lickety split and boom, we were moving.
But I looked around at the towers of books that filled every available surface in our current place. "I have no idea how we're going to move all of this."
In the years I'd lived above the store, I'd accumulated what could only be described as a small library's worth of books. They lined the walls and occupied every corner. The thought of packing them all was overwhelming.
"We'll figure it out." Clark's easy optimism was what had first drawn me to him. "Maybe we can rent a truck?"
"It would take a dozen trips." I ran my hands through my hair. "And that's assuming we could get everything down the stairs without dropping anything."
The bell from the store chimed below us, and I sighed. "I should go help whoever's down there."
"I'll come with you. I need to get off this couch anyway."
Downstairs, Mrs. Lewis was browsing the new arrivals with her usual enthusiasm. She looked up when we appeared, her face immediately creasing with concern.
"Clark, dear, you look tired. Are you getting enough rest?"
"As much as I can." My mate settled into one of the reading chairs we'd added. "We're moving to a bigger apartment. Our place upstairs is so cramped."
She asked about our new place and my mate showed her pics.
"You should see upstairs. I think Flynn owns more books than some libraries."
She laughed. "Well, of course he does. What did you expect from a bookseller?" She paused, looking thoughtful. "You know, when are you planning to move? Because I'm sure some of us would be happy to help."
"That's very kind," I began, but she was already warming to the idea.
"No, really!” She added that we’d done so much for this community. “The readings and the family atmosphere you've created here have brought people together.” And she explained how grateful the shifter community was.
“The least we can do is help you move."
Before I could object, the bell chimed again, and the Murphy family came in with their kids and Mr. Torres. Mrs. Lewis launched into an explanation of our moving situation, and within minutes, it seemed like half our regular customers were volunteering to help.
"We could form a chain." Mr. Torres pointed toward the street. He ran the coffee shop next door. "Pass the books from your apartment to the new place. It would be much faster than carrying boxes up and down stairs."
"A book chain!" Samuel Murphy clapped his hands. "Like a bucket brigade, but with stories!"
My mate was grinning beside me, clearly delighted by the outpouring of support. "Flynn, what do you think?"
I looked around at our customers who'd become friends, families who'd made our store a regular part of their lives and neighbors who cared about our well-being. Six months ago, I would have politely declined and insisted on handling everything myself. But that was before I met Clark and he’d sunshined his way into my heart and I'd learned what it was to be part of a community.
“That would be amazing. If you're all sure you don't mind."
"Mind?" Mrs. Lewis scoffed. "Flynn Tolliver, we're pack. Of course we don't mind."
And so on the Saturday morning of our move, I was in our book filled apartment, watching in amazement as neighbors filed up my narrow stairs.
Alpha had driven in with several other pack members, Dr. Bauer had closed her office for the morning, Clark’s friend, Miranda was here, and some of the parents from Clark's readings had shown up with their kids.
"Okay, everyone." My mate took charge with the ease of someone who'd organized countless school events. "Flynn's going to stay up here and hand books to the first person. We'll form a line from here to the new apartment, and pass them along. No throwing, and if you need a break, just call out."
"What about the rare books?" Martin had turned up and he eyed my first edition shelf with the respect it deserved.
"Those I'll carry myself." I moved toward my most valuable volumes. "But everything else..."
"Everything else, we've got." Mrs. Lewis’s tone brooked no argument and I understood how much Alpha took after his human mom. "Now, let's get this show on the road."
I reminded her that some of the helpers were human so she should tamp down the talk of the pack.
What followed was remarkable. I’d never seen anything like it.
The human and shifter chain stretched from our apartment door, down the fire escape, along the sidewalk, and up to the second-floor of our new place.
Books passed from hand to hand like precious cargo that included poetry collections and cooking manuals, science fiction novels and children's picture books along with philosophy texts and romance paperbacks.
The kids treated it like a game, carefully cradling each book and announcing interesting titles as they passed them along.
"Ooh, this one has a dragon on the cover!"
”Look, this book is in French!"
"Why does this man have so many books about wolves?"
Clark stationed himself at the receiving end, and had helpers organizing books into rough categories as they arrived. Even seven months pregnant, he moved with surprising energy, and he was clearly enjoying directing the literary migration.
"Flynn." Mr. Torres called out from his position halfway down the chain. "Exactly how many books do you own?"
"I stopped counting at three thousand." My admission earned groans and laughter from the volunteers.
The morning flew by in a blur of carefully passed volumes and easy camaraderie.
People took breaks in shifts, but no one left.
Parents brought snacks, teenagers ferried boxes of non-book items, and elderly customers provided running commentary on my literary choices. I was so emotional I almost cried.
By mid afternoon, we'd successfully relocated the majority of my library. The volunteers dispersed with promises to check out the new apartment once we were settled, and Clark and I stood in our new living room, surrounded by towers of books waiting to be shelved.
"I can't believe we did that." Clark sank into the one chair we'd managed to position.
"I can't believe everyone did that." I surveyed the organized mess around us. "Six months ago, I barely knew half of those people."
"And now look at you. Mr. Popular with his community book chain." He grinned at me. "Your lone wolf days are definitely over."
I looked around our new space. It already seemed like a home, something my old place never did. Maybe because this wasn't just my space anymore; it was ours.
"You know what the best part is?" My mate struggled to his feet and came over to me. "We have more space for books.” He suggested I could create a library in his office but he had dibs on the space during the day.
I agreed to the deal and pulled him and his growing belly close. "A library that half the neighborhood helped move."
"A library they care about." His correction was important. "Because they care about us."
My wolf settled contentedly inside me, recognizing the truth of it. This was what pack felt like. It was this organic network of people who showed up when you needed them. And today, our “pack” was made up of shifters and humans.
"Come on." Clark tugged my hand. "Let's go set up the nursery. I want everything ready before this little one makes their debut."
I followed him toward what would become our baby's room, already imagining how we'd arrange it. But first, I paused to look out the window at the street below, where some of our volunteers were still chatting on the sidewalk, reluctant to let the day end.
Six months ago, I'd been alone with my books and my carefully guarded solitude. Now I was part of something beautiful, messy and real.