18. Release The Professional Birthday Celebrant #3
“You are now initiated into the Society of the Loud Readers. It is an ancient order of pages pledged to conquer three books a day, and then and only then, to make loud noises.”
On the other side of the shelf, Lily made an extraordinary wheezing sound that still wasn’t as loud as the one that had emerged from this boy’s mouth, then Jonathan heard her feet move off at a pace he knew was not allowed during normal library operations.
“Can you uphold our chivalric traditions, Sir Kaden?”
“Ye-e-e-s.” His eyes were huge and excited.
“Then return next week and let me know how you do.” Jonathan leaned across the book cart and lowered his voice. “Until then, burp in secret. It is the way.”
Kaden’s mother had her hand over her mouth, nodding at Jonathan and jiggling the baby. She guided her son away and Jonathan checked his cardigan for stray neon orange crackers flecks.
None. He’d escaped unscathed from his encounter with Young Sir Kaden.
Lily trotted around the end of the shelf. “You need to go outside and check the drop box. Now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Go outside and check the drop box. I’ll finish this.”
As he pushed through the double doors, he felt bouncy, almost like when he’d practiced jumps on a trampoline. In a few hours, he’d see Connor at the softball game.
Above the book slot, someone had taped a sign that featured a sticker of Ribby wearing a shiny cone-shaped party hat, mouth open and tongue lolling out in a perfect Ribby smile.
Next to Ribby, large letters said: Drop Box works, but Librarian Jonathan’s Birthday is today.
If you have time, go inside and wish him a Happy Birthday. He likes Dad jokes!
Even if the photo of Ribby hadn’t been included, Jonathan would have known the culprit. No wonder people had streamed in to find him, pushed by a grinning dog and pulled by the thought of a captive audience.
After he snapped a photo of the sign, professionalism compelled him to remove it. He made sure the tape didn’t rip the edges of the paper.
Jonathan waited until his lunch break to text.
He imagined Connor vibrating with curiosity about the success or failure of his scheme, checking his texts, and every time he found nothing from Jonathan, he’d have to pet Ribby and mutter things about patience or dog ears or strikes and balls.
That would be the situation at the house on Harris Street.
He nibbled a piece of salami. Connor knew his lunch was at one, so Jonathan decided to wait until at least eight or nine minutes after the hour before he texted.
A morning’s worth of Dad-jokes wasn’t going to undo a lifetime of being himself.
Connor had packed Jonathan’s lunch today, and given him separate containers of cherry tomatoes, Genoa salami slices, and cubes of sharp cheddar, as well as a sliced apple and another scone slathered in jam and tightly wrapped to prevent drips.
While eating his second slice of salami, the pattern of food in front of him clicked.
The goofball had packed him a gourmet, homemade Lunchables.
And he was eating it and it was delicious.
He was going to thank Connor for this lunch and the whole excessive day by bending him over the foot of the bed.
Not the back of the couch, they’d learned their lesson about the couch.
It was only four minutes after the hour. He crunched an apple slice.
He should wait longer, but he knew that one hundred percent of the “Am I The Asshole” commenters would say making the man who had packed him a cute baby lunch wait for a thank you was an asshole move.
He could turn in a gold statuette worthy performance of being a better person if he kept getting homemade scones and sliced apples.
Jonathan
Well played.
Connor
What
Jonathan
You know exactly to what I am referring.
Connor
Maybe you’ll tell me
Jonathan
I definitely will.
After the game, you’re going to sit with your hands on your lap while I tell you every single joke I heard today.
I can do whatever I want to you when I tell you a joke, but you will not be allowed to move.
No laughing.
No talking.
You will not make a sound.
You will sit.
Connor
Yes I want to do that I want be good and quiet
He pictured Connor being obedient, sitting on the edge of his bed, legs spread apart.
He’d order Connor to be naked for this while he, Jonathan, told jokes and took off a piece of clothing with each punchline. Connor would like that and it would have him struggling and quivering at the same time.
He knew the shade of pink that would spread across Connor’s skin, the way his blond hair darkened to almost, but not quite, brown as it spread down his chest, how his thighs would shake and the white dents where his fingertips would press into his leg muscles.
His gaze would fix on Jonathan, parted lips and big eyes and strawberry-dusted cheeks. He would give Jonathan all his attention.
Jonathan
Don’t let your fingers make promises the rest of you can’t keep.
Connor
If I move
Wwill you punish me
Win win
Jonathan
We have to talk about something else. I’m at the library.
Connor
Ok
My birthday is August 9. I’m a Leo
Jonathan
Of course you are.
Connor
I’ll reserve a few hours for you on August 7 in my craft room
Jonathan
Sorry, my job gives me all the craft opportunities I can handle.
We are currently debating names for our summer craft program.
I cannot handle more anthropomorphic yarn, stickers, popsicle sticks, or obnoxious-faced emojis giving me elaborate instructions.
Connor
Acutally I’ll probably be at the ranch, I’m sorry
I always go for a couple weeks at my birthday
Jonathan had to stop chewing and swallow. He needed more water. If Connor had done all of this, roped in complete strangers to help Jonathan feel special, how was he going to give that feeling back?
Teasing him and pretending like he was going to ignore his birthday wouldn’t be fun if Connor wasn’t going to be around and Jonathan wouldn’t be able to do the opposite.
Connor
Maybe I’ll come back early this year
Jonathan
I would like that.
Please.