Chapter Seven
You’vegotaloton your shoulders.” I smooth my hand up and down her back. “I have some ideas about these books, if you’ll let me help you—”
“Miss Goode! Miss Goode!” Three tiny demons rush into the room with wide eyes, looking at the messy stacks of books everywhere.
“Ah ah ah, no kiddos in this room.” Noelle wipes her eyes quickly and pastes on a smile, twisting on her skates to shoo them out the door. “Time for class.”
We make our way to the front desk as they tug at her shirt and try to peer into her supply bags. She does a spin in her skates for them, swishing the goodies above her head. With a little wave to me, she’s leading them in song to the Little Critters sitting area, like the cutest pied piper I’ve ever seen.
It’s clear she’s an amazing head librarian, but what a gut punch to hear about her uncle. No wonder she’s on the verge of tears trying to deal with that and keep this old library running.
I see the Returns sign and the realization hits me. Shoot! The books I need to bring back are still in the car. If I want to check out more, I’ll need to return those first.
On my walk back from the overpriced parking lot with my books in hand, a familiar voice rasps to my right.
“You really fucked up.”
I spin to find Old Ethel in the alley behind her store, smoking with her face toward the sky. Demons love the sun — the first fire in the darkness. We soak up its heat like the cold-blooded creatures all the terrible tales said we were in ancient times.
I pause and wonder if she was even talking to me, but when I move to keep walking, she peeks at me with one blood-red eye.
“Number one rule in winning a woman over? Don’t fuck them over first.” She cranes her weathered face back to the sun with a pleased smile. “I suppose that puts me closer to winning our little bet, huh? $500 does sound nice.”
“Fuck her over? You mean Noelle?” Who cares about that dumb bet I made with her the other day about dating Noelle.
She flicks her ash in a dusty arc. “Renting the building right out from under her constitutes that, I’d say.”
The new Perkatory?
“What does she want that building for?” I’m utterly lost. “I know she’s got a fundraiser, but there’s no way she’s expanding the library to the neighboring building.”
Noelle made it clear she’s struggling with her budget, and it’s apparent enough from the inside — old posters, weathered carpet, the same musty furniture since I was a kid.
“She wanted to move the library,” Old Ethel says. “Start fresh.”
“What? Why?” It physically pains me to think of the library being anywhere but that old building on the corner. If it wasn’t there, my memories would be nothing but a figment of my imagination. The best days of my childhood would have no home.
“Who knows?” She shrugs. “That girl’s been making a big fuss about this fundraiser for months now.”
My jaw sets as I move a step closer, growling. “And you gave her two measly dollars for her trouble, I noticed. Big help.”
She points her long cigarette at me. “Demons don’t give anything away for free, especially money.”
I sigh and fist my hands at my hips. She’s just like my parents. It’s not that demonkind aren’t charitable. It’s just that most of us are raised to think that asking for donations comes across as weak. Poorly thought out. Bad business. But I know how Noelle thinks, and it’s not a bad thing. She assumes everyone is willing to give the shirt off their back just like she would.
“Well, thanks for nothing then.” I wave at her and walk back to the library, stopping in front of my empty coffee shop. The new Perkatory. Proof my family has really made it as a national chain by coming back to the small town we had nothing in. I realize now it was probably a point of pride for my parents to show everyone here that we made it.
But guilt eats at me. The numbers don’t lie. I know this place will be a huge boon to the local community. If anything, Perkatory should bring more people to the library.
Why did she want this lease? The building is half the square footage of the library. It has a lot of modern upgrades, and if she has some new vision for the library, I guess I can understand the appeal of starting fresh.
Maybe it’s the increased rent she mentioned. That’s a shitty reason to downsize. Doesn’t feel right. Noelle’s always been sentimental, and she clearly takes her family’s history maintaining the library in that building seriously.
I pick up my phone and call Mr. Jones, the real estate agent who settled the lease with me. He confirms that Noelle’s been trying to rent the new Perkatory location for months, but her budget was way below their lowest acceptable monthly rate. The way he laughs at her negotiation attempts sets my teeth on edge.
He confirms the other available buildings in town were already either snatched up or don’t fit her needs. The old library building she’s in is owned by a large real estate conglomerate he gives me the name of.
I grumble a polite goodbye and hang up.
My hackles are up. People think they can push her around? It’s total bullshit.
I make a call to her landlord. After some patience, I’m connected with the account manager for their real estate holdings in this area.
“We have a long-term tenant in place but always open to offers,” they say in a chipper tone.
I huff, irritated they’d work behind her back like that. “I passed by the building today looking for a new site for my national brand, but it could really use some work. The best I can offer is half off the price on your site.”
“That’s below a threshold we’re prepared to negotiate.”
“Your loss.” I hang up.
Sure, it’s rude and yeah, I’m bluffing. I know the building’s old but otherwise have no idea the state of it. That wasn’t the point. I want to set them on edge, get them thinking the building isn’t worth the higher rate they’re demanding of Noelle. That way, if she does want to negotiate, it’s an opening.
I shoot off a quick email to my lawyer and ask her to dig into the specifics of the existing building. It’s a historic property. There’s got to be rules and regulations around maintenance of those. I don’t know anything about her budget, but information is the best asset in business, and if I can help her, I will.
With my stack of books under my arm, I march back to the library, intent on getting to the bottom of all this fundraiser business.
Noelle’s musical voice drifts from the backroom, reminding me she’s in the middle of a class.
I loiter near the front table decorated with a mini evergreen tree, mistletoe, and a few candle holders representing various human winter holidays. There are decorations for some fae and orc traditions as well, but the table is dominated by a red and yellow display. The Advent of the Honest, demonkind’s most sacred holiday, is a two-week long affair that ends on New Year’s Eve.
So many beliefs and cultures are grouped together on one festive little table.
This is what a library can do — celebrate everything all at once. It’s a place where treasures are kept on display, never hoarded and always shared. Anyone can pick a book up off the shelf and expand their mind or find a cozy place to reread an old favorite.
A stack of her fliers sits on the edge of the table. I pick one up.
Fundraiser! Save Our Library!
I place my books next to the Returns sign at the end of the counter. The demon girl behind the circulation desk doesn’t seem in a chatty mood anyway. I walk back to the Little Critters area. Like the rest of this town, everything looks the same but so much smaller, more precious somehow, now that I know it’s all in jeopardy.
Noelle’s back is to me as she reads a book to the dozen or more kids sitting cross-legged on the threadbare circular rug. Most of them are demonkind, which twists my heart in the best way. I guess not every demon family is as single-minded as my parents were in enforcing a business-only education, not that I can fault them for it. They were doing their best.
The story she narrates is about a horse exploring the ocean, one of our favorites growing up. The kids all look up at her with stars in their eyes. I know the feeling. Hearing her narrate a book is pure magic. Her hands move in dramatic arcs and each character gets a unique, dramatic voice. She embodies their emotions so well, taking us on a journey with her, pausing with dramatic effect right at a climactic scene.
Noelle has always understood what makes stories so important. Adventure. Connection. Self-growth.
For me, books were usually a means of escape. First, from the pain of recovering from my injuries while I was in the hospital. Then, my loneliness as a child living with scars that made others stare. I like being alone, always have. In that way, this library was my sanctuary, a place I wasn’t just the demon boy with thick glasses and an ugly face. I could get lost and be someone new for a few hours.
Making friends with Noelle changed everything. I started to see books for what they could teach me, how I could understand people and the world around me differently.
This library is important. It can’t fail. The town needs it too much.
What the library needs, what Noelle needs, is support to grow stronger, not a place she has to shrink to fit.
She sets the book down and moves on to craft time, passing out supplies to each kid. When she talks them through the day’s craft, making a braided bookmark, I get choked up.
“The holidays are just around the corner!” She ruffles two boys’ dark hair between their horns. They must be twins. She moves to separate a nearby gaggle who are fighting over supplies. “There’s enough for everyone, and you only need three colors. Use the safety scissors! We have twenty minutes left of class, so focus kiddos. Make as many as your fast little fingers can braid. These are gifts everyone will love. Make them for your parents or siblings or even your best friend, anyone who needs a reminder of how special they are to you.”
Emotion burns in me, wishing I could turn back time and never leave this town. But I also know that’s impossible. Fate turned out differently, and we are who we are for a reason.
We reconnected at this moment in time for a reason.
I turn around and walk out of the library.
Could I wait until Noelle’s class is over and steal a moment of her time in between her other ten tasks? Absolutely. I’ve got nothing to do today.
Am I going to? Absolutely not.
I came to Winter Bliss to open a coffee shop, but that’s not what really matters right now.
When I get to my car, the flier is fisted in my hand. I flatten it on the dash and pull up my phone, depositing another $100 to her fundraiser and drafting a text.
Whether she’d ever be interested in me romantically or not, friends look out for each other. I have business acumen that can help her. I know it. But I don’t think Noelle will stop moving long enough to tell me about what’s really going on with the library unless I get her alone.
She and I need to have a little chat.