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THE NEXT HOUR WAS SPENT following up for a patron on a challenging reference question while being intermittently interrupted by problems with self-checkout, logging patrons onto the computers, and showing a new volunteer around the library. I also made some flyers about the upcoming self-defense class with the police chief and put another reminder about it on our social media feeds.
At that point, Emily was ready for the orange cat to return to the lounge. I picked up the languorous animal, still purring in his half-sleep, made my goodbyes to Emily, and put the cat safely back in the breakroom.
Luna entered the breakroom and stooped to see the orange cat who was already a happy puddle at the continued attention.
“Everything okay with the upset lady?” asked Luna, giving her a sideways look.
“All fine. She was Roger’s aunt and the one who set up our date to begin with,” I said. “She thought a lot of her nephew and was understandably upset. But our new cat really seemed to settle her down. He has a calming effect.”
Luna nodded and walked over to the fridge, pulling out what appeared to be a fearsomely fibrous salad with the incongruous side of a packaged honeybun laden with white icing. “You know, I’ve taken a glance through our entries online and in the library. They’re not looking too good.”
I made a face. “I glanced at it a little while ago and it looked like there were a lot of entries.”
“Yeah, but have you seen the entries?” Luna chuckled. “There’s nothing that really screams ‘library cat’ yet.”
“How bad could they be?” I asked.
“Although you very carefully noted the cat’s gender, there still appears to be some confusion out there. We have a Tinkerbell and a Molly and a Bella so far. The others are aggressively generic: Tiger, Morris, Leo.”
I made a face, which could have also been intended for the weedy salad she was now consuming. “No terrific literary options?”
“None that I saw. Unless you want to count Tinkerbell,” said Luna.
I considered this. “Ordinarily, I’d say we hadn’t given anyone enough time to enter a name. And it’s usually good to stretch these things out for better engagement from our community. But the truth of the matter is that this guy deserves a name and probably needs to be already learning it. Emily, Roger’s aunt, did give me one suggestion: Fitz, short for Fitzgerald.”
Luna nodded, tilting her head and considering the cat. “You know, I can totally envision that for him. And I like it better than some male literary names I was mulling over: Hemingway, Tom Sawyer, Queequeg, or Kafka.”
I resisted making another face at Queequeg and Kafka. “I did think Heathcliff might be cute, but the cartoon strip sort of took over that one, didn’t it?”
Luna said, “That sounds like the best one so far.”
“I’ll run it by Wilson when I have a chance,” I said. “Although I got the impression he didn’t so much care what name we choose as long as it’s soon.” I glanced at my watch. Breaktime was over, but I realized Luna had been on her own most of her first day and that Wilson, although a good boss in many ways, probably hadn’t thought to check in with her much. It was a tribute to Luna’s aura of equanimity and confidence that I hadn’t even realized this. “How is the first day going so far? What kind of impression do you have of the library?”
She grinned at me. “It’s perfect, I promise. Really, I appreciate that you keep checking in, but you asked me earlier.”
“Just wanting to make sure you still feel good about the library closer to the end of the day. I’d hate to have you scared off on day one.”
“No worries! It feels homey and cozy and safe. It’s the kind of place where families come every Saturday to check out books and magazines and music for their kids. The folks are nice, they’re mostly courteous, and there are always people in here and things to do. What’s not to like?” asked Luna.
I nodded, feeling a little relieved. After the chaos of the last few months following CeCe Appleberry’s abrupt departure as children’s librarian, it was good to have this immediate feeling from Luna that she’d found a good spot to stick around in. I could definitely handle the children’s section and the storytimes, but I’m not going to say I was the best candidate or that the extra work wasn’t tough to juggle.
“That’s great, Luna. Please just grab me if you have any questions or problems. And now my breaktime is over, so I’d better run.”
“Sounds good. And hey—I wanted to thank you again for taking over for me for storytime this morning. I’m really sorry I was late. I thought I’d work late tonight to try to make up for it,” said Luna.
I shook my head. “There’s no need to do that, Luna. Wilson sure doesn’t expect it. And there won’t be a lot of folks here on a Saturday night.”
“I know, but I feel bad. On my first day, too! I have a container of antibacterial wipes in my car and I thought I’d go through and wipe down all the toys in the children’s section. And maybe the board book covers, too. Who knows what kinds of germs might be lurking on that stuff?” she asked with a lopsided grin.
“Seriously, Luna, you should probably go home to see about your mother,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ve already checked in with her and she has a lady from church dropping by to bring her a meal and visit for a bit, so I’d only be in the way while they talk about knitting and quilting. No, I think it will be fun to do a little cleaning. There’s something really satisfying about it. How about you? Got any plans for tonight?” asked Luna, temporarily abandoning her grotesque salad for the glazed honeybun.
“Just a meal with a friend of mine,” I said.
Luna raised her eyebrows. “A date?”
I made a face. “I don’t think there will be any dates for a while. No, this is just takeout with my old college professor. I want to hear how his discussion with Burton went.”
After work, I picked up the food and headed over to Nathan’s house, a one-story brick house with a beautiful yard. Although Nathan had retired, he definitely hadn’t chosen to withdraw from the community. He took long walks with his adorable Yorkshire terrier, Mr. Henry, speaking with neighbors along the way, visited the library regularly and took the occasional class there, and was involved with his church.
He beamed at me when he opened the door, his white hair, as usual, slightly askew. There was a tiredness in his eyes today, though, which wasn’t ordinarily there. The diminutive Mr. Henry peered around Nathan, barking bravely at me. “So good to see you, Ann! Where should we sit . . . inside, or outside?”
I knew his backyard was a mini nature preserve, so I immediately voted for outside. He took the bag of takeout from me, grabbed some bottled waters from his fridge, and led me and a happily trotting Mr. Henry to his back patio. We sat at a small table that looked out on flowering azalea bushes, miniature magnolias, and a collection of bird feeders. Mr. Henry gave me a doggy grin and gazed with interest at me with his bright button eyes.
While we ate, Nathan talked about what he’d been doing: the book club he’d joined that he was now leading, the puzzle books he’d been devouring since he’d discovered how much he enjoyed cryptograms, and the fact he’d made a lady friend in town at church and was enjoying getting acquainted with her. He seemed determined not to mention Roger Walton or the chief of police while we were eating.
Once we’d eaten most of our food, Nathan said quietly, “Now I suppose I should tell you how my afternoon went.” He hesitated and said, “First off, tell me how you ended up involved with Roger.”