the flashlight off and getting to his feet.
Mr. Marcus was a tiny little guy. He must not have been much bigger than 5’ 4” and certainly no more than 120 lbs soaking wet. She searched for a word to describe him in her mind and all she could come up with was ‘cute’. Yes, he was probably 50 years old with a receding hairline, a face that was deeply tanned and grooved, his nose and ears were showing those middle aged signs of continued growth. Blanche made a mental note: ‘find out if only a man’s cartilage continues to grow until death or if women are equally affected,’ and she filed it in her mental ‘Night’ box. He was wearing a pair of coveralls that covered him from neck to ankles and then a bit more, with a patch above the pocket on his right side that said, ‘Marcus’.
She knew instantly without the least bit of hesitation that Marcus was a man who could be trusted. He met her inquisitive gaze with his own and saw within her blue eyes a spark of recognition and acceptance.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, um, ah, I’m sorry, was it Barbara?” he stammered.
“No, it’s my pleasure and it’s Blanche,” she said, with a broad smile on her face, not really understanding what it was about him that made her feel so good.
His smile was liberating and she felt like they’d been friends for years.
“Most round here call me Mr. Marcus, but I’ll answer to just about anything. You need to use the facility? I can wait a few minutes and guard the door fer ya,” he said, moving toward the entrance.
“Oh, no, not at all. I was just looking to make sure things were in order and I can see that you have this totally under control. So you just do whatever you do and I’ll leave you to it,” she said, once again unable to explain why it was that being in his presence almost made her feel euphoric.
“I shouldn’t be too long; maybe I should put a sign out or something ‘til I’m done.”
“I think that would be appropriate.” She backed to the door, gave a quick wave and headed to the Sciences — Anatomy book section of the library.
Six o’clock came quickly with the triage boxes empty including the ‘Never’ stuff, leaving Blanche to do what she loved most about working in a library, the ability to read. While at work she avoided her true favorite genre, the adventure romance, but she loved to learn new things so she explored a different section at every opportunity. Today Blanche had picked up a couple of books on real estate in hopes of learning some tricks before making a purchase. Before settling in for the last few hours of her shift, which she expected to be quieter than during the day, she said goodnight to the balance of the staff as they exited the building.
The teenagers were always happy when their volunteer hours were completed and Ester and Marcus departed at the same time, stopping at the desk to exchange pleasantries before leaving for the night.
“Well, I guess it’s just me and you tonight,” she said, looking at the books she had rounded up and placed on the desk. Flipping to page one she began to read.
Outside, Jared, one of the teen volunteers, was unchaining his bike from the rack when he saw Seymour running down the street toward the library.
“Yo Seymour, what’s up man?” the cheerful Jared shouted.
“Hey Jared, I’m late for work, Ester’s gonna be pissed,” Seymour managed to get out, taking in big gulps of air.
“Don’t sweat it, Mrs. Anderson’s gone for the night already. The new librarian is calling the shots tonight. You haven’t met her yet?”
“No, guess this is my first shift with her,” Seymour responded.
“You really ain’t seen Ms. Blanche Double D, dude?”
“Show some respect man, she’s my boss,” he said, tilting his head and raising a brow.
“No, dude, those are really her initials. We’ve been calling her that all week, at least the guys in the back and not to her face. She is built, but tries to hide it with her ‘librarian’ clothes,” the younger man excitedly declared.
“Ok, ok, I get the picture. Is she nice and all that?” Seymour further inquired.
“Yeah, she’s great, eats lunch with us and is real anxious to make a good impression. Maybe you could score a few brownie points with her, if you know what I mean,” Jared said.
“Not if I’m late on my first day, I’m not,” and with the exchange over he bounded up the steps and through the front door of the library.
Sitting on a chair that lifted her torso above the height of the desk was the most beautiful woman Seymour had ever seen. She was obviously engrossed in what she was looking at and didn’t even bother to acknowledge his entrance through the doors. Her head was tipped down, both hands on either side of her head covering her ears only moving one periodically to turn the page, returning her hand to her head. He dared not interrupt her as she seemed so picturesque and was so pleasing to look at. He moved closer in an effort to get a better view. With her head down, the angle provided a bird’s eye view down her blouse. He couldn’t help but blush getting such a view without her even knowing it, at least until she lifted her eyes and noted him taking in the sights.
“Like what you see?” she said with a hint of sarcasm.
“Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t want to disturb you. Looked like you were deep in thought.”
“Uh huh,” she replied straightening herself up and pulling the top of her blouse together. “Can I help you with something?”
“No, I mean yeah, I think you’re my new boss.”
“You must be Seymour then,” she surmised, reaching her hand across the desk to take his in a firm shake.
In doing so the scent of her perfume wafted across the distance between them and filled Seymour’s nostrils with the aroma of what he could not identify, other than to note that it must have been heaven sent. Her hand was soft, smooth, petite, but with strength he had not expected. He stood mesmerized, holding her hand and staring directly into her hypnotic blue eyes.
“Well, ok then, I think that will do for introductions,' she said, having to wrench her hand from his. 'I’m Ms. Delaney but you can call me Blanche, as long as we don’t have patrons around.”
She had to admit inwardly that she loved it when she had this effect on men, mostly seemed to be the young ones, as the older men always tried to play it cool, like they really knew the score, even though most were clueless.
“So, what’s on the agenda for the evening. Should I just do the normal stuff?” Seymour asked.
“Well, Seymour, I guess that depends on what the ‘normal stuff’ is?” she said, smiling at the young man and trying to make him feel at ease.
“Mrs. Anderson usually has me tidy the place up, you know, take the books off the tables and shelve them. Put the newspapers away and throw away any garbage that might be left behind from the day and stuff like that. Then before we close I need to run the vacuum around to make sure the carpets look good for tomorrow morning,” he said, pointing to the areas that were carpeted.
“That sounds like a good start. Yeah, go ahead and do your thing and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. There are still a few visitors over there (pointing), so try not to disturb them,” Blanche said.
“All right, I’ll get started, was really nice to meet you and I’m looking forward to having you,” he said, tripping over his tongue. “Having you to look at. Oh crap! That’s not what I meant either. What I’m trying to say is, I’m really looking forward to getting to know you and working with you. Thanks for being so understanding about me being a few minutes late,” he finally managed to get out.
“Late, were you late? Hadn’t noticed, please try to be prompt if you want to stay in my good books. Got that young man?” she jokingly said, pointing a delicate finger at him.
“Yes ma’am, I mean no ma’am you won’t see me coming in late again, thanks,” Seymour said, turning and tripping on the edge of the carpet propelling him into a bookshelf almost toppling it over. “Whew, that was a close call,” he said, looking back over his shoulder to see the blonde beauty back at her book studying intently.
“Well, I’m sure that little episode left quite an impression with her,” he thought, making himself busy with the evenings chores. He did note that she kept a close eye on him throughout the evening. “Must be one of those micro manager types,” he said to himself, each time he passed the desk and she looked up to see what he was up to. Always had a smile on her face though as if not seeing him but seeing through him, seemed kind of weird.
For Blanche, the day had been nicer than expected. She had made some new friends in Beverly and Marcus, and this new guy, Seymour, kind of intrigued her. He was too young to amount to anything romantic, but what a polite, pleasant young man. Couldn’t be any cuter; strong hands, and she’d paid special attention to his forearms when he’d clutched her hand in his.
