Forever, Interrupted(30)

“I’ve been here for two minutes and twenty-seven seconds, Elsie!” he joked as he stepped in.

“Sorry, Mr. Callahan came to the front door and I had to let him in.”

“Mr. Callahan is here?” Ben’s face lit up. He had never met Mr. Callahan but had heard me talk about him, about how I found his devotion to his wife to be one of the more romantic real-life sentiments I had ever witnessed. Ben always said when he was ninety, he’d treat me the same way. I had only known Ben for about three weeks, so while it was a sweet thing to say, it was also foolhardy and arrogant. It was na?ve and intoxicating. “Can I meet him?”

“Sure,” I said. “Come help me put a few last books in order and we can go find him.” Ben came with me to finish up, contributing in no way to my reordering of the books. He hung back and read the spines as I told him all about finding Buddhism: Plain and Simple stuck up in a nook of the ceiling.

“How did you get it down?” he said, only half listening to me. His attention seemed focused on the stacks.

“I didn’t,” I told him. “It’s right there.” I pointed above us to the thin, white book stuck precariously between the metal grid and the popcorn panel. He walked toward me, standing right over me. Our bodies were so close that his shirt was touching mine. The skin on his arm just barely touched mine. I could smell his deodorant and his shampoo, smells that had become sensual to me because of how often I smelled them in sensual situations. His neck was craned upward, checking out the book in the ceiling.

“Those tricky bastards,” Ben marveled, then he turned back to face me. He could now appreciate how close we were. He looked at me and then looked around us.

“Where’s Mr. Callahan?” he asked. He asked it in a way that clearly let me know he was asking something else entirely.

I blushed. “He’s a few walls over,” I said.

“Seems pretty private back here,” he said. He didn’t move toward me to grab me. He didn’t need to.

I giggled, girlishly. “It is,” I said. “But it would be—”

“Right,” he said. “That would be . . . ”

Was it getting hotter? I honestly thought maybe it was getting hotter. I thought it was getting hotter and quieter, as if the air itself was becoming more intense around us.

“It would be crazy,” I said, matter-of-factly, doing my best to stop this before it started. He wouldn’t. I knew he wouldn’t. Right there in the library? I was certain that I was the only one actually considering it. And so I put my foot down. I stepped away slightly, put the book in my hand into its place on the shelf, and announced that we needed to go check on Mr. Callahan.

“Okay,” Ben said, putting his hands up in surrender. He then put one arm out as if to invite me to lead us there. I walked in front of him, and when we were almost out of the World Religions stacks, he teased me.

“I would have done it,” he said.

I smiled and shook my head. I had never felt so desirable, had never realized how feeling that desirable made me feel like I could do anything in the world.

We found Mr. Callahan right where he’d said he’d be.

“What is all of this?” Mr. Callahan said to me as he saw us coming up to meet him. “I thought there would be a few books back here. This section is bigger than the new releases!”

I laughed. “There are a lot of young adult books lately, Mr. Callahan. Kids love reading now.”

He shook his head. “Who knew?” Mr. Callahan already had a book in his hand.

“Mr. Callahan, I’d like you to meet Ben.” I gestured to Ben, and Mr. Callahan grabbed Ben’s outstretched hand.

“Hello, son,” he said and took his hand back. “Strong grip on you, good to see.”

“Thanks,” Ben said. “I’ve heard a lot about you and I wanted to meet the man behind the legend.”

Mr. Callahan laughed. “No legend here. Just an old man who forgets things and can’t walk as fast as he used to.”

“Is that for you?” Ben asked, gesturing to the book.

“Oh, no. My great-granddaughter. I’m afraid I’m a bit lost in this section. This book takes up a whole shelf, though, so I figured it’s pretty popular.” Mr. Callahan held up a copy of a supernatural franchise. The kind of book that gets the kids reading in the first place, even if it is insipid, so I couldn’t knock it. He had the third book in his hand, and I had a hunch he couldn’t tell that the whole shelf was actually four different installments with similar covers and motifs. His fine vision probably was not what it used to be, and they probably all looked the same.

“That’s actually the third one,” I said. “Did you want me to find the first one?”

“Please,” he said.

Ben gingerly grabbed the book out of his hand. “If I may, Mr. Callahan.” He put the book back in place and stopped me from picking up the first of the series.

“I’m categorically against all books about vampires in love with young women. Those books always make it seem like being bitten to the point of death is a form of love.”

I looked at Ben, surprised. He sheepishly looked back at me. “What?”

“No, nothing,” I said.

“Anyway,” he continued, focused on Mr. Callahan. “I’m not sure it’s the best influence for your great-granddaughter. I can only assume you want her to grow up believing that she can do anything, not just sit around lusting for the undead.”