A Night to Remember (16 page)

“Maybe my motivation for volunteering is different from the norm, but I'm both able and willing to work.” Joshua glanced around nervously. “I won't . . . umm, have to do anything directly with the children, will I? Like read stories?”

For a moment she was thrown by the glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes. There was a rush to her heart that felt strangely like tenderness, but she squelched it. Finally, she had discovered something that seemed to crack that ultracompetent veneer.

“Don't you like kids?”

“I don't dislike children,” he clarified slowly. “But I know very little about them. I'm an only child, remember? No nieces or nephews to practice my child-friendly skills on.”

“Then you shouldn't be working in the children's department,” Eleanor declared, determined to exploit this marginal weakness. “I can send you up to the adult reference department or, better still, the technical services division. They work behind the scenes. You won't come in contact with any library patrons, only staff members. I noticed several cartons of books were delivered today, and an extra pair of hands is always welcome.”

“That rather defeats the whole purpose of my being here,” Joshua responded firmly.

Eleanor sighed. The discussion had come full circle and she was in exactly the same position she had been when it started, stuck with Joshua as a volunteer. The irony of that was not lost on her.

“How are your cutting skills?” Eleanor asked, giving into the inevitable yet hoping once he realized the type of simple jobs he would be asked to do, he'd change his mind. “The volunteers pre-cut the crafts for our programs. I'm sure you'll find that job riveting and intellectually stimulating.”

His gaze rambled over her body. “As long as I'm near you while I'm working, I'll be stimulated enough.”

She let out a sigh that was part frustration, part excitement. How would she ever be able to concentrate on anything with him around, when one sultry glance had her heart kicking nervously against her ribs? She probably would have found that flicker of admiration in his eyes demeaning coming from any other man, but not from him.

Beyond Joshua's head she could see the story room door move the barest fraction. “Okay, Mr. Volunteer, here's your first task. Seems like I've got some curious kids fooling around in the story room.”

He turned, then nodded his head, apparently understanding where she was indicating.

“I'd like you to go and chase whoever is in there out, and make sure they stay out of the room. If they've messed up the books and puppets, which I'm sure they have, put the materials back in their designated locations. All the cupboards are clearly marked, so you shouldn't have any difficulty figuring out where everything belongs.”

She pushed past him out of the office and headed in the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?”

The slight edge of panic she detected in his voice brought the first real smile to her lips. “I've got to check on the video equipment for my program. But don't worry. As you are so fond of saying, I'll be back.” She turned her head, smiled sweetly, and without breaking stride added, “Eventually.”

 

 

Joshua hefted the heavy stack of books onto the top shelf and lined them neatly along the edge, precisely as Eleanor had shown him. He flexed his shoulder muscles and reached for a second pile, surprised at how heavy they were. If he kept this up for a few weeks, he could cut his workout time in his home gym in half.

Once the books were all correctly aligned, he glanced over at the story room, verifying that the door remained closed. When he had gone in the room earlier, as ordered by Eleanor, he had discovered two energetic youngsters busily rifling through the books and puppets stacked on the shelves. They had shrieked with terror at his arrival, before he had even had a chance to ask them to stop.

Hearing the children's screams had brought their mother charging through the door, glaring at him like he was some sort of monster intent on brutal harm. Only his bright red volunteer badge had saved him. After seeing that he was in fact a member of the staff, the mother had left in a huff, shepherding her dear wee ones away from the
nasty man,
oblivious to the fact that if she had been keeping an eye on her kids in the first place, the incident never would have occurred.

Years of dealing with employees, clients, and competitors might have given him some keen insight and excellent instincts toward people, but they were useless in this environment of children and their mothers.

Joshua took another glance at the story room door and started on the next section of shelving. A tingle of awareness crept up his spine and he experienced the distinct feeling of being closely watched.

Preparing a sultry smile, he lifted his head, but instead of encountering Eleanor's lovely face, he found himself returning the stare of a little boy, possibly four, maybe five or even six years old. Having no frame of reference made it difficult for Joshua to judge.

“What are you doin'?” the child asked, coming closer.

“Moving the books.”

“Can I help?”

The eager, hopeful look on the boy's face canceled the immediate urge to refuse. “Maybe when I reach the lower shelf you can place a few of the books on the bottom,” Joshua replied, hoping the child would lose interest by then.

No such luck. Ten minutes later, the kid was still hanging around, chattering up a storm. About his dog, his little sister, his friend Mike, his mother, his new sneakers, and the toys he wanted Santa to bring him at Christmas, which was months and months away, but he was already making a list.

Joshua listened distractedly, trying to nod or offer an
uh-huh
in the appropriate spot. The high-pitched voice droned on, and Joshua managed to shift an entire section of books before noticing it had grown quiet. He glanced down, realizing the child's rambling flow of words had finally stopped, and the boy was now staring at Joshua with an expectant, hopeful expression. Problem was, Joshua had no idea what had been said.

“That's great,” he answered ambiguously.

The flashing sunny smile of delight was the only warning Joshua got. The child stretched up on his toes and reached for a book on the top shelf. He yanked it hard, knocking over several others. Like a stack of dominos they tumbled, then pitched forward, off the shelf. Joshua saw the books falling, but he couldn't move fast enough, and several hit him directly on the foot.

“Goddamn it!”

“Uh-oh, you said a bad word.”

“No, I didn't.” Joshua gritted his teeth against the stinging pain in his foot.

The boy shot him a conspiratorial look of admiration. “That's okay, I won't tell.”

“Thanks a lot,” Joshua muttered under his breath, gingerly lifting his injured foot, trying to shake off the throbbing pain.

Apparently unperturbed by the incident, the child of disaster bent over the mess on the floor and sorted through the pile. “I'm ready,” he declared.

“For what?”

“I asked you to read me a story. I like this one best.” He proudly held up the book he had selected.

Joshua opened his mouth to refuse, but stopped when he saw the title.
General Explorer Meets Miss Audry's Class.
It was one of Rosemary's books! And one of the few children's titles he was familiar with.

Following the trick he had observed Eleanor using the other day, Joshua knelt down until he and the child were at eye level. “Have you ever heard that story?” Joshua asked.

“Sure, lots of times. Will you read it?”

“I guess I'm about due for a break,” Joshua decided. He followed the child to a table and with difficulty folded himself into one of the pint-sized chairs.

Joshua read the book in a quiet tone, not wanting to disturb anyone else in the room or incite the tempers of any angry mothers. He had no notion of either the attention span or patience of a child at this age, but his new little friend appeared engrossed by the story.

The boy listened raptly, his forehead wrinkled as he concentrated on the drawings, occasionally running the tip of his finger over a section of the page. He smiled with pure enjoyment when the story ended and whispered a sincere thank-you. It gave Joshua a jolt of real pleasure to hear those words and see that smile. For the first time he felt a true understanding of what drew Eleanor to this type of work.

Joshua's legs were starting to cramp, but he felt reluctant to leave his young friend. “I bet you didn't know that I know the lady who wrote this book.”

“Really?”

“Her name is Rosemary Phillips. She's married to my dad.”

“My dad is married to my mom,” the boy replied philosophically, reaching across the table for the book. He fiddled with the plastic cover. “I like General Explorer a whole lot. Do you think maybe, sometime, you could get Rosemary's autograph for me?”

“Sure.” The suggestion lit a light bulb in Joshua's head. “If I can work things out, you might even get to meet her. Would you like that?”

“Yeah!”

“Great. I've got to talk it over with Ms. Graham first.” Joshua glanced over at the pile of books still scattered on the floor. “When I'm finished, maybe you can help me put those books back on the shelf.”

“I'm a good helper,” the child declared proudly. “My name is Henry. What's your name?”

“Nice to meet you, Henry. I'm Joshua.” He tried shaking hands with the youngster, but Henry just laughed. “Don't start picking up those books until I get back, okay?”

“Okay!”

Joshua pulled himself out of the small chair, but midway to his feet realized the pocket of his slacks was caught on the edge of the table. He hesitated, stuck in a half sitting, half standing position. While contemplating his next move he felt the chair starting to tip. Instinctively he reached back, righting it before it crashed to the floor.

The sudden movement saved the chair, but the distinct sound of material tearing told Joshua he hadn't saved his pants.

Henry must have heard it, too, for he announced in an authoritative voice, “Your mom's going to be really mad at you when she sees that.”

Joshua just shook his head. With an aching foot and a sizable rip at the side of his pants, he hobbled toward Eleanor's office.

“My goodness, what happened to you?”

“Volunteering,” Joshua responded with a flat smile. Her stricken expression made him feel like an inept fool. Slowly he eased into a chair, more relieved than he would admit that it was adult-sized. “Now I understand why you have volunteers to do these jobs. Regular staff would demand combat pay.”

“Joshua—”

“A few books fell, that's all. No big deal.”

“But your pants are ripped. I can see your underwear, for goodness sakes.”

“Is it turning you on?”

“Oh, please.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I take it that wasn't a cry of unbridled passion.”

“I think there's a sewing kit around here somewhere.”

His eyes remained closed as he listened to her opening desk drawers, searching for the sewing implements. A small cry of success let him know when she found it.

“Scoot closer to the edge of the chair so I can sew that rip closed. The thread color doesn't match your slacks very well, but this temporary repair will prevent you from getting arrested.”

Joshua opened his eyes and gazed with interest at her. “Maybe I should take my pants off?”

She arched one eyebrow.

“Got it. Pants stay on.”

He did as she instructed and moved to the edge of the chair. Without further comment, she knelt by his side and started stitching. They were alone in the office. Eleanor's face was a mask of concentration and she nibbled on her bottom lip as she pushed the needle carefully through the fabric.

Joshua took advantage of her relaxed proximity and nearness to observe her. The top buttons of her blouse were unfastened at the throat, affording him a perfect view of her tanned skin and lovely, full breasts that were straining against the cups of her bra. It was a heavenly sight.

“Stop looking down my blouse.”

She hadn't paused in her sewing or lifted her head. How had she known? Joshua cleared his throat. “I had an idea I wanted to run by you.”

The needle sailed in and out of the fabric. “I'm listening.”

Joshua launched into his pitch. “One of the many books that fell on my foot just now was one of Rosemary's, and I thought it might be nice if she came here to visit with the kids. She mentioned making appearances at bookstores, so she shouldn't object to coming to a library. If you want, I can call her and try to set something up.”

Finally the needle stopped. “Would you really ask her?”

Eleanor's hopeful eagerness reminded him of young Henry. “I can't guarantee she'll agree to come, but I'd be glad to ask.”

“That would be wonderful. We were really hoping to have an author visit this year, but there wasn't enough money in the budget.” The excitement left Eleanor's face. “Do you think Rosemary will expect an honorarium? Most authors do.”

Joshua shook his head. “She hardly needs the cash. I'll make all the transportation arrangements and she and my dad can stay with me while they are in town.”

“I'll get the program schedule so you can give Rosemary a wide selection of dates.” With a flourish Eleanor finished her stitches, knotted the end of the thread, and cut it off with small scissors. “I can't believe you thought of this! I almost asked Rosemary if she would visit the library when we were down at your father's, but I thought it would be too presumptuous. Especially since she believed I was your girlfriend. That would have definitely pressured her into saying yes.”