A Note in the Margin (2 page)

John raised his eyebrows
and
his voice at the comment. “Jamie! Come on!”

Looking back to see if Jamie was following, John caught him leaning in to whisper something to David before giggling and jogging toward the counter.

“He is a good person, John. Please don’t chase him out,” Jamie pleaded when he caught up.

“Your mum’s not the only one who’s a soft touch,” John responded, but at least he was smiling. He’d already decided to deal with the David issue another day.

The
rest of the day was spent with John, sitting at the small table beside the counter going through the ordering system, ringing distributors, and introducing himself. He was comfortable with that and gradually began to believe that the next twelve months were at least doable. There’d been a steady trickle of customers throughout the day but he left them to Jamie. John smiled at Jamie’s mix of ease and enthusiasm when dealing with people; it was obvious that they adored him, especially the older women. He was a definite asset to the business.

Just before closing, a quiet figure made his way past the counter. John looked up to see David, boots back on his feet and battered pack slung over his shoulder, head down, carefully avoiding John’s eyes as he left the store. John frowned.
I must do something about him.

As he looked away from the door he caught Jamie’s worried eyes on him. John refused to acknowledge the look and simply said, “Well, Jamie, we survived our first day together. Time to lock up and head home, I think.”

Jamie allowed the knot in his stomach to dissipate, let his breath out, and walked to the door to flip the
Open
sign over to
Closed
. He made a show of turning the lock on the door, looked at John, wiggled his eyebrows, and said, “Tomorrow we let you loose on the customers.”

John shook his head and groaned. “Oh fuck.”

Finding
the off-street parking was easy enough, but getting out of the car took more courage than John could muster. He’d turned off the engine and removed his seat belt, but rather than exiting he sat silently in the driver’s seat. John knew this was the first real day of his life as a storekeeper. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the headrest.
A fucking storekeeper,
he thought.
All that fucking work to end up behind a counter. Only a year, Mac, only a year.

The key slid easily into the lock and with a simple turn the door opened. John stepped inside the still-dark store, flicked on the lights, and entered the alarm code. He took a breath and walked over to the counter. It all seemed so familiar, but
not
at the same time. The business side of things would be easy, he knew that. But the rest….

John ran his fingers over the antiquated cash register and soon they were lightly dancing over the keys; not enough to move them, just enough to feel them against his fingertips. He stopped and looked up through the store. It was quiet. There was a flutter of anxiety in the pit of his stomach and the usual dull pain behind his eyes. Without any real purpose, John strolled through the solid bookshelves, briefly touching the occasional volume before moving on.

It wasn’t long before he found himself sitting in one of the leather chairs. He slouched down into worn leather and closed his eyes. The smell of dust and old books was strong. He smiled, feeling like a little boy sitting in the “big” chair at his granny’s. She always surrounded herself with books and let John sit in his granddad’s chair to read them. John felt his muscles relax. He felt safe.

“You look happier this morning.”

John leaped out of the chair as if he’d been caught doing something wrong and glared at Jamie who was leaning, hands in pockets, against one of the shelves. It took a moment for the blood to stop rushing in his ears but he managed to growl, “If you plan on keeping your job, don’t sneak up on your boss!”

John stalked past Jamie toward the counter, ignoring the barely concealed giggle of the young man bouncing along behind him.

The
morning passed easily and generally without incident. The early customers tended to be relatively introspective and seemed to know what they were looking for without his help. Jamie informed him that “Customers usually fall into categories according to the time of day or day of the week. The morning is for those on a mission, by eleven a.m. the university students surface, and afternoon is for the browsers and mums with kids.” As if on cue a young couple talking loudly breezed past them and headed for the secondhand book section.

Jamie gave John a triumphant look and stated, “Student types. It must be nearly eleven.”

John chuckled at the smug look and couldn’t resist needling Jamie by asking, “So what time is set aside for our resident transient?”

Jamie’s grin faltered and with a quiet “I’ll put the kettle on,” he left the counter and walked into the kitchen.

A laugh alerted John to the fact that the “student types” were emerging from the secondhand alcove and heading toward him. John braced himself with a mental
be polite
and asked, “Find anything interesting?”

The boy threw a paperback in front of John and grunted, “Does the bookmark come with the book?”

John frowned and picked up the book, opening the page where a slightly tattered red leather bookmark rested. “Um, I guess so….”

Suddenly Jamie appeared from the back room and snatched the book out of his hands. He glanced first at John and then the students, saying in a very hesitant voice, “I’m sorry. This one isn’t for sale.”

“It was on the shelf!” The boy argued.

Jamie shot another look at John before stammering, “I… I made a mistake. It was requested by someone who phoned earlier and I forgot to pull it off the shelf.”

The boy didn’t look convinced, but his girlfriend smiled and said, “Hey, that’s okay. We all make mistakes.”

Jamie smiled and silently thanked her for getting him off the hook with her boyfriend.

“Look, if I get another copy I’ll make sure I put it under the counter for you, yeah?” Jamie said, holding on tightly to the paperback.

The girl realized there was obviously more to this so thanked him quietly before dragging her boyfriend out the door. Once they were gone Jamie just stood looking down at the book, his fingers worrying the corner of the bookmark, trying to avoid John’s gaze. But he knew the question was inevitable.

“What was that all about?”

Jamie sighed. “The book
is
reserved, John. Sort of.”

“Shouldn’t it be behind the counter if it’s reserved?” John asked with narrowed eyes, well aware that Jamie was trying to get out of answering him.

“Um… yeah, my mistake. I’ll put it away.” Jamie avoided looking directly at John and reached down to put it under the counter, but John stopped him with a quiet “Now tell me what’s
really
going on here, Jamie.”

Jamie twitched a bit, realizing John wouldn’t be diverted. “Mum gave that bookmark to David to let us know which book he’s reading, you know, so we wouldn’t sell it until he was finished.”

David again!
John inwardly growled, but looked at Jamie and said, “Okay. I can live with that, and of course you’ll let me know if there’s anything else I should be warned about.”

Jamie’s relief was palpable as he watched John walk back through the store to return the bookmarked novel to the shelf next to the chair.
This isn’t going to be easy, but we’ll get there…. We have to.
He released a breath and called, “I’m off to buy some lunch. Want me to get you something?”

“Anything’s fine.” John smiled as he walked back to the counter. “So long as it’s none of your vegetarian muck!”

“Okay, sliced corpse on bread for you then?”

“Sounds perfect.” John grinned and pulled out his wallet. “Here; take some money.”

Jamie waved it away and chuckled as he dashed to the door. “That’s cool, mate. I always grab it out of the cash register.” Luckily Jamie was through the door before John let loose with a string of very colorful expletives.

John was still shuffling through the accounts when he heard the bell above the door. He was all set to tell Jamie to hurry with his delicious sliced corpse when he saw David come in. Both men avoided looking at each other; David kept his head down and John suddenly found an invoice fascinating. He didn’t see Jamie enter the store until a brown paper bag was thrown on the counter in front of him. “Food for the carnivore.”

Relieved with the distraction, John grabbed the bag and went into the kitchen. “You want a tea or coffee?”

Jamie continued walking to the back of the store and called over his shoulder, “Can I have two teas, please?”

John frowned as the water rushed into the kettle. “Two teas?” Then he realized with a groan: “David.”

With two mugs in hand John walked through the store wondering who the hell was the boss in this place. He could already hear the two men talking when he rounded the shelf and saw Jamie crack up laughing and run his hand over David’s hair. It was an innocent enough gesture, but John cringed at the sight.
How can Jamie touch him in that state?

David stopped talking as soon as he saw John and took the mug with a quiet “Thank you.” Jamie flashed John his best smile and said, “Ta, John. Here, sit down and have lunch with us. I’ll grab the floor.” Jamie started to stand, but John waved him back down and left them to share Jamie’s lunch.

John
was relieved that his first “real” day was over, although he had to admit it hadn’t been as bad as expected. The register tallied, taking into account the lunch money snaffled by Jamie, and the day’s takings seemed quite healthy.

Jamie was in the kitchen rinsing out their well-used mugs, leaving John to do the final walk-through of the store before locking up. John methodically straightened up any stray books and checked for discarded sweetie wrappers near the children’s books. The last section he reached was the secondhand books and John realized he’d already started to think of this as
David’s spot
. “All bloody Jamie’s fault,” John grumbled as he moved to pick up a piece of paper left on one of the chairs. “I would have flung him out day
one
without Jamie whining in my ear.”

John looked down at the paper. It had obviously been torn out of one of the cheap water-damaged sketch books they kept near the counter, like the one he’d seen stuffed in the side of David’s backpack. But it was the subject of the sketch that made him frown. He was looking at himself. It was a picture of John at the counter doing the accounts; his chin was resting on his hand and his eyes were unfocused, staring into space.

John was taken aback by the image.
Is that what I look like to him?
It certainly wasn’t the face he saw in the mirror every morning. He was still scowling at the sketch when Jamie said, “That’s beautiful.”

John was startled by the sudden voice and growled, “Fucking hell, Jamie. I wish you would
stop
sneaking up on me!”

“What would be the fun in that?” Jamie grinned, his dark eyes dancing with mischief. “I like catching the boss perving at pictures of himself.”

“Come on, you daft git. I’ll drive you home.” John chuckled and shoved Jamie past the counter toward the door, but not before slipping the picture carefully into his briefcase.

Jamie had fiddled with just about every accessory in the car, both standard and optional, before John had backed out of the car park. Finally he settled on shuffling through John’s CDs. “Man, you have crap taste in music.”

John just ignored him and indicated to turn into the main street. By the time they reached the third intersection Jamie’s attention had definitely shifted to outside the car. John was just about to give in and ask him what he was looking for when Jamie whipped around in his seat. “Hey, pull over!” John instantly did as he was told and turned to Jamie. “What? What’s wrong?” But Jamie was already halfway out the window and shouting, “Fuck off, you wankers!” The words were no sooner spoken when John saw a couple of teenagers bolt down the street.

He then saw David walking toward the car and Jamie eased back in the window. “Hey, Dave. You okay?”

“Yeah. They were just drunk kids, that’s all,” David said quietly as he bent down to the window. His expression rapidly became guarded when he saw the driver of the car. John felt a pang of guilt at the look without being able to pin down why he should feel that way.

David’s eyes returned to Jamie as he asked, “It’s cold tonight; do you have somewhere to go?”

“Heading to the shelter. It’s early; there should still be beds.”

Jamie looked at him, hoping that was true, and whispered, “Stay safe, man.” David gave him a small smile, shrugged, and walked toward the door of the shelter.

Jamie slumped into the car seat. “I fucking worry about him….”

John didn’t know how to respond so remained silent, only asking for the occasional direction. When he pulled on the handbrake outside the small apartment building, Jamie hesitated before opening the door. He turned and said with an almost sheepish expression, “Hey, thanks for driving me man. Um… you wanna come up for a coffee?”

John considered what he assumed was an offer and was tempted, but wasn’t really sure if he’d misinterpreted the invitation. Rather than making a fool of himself or embarrass Jamie, he said with a gentle smile, “Rain check, okay?”

Jamie returned the smile and added a wink as he got out of the car. John gave him a good-natured shake of the head and wave as he pulled away from the curb.
Well, McCann, a gorgeous young man invited you up for coffee and you knocked him back. That may just have been the dumbest thing you have done for a while
. By the time he reached the intersection near the shelter, John had decided to take Jamie up on the rain check. Perhaps dinner the next night?

While waiting for the traffic lights to change from red to green he couldn’t help looking at the entrance of the shelter. The doors were now closed and it was only by chance that a movement caught his eye and he saw a couple of people huddled in a nearby doorway. His breath caught in his throat when he realized one of the men settling down on the folded cardboard was David.

John didn’t notice the lights had changed until he was startled by the impatient drivers honking from behind. He took his foot off the brake and drove away.

By the time he’d reached his apartment John had a sick, heavy feeling deep in his chest. He nodded at the doorman and traveled up the elevator to his floor.

Rather than relaxing when he entered the familiarity of his apartment, John felt agitated and angry. He threw his keys on the table, poured himself a scotch, and flopped down on the couch. The thought of food turned his stomach so he just sat in the quiet room smoking a cigarette. The sense of satisfaction he’d felt earlier had completely evaporated and he rubbed his hand over his eyes, feeling vaguely sick.
Shit! This was all supposed to help.
John groaned at the familiar pressure behind his eyes.
I’m just tired; bed and sleep’s what I need.