Page 27 of Falling

I talked to people who were into floristry and books that took place on boats and wrote down dozens of requests for things they hadn’t been able to find from the minute I sat down to the minute Seth came in and told everyone the library had been closed for half an hour.

He grinned at me as people started to file out, bounding up to the desk and handing me his ID. “Do you need this to print me a card?”

“Just a name and address,” I said. “How do you not have a library card? You hired me.”

Seth shrugged. “The town hired you, I was just the middle man,” he said as I started putting his details in. “Busy day, huh?”

I looked at him, letting the full weight of my exhaustion seep into it. He grinned in response.

“Book knows how to bring a community together.” He shrugged.

“With booze?” I asked, eyebrow raised.

Seth hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t think it hurt, but I don’t think many people will actually take advantage. It’s just… Book’s the kind of man people listen to. If he says get a library card, they get a library card.”

I could believe that. I’d trusted him pretty much instantly.

“You should drop by the bar,” Seth added. “To thank him.”

He was right. Obviously. I owed Booker a thank you, a thousand thank yous. I was exhausted, but this was the first thing that’d gone right for me. I’d made a real dent in the new signup quota.

Maybe I could save this library after all. Maybe I wasn’t completely useless.

If you accept the help, a tiny voice in the back of my mind said. It sounded a lot like Booker.

“I should,” I agreed. “It’s funny, when I agreed to this job I was scared I’d never see a gay bar again. Weird to have the library back onto one.”

“Yeah, well, zoning here is more an art than a science,” Seth said. “And when I say it’s an art I mean it’s like a finger painting done by a blind anteater.”

“Specifically an anteater?” I asked.

“Specifically an anteater,” Seth agreed. “Trust me, it’s exactly the vibe. I hope you never have to care about it.”

“Me too, in that case,” I said, handing him the card the printer had spit out. I was glad the library didn’t open Sundays, so it could have a rest. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“You just did,” Seth said, holding the card up. “You’re gonna be the most popular person in the bar tonight.”

10

BOOKER

Saturday nights were always busy, but I couldn’t remember being this busy since the last day of June, when everyone had been trying to make the most of the last few hours of Pride Month.

That had been a weekday, so it was nothing compared to this.

When I’d told Miles it’d do me as much good as it’d do the library, I apparently hadn’t just been saying that. At this rate, I’d be able to fund Ryder and Seth’s queer theatre group camp next year single-handed instead of having to run a fundraiser. Not that the people of Otter Bay didn’t love a good fundraiser.

“Half of Otter Bay is putting the moves on your boyfriend,” Andre said in my ear while I was a third of the way through a six-drink order.

I glanced over to where Miles was installed on one of the couches, flanked by, I assumed, grateful new library patrons.

I tried to ignore the hand on his knee. People were allowed to flirt with him. He was allowed to enjoy it, and he obviously was.

“How many times⁠—”

“Oh yeah, you’re just doing all this for the good of the community and not because the nerdy little librarian is cute. But for the record, he keeps looking over at you while you’re busy.”

Yeah, I thought, the way kids look to their dad when they’re swimming.