Stella huffed but didn’t respond, because they both knew the truth.
“If what’s coming is anything like what just happened,” Ariel said, “then I don’t think you have much choice but to go with it.”
“What if I don’t want to go with it?” Stella slammed the journal shut, and the pen rolled across the counter.
“What if it’s somewhere better than where you are right now? Are you happy? Truly happy?”
Stella sighed. “Is anyone?”
Ariel nodded. “Yes. I mean, no one is happy 24-7, but yes, I do believe there are people who are genuinely happy, but those people keep evolving and trying new things and keep living. And maybe you... Well, maybe you haven’t—”
Stella held up her hand to stop Ariel, who pressed her lips together and looked apologetic. “I know what you’re about to say. You’re going to tell me that maybe I’ve stopped living. And you know what? You’re right. I’m definitely stuck.” She motioned to the space around her. “This entire place is a testament to how ‘stuck’ I am. I know I have to do something. I could uproot my life. Change my career. Follow the trail of these words that are spelling out who knows what.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “But I’m kinda terrified.”
Ariel nodded. “You don’t have to do all of that at once, but I know you’re curious about those words.” She pointed at the closed journal. “Don’t you want to know what they’re trying to tell you?”
“Yes. Do I want them to feel like they’re burning holes in my body? No, but maybe that’s the only way I would pay attention to them.”
Ariel touched Stella’s arm. “Come on, let’s finish dinner and celebrate that you can tug out words to help people find books. That’s a start to something bigger, and it’s worth celebrating, right?”
Stella chuckled. “Always looking for the silver lining.” She followed Ariel into the living room, casting one more glance over her shoulder at the journal and its mystifying words.
Chapter 6
Tuesday at half past noon, Arnie returned from the local sandwich shop with brown paper sacks. Blobs of grease smeared the bottom of one bag, looking as though someone with hands coated in oil had carried it for him. He plopped the splotched bag on the circulation desk, and Stella closed her copy ofBeyond the Southern Horizon.
“Lunch is served,” Arnie said, walking around the desk. “I have Vicki’s too. Where is she?”
A smile of surprise curved Stella’s lips. “You bought me lunch? You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.” She pointed to the second floor. “She’s reshelving titles in adult fiction.”
Arnie’s bushy eyebrows rose. He removed a folded handkerchief from his back pocket and swiped it across his forehead. “Did you bring something for lunch today?”
It was no secret that Stella’s food choices at home consisted of mostly prepackaged goods, and if anything needed to be cooked, it was microwave friendly. Ariel joked that Stella could survive on cheese crackers, kids’ cereals, and Hot Pockets without her bodyrebelling. Maybe one of these days she’d mature into cooking meals that required the stove or an oven, but then, maybe she wouldn’t. “Well, no. But I have a box of Lucky Charms in the kitchenette.”
Arnie made a dismissive noise in his throat. “Your diet is atrocious.”
Stella shrugged. “Or adventurous. Who knows what chemicals are in my food. Every day is a risk.”
Arnie opened his paper sack. “I’m not sure that’s anything to brag about.”
Stella pointed toward the greasy bag. “What’s with the overabundance of grease? Did you ask them to empty out the fryer’s goodness into my bag? I sure hope so,” she teased.
Arnie’s smile emerged, causing the glasses on the bridge of his nose to rise on his cheekbones. “Based on your current eating habits, I bought the worst thing on the menu for you. Philly cheesesteak with extra goo.”
The scents of melted cheese, cooked steak, and toasted bread wafted out of the bag as soon as she opened it. “Arnie, you’re my hero.”
“Don’t you know it,” he said. “Take a break. I’ll cover the desk while you eat. Take Vicki’s to the break room, too, please. I’ll let her know lunch is here.”
The front door opened and a man walked in, bringing rays of light with him like a cape of sunshine attached to his shoulders. He scanned the high ceilings in the lobby as though he’d never been inside the building before. When his gaze lowered, his eyes locked on Stella’s. He strode toward her with purpose, keeping his focus on her. She took in his features as quickly as possible: average height and a toned, athletic body. He moved effortlessly, like he was used to being in constant motion, like he enjoyed exercising. His sun-bleached blond hair and friendly face with Cupid’s bowlips made him look like a model for polo shirts or Nike gear. As he neared, his mouth lifted into a smile, and small lines crinkled out from the corners of his eyes. Neon-yellow words, thin and stretched, slipped out of his shorts pocket.Possibility. Welcome. Summer wind.
Stella slid her lunch bag across the counter, leaving a thin grease track. Arnie pulled a tissue from its box and wiped it across the desk.
“Good afternoon,” Stella said after clearing her throat, aware that Arnie was lingering just over her shoulder. “Can we help you find anything?”
The man’s boyish grin combined with his laugh lines was utterly charming. “I’m new in town. I just accepted a job at the middle school for the coming fall, and I’m looking for information on soccer plays for kids and how to coach them. I’ve recklessly signed up to help lead a bunch of boys for a summer league, and I’ve never been a coach.” He laughed, sounding unsure but excited. “I knowhowto play, but I’m not sure how toteachwhat I know to kids. Make sense?”
Stella pursed her lips in thought. “Why would you sign up for something you don’t know how to do?” The question slipped out before she could stop it. She’d never agree to do something she wasn’t sure she had the skills for.
He leaned forward over the desk. “Sometimes you have to take a chance, right? It’s a new adventure.”
