Dana’s slow smile added to her surprised expression. “I was just thinking about that book. I haven’t read it in years, but I loved it.”
“Really?” Stella said, exaggerating her surprise while her own confidence soared. “I could have it ready for you at the front.”
“I’d like that,” Dana agreed. “It does seem like a good day to read it again.”
Arnie stepped out from between a row of shelves, seemingly caught off guard by Dana’s presence. She smiled, and Arnie stood stock-still as though he’d completely forgotten which way he had been heading. Stella watched, puzzled by his behavior.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Cohen,” Dana said. “I was hoping to find you here today.”
Arnie’s lips parted. “You were?” He rubbed one hand down the back of his head.
Dana pulled a folded sheet of paper from her front pocket. “I had a specific question about Wildflower Hill and its connection to the Revolutionary War, and I hoped to find a book on the subject. Next month my students are preparing reports on both the American Revolution and the happenings in Blue Sky Valley during the same time. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of the hauntings and other nonsense. But I’m looking for authentic information, thefacts. Clyde Johnson said you were something of an expert—”
“Arnie,” he interrupted.
Dana looked up from her paper, blinking her light eyes in the silence. “Pardon me?”
“Call me Arnie.”
Stella leaned against the archway and grinned.Is Arnie nervous?As if in answer to her question, silvery, glittery words slipped out from beneath Arnie’s shoes.Magical. Green eyes. Yes yes yes.
“Arnie,” Dana said. She handed him the piece of paper. “I’ve made some preliminary notes about all the information I could find on the internet, but the facts are seriously lacking, and ghost stories meant to scare children can’t be considered reliable sources, regardless of what the town swears to be the truth. Do you think you can guide me to a place to start?”
Arnie stared at the sheet of paper as though she’d handed him a love note. Then he looked up and caught Stella’s gaze. His eyes pleaded with her, but she didn’t understand his expression. He held out the paper for Stella, so she walked toward him.
“Stella, Ms. Cannon needs—”
“Dana,” she said. Pale sunlight stretched down from the windows and pooled around her feet.
Arnie’s gaze strayed to Dana’s face and lingered there. “Dana,” he said in a voice that had gone all soft and comfortable around the edges like a naptime blanket.
Stella cleared her throat. “How can I help?”
Arnie shoved the yellow legal pad paper into Stella’s hands, and she struggled not to crumple the page. “I have a book I was supposed to order for Yvette Camden this morning, and it’s somewhat of an emergency book. You can handle this.” Then he hurried off, his dress shoes clacking against the tiles in rapid beats. Stella and Dana stared at his back as he scrambled up the main staircase.
Stella refocused on Dana. “I think I can lead you to the proper section. Arnie is more of the expert on Wildflower Hill, but if you have any questions later, I’m sure he’d be willing to help out... once he orders that emergency book, of course.”
“Of course,” Dana repeated. Her gaze lingered on where Arnie had disappeared up the staircase. “Let’s grab Fannie Flagg, too, while we’re at it.”
After Stella helped Dana locate two books that contained the most information about Wildflower Hill along with Fannie Flagg’s classic, she went looking for Arnie. She found him standing in the poetry section, tapping his fingers in a repeating rhythm against the spines. Stella recognized the pattern as Morse code.SOS.
“Sending a distress signal? Do you want to be the pot or the kettle?” she asked.
Arnie stilled his fingers and then pulled a book from the shelf before returning it almost as quickly. He turned toward her. His gray hair was ruffled around the edges, and his gaze seemed to reach out into some far, unseen distance. When he spoke, his speech was slow and thoughtful. “Sometimes you meet people,and you know you can handle yourself with them. You know you’ll never lose control or give too much of yourself away. There is an amount of comfort in that feeling. Your heart is safe in that not-all-of-me space.
“Other times you meet someone and everything stops and brings that person into complete focus. Colors and sounds are muted as though that person is in a spotlight. And all you want to do is stayright there.” Arnie sighed. “I can’t think when Dana is around. At all. Complete doofus. I’m terrified I’m going to babble or blubber or both. It’s like I revert to an awkward teenager. It’s better if I make myself scarce when she’s around.”
Although Stella had never been cautious enough with her heart and had lost control of her emotions too many times, she had never felt what Arnie described—the dreamy feeling when time slowed as it intensified the connection to someone else. Arnie was one of the most capable, independent people Stella had ever known. He possessed equal amounts of composure and finesse. She couldn’t imagine anyone making him feel tongue-tied or clumsy.
“Arnie, have you ever thought about asking Dana out? Starting small, like taking her out for coffee or tea?”
His face paled, and then he laughed—a deep belly laugh that rippled out and pressed against the library windows. “Can you imagine? I’d be all thumbs and left feet with her.”
“I’m no expert on Arnold Cohen, but I’veneverseen you go all dewy-eyed for a woman before. I’m not sure missing out on this is worth your fear about being a doofus.”
Arnie walked toward Stella and slipped his arm around her shoulders, guiding her toward the staircase. “Let’s circle back. Do you want to be the pot or the kettle?”
At the end of her shift, Stella told Arnie goodbye and headed toward her house. The late-afternoon sun filled the inside of her car with stifling summer heat. She rolled down the windows but found little relief from the outside air as it circulated inside the car, turning the interior into a convection oven.
