His handshake is brief and tentative. She clocks his discomfort. Caleb Rye is a man at home among books, thrust into a room full of people to celebrate an intensely personal, almost intimate, event. He’s an introvert being asked to perform extroversion.
“Congratulations.” Sasha hands the gift bag to Emmaline, who peeks inside.
“How thoughtful. I loved these books as a child! Thank you.” Her accent is posh British, the kind that speaks of boarding schools and country estates.
She passes the bag to Caleb. “Look, darling, they’re from Words & Wit.” She turns to Sasha, “That’s the bookstore where Caleb did a reading of his debut novel.”
Emmaline’s voice is full of spousal pride, but Caleb is clearly uncomfortable with the topic. He flushes bright red.
Sasha decides to give him a minute. “When are you due?” she asks his wife.
“In ten days. Though at this point I’m so enormous I’m convinced the doctor miscalculated by at least a month.” She says it with good humor, one hand resting on her belly.
“I remember that feeling. We have twins. The last month felt like it lasted a year.”
“Twins!” Emmaline’s eyes widen. “How old?”
“Eleven, turning twelve this summer. They’re fifth graders. They’ll be finishing out the year at your primary school.”
“Oh, they’ll love it,” Emmaline says warmly. “The community is wonderful. Very supportive. And Foggy Bottom’s academics are excellent without being cutthroat.”
Caleb has extracted the books from the bag. He’s studying the cover of Where the Wild Things Are with a genuine smile. “ I’d forgotten how good Sendak’s illustrations are.”
“I must have read it to my twins three hundred times. One of the joys of having little ones is rediscovering your favorite childhood books and finding brand-new favorites.” She pauses, then adds, “Speaking of reading, I have to tell you, I’m halfway through The Payback. It’s excellent. I honestly didn’t want to put it down to come here!”
Caleb looks pleased and unhappy in equal measure. “Oh. Thank you. That’s—I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
“How long did it take you to write?”
“Not long.” He adjusts his glasses. “The story came together pretty quickly once I had the framework.” His tone is almost embarrassed. Like he’s underselling his accomplishment or distancing himself from it.
Before she can probe further, the woman with the bob reappears holding a plate heaped high with cheese and crackers. “Emmaline, darling, you need to eat. Growing a human is hungry work.”
“Linda, you’re going to have me the size of a house,” Emmaline protests, but she plucks a cracker and a cube of cheese from the plate.
Linda turns to Sasha with a smile. “I’m Linda Morrison, the librarian at Foggy Bottom.”
“Linda started as part-time library volunteer when he grandson was a student,” Emmaline chimes in. “He graduated a few years ago, but we couldn’t live without her. Now she’s in charge of the whole program. Still a volunteer, though.”
“Sasha McCandless-Connelly.”
“Ah, yes! Your husband will be filling in for our dear Emmaline. And you have children starting next week as well?”
“Twins. Fifth grade.”
“Wonderful. They’ll love the library. We just got in a beautiful collection of graphic novels. Very popular with the middle schoolers.” Linda’s smile is warm. “And what will you be doing during your time here?”
“I’m taking a sabbatical from my law firm.”
“If you find yourself with time on your hands, we could always use another volunteer at the library. The spring semester is our busiest time between research papers and final exams. The students practically live there.”
Sasha hesitates just long enough to seem like she’s considering, not jumping at the opportunity. “I’d love that, actually. I used to volunteer at my kids’ school library in Pittsburgh. I’ve missed it.”
“Perfect.” Linda beams. “Stop by Monday or Tuesday and I’ll show you around. We can figure out a schedule that works for you.”
“That will be wonderful.”
She means it. Access to the school, a reason to be on campus, a role that makes her part of the community rather than an outsider. This is helpful to their mission.
