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The local library had become the most unexpected lifeline to Nora Carpenter after the death of her husband.
She only got out of bed because Tim needed her, though the desire to hide under the thick covers and hope it all went away was never far from her mind. Life was something she went through on autopilot, and she sometimes wondered if she’d be able to feel anything but hollow ever again. She kept their house running, dropped Tim off and picked him up from school, and floated through days at work when she at last had to go back, it often feeling like someone else was there instead of her. She stopped seeing friends, most now having stopped trying to reach out, and tentative invites out to drinks with colleagues had dried up too. Her excuse was always that she had to be there for Tim, but really, the thought of leaving the house for a reason that wasn’t necessary felt like too much to bear.
It had been around the six month anniversary of her husband’s passing when Tim had asked if they could stop by the library after school. Where the idea had come from, she still didn’t know, him having been at the age where they sat on a beanbag reading picture books together the last time they’d walked through the door. The only reason she’d agreed was because it was for him, and she was relieved to see her son indicate an interest in something other than hiding away playing video games. Before long, they were coming back each week.
By his eleventh birthday, he’d grown out of middle-grade fiction and was buried in the young adult section, and began soaring through Stephen King tomes at thirteen. The teachers at his school had been skeptical at first. Tim was sheltered and sometimes a little immature, them wondering if he was just trying to show off, but the more they asked about the books he carried around, it became clear he absorbed everything he read. She tried to ignore her nerves about what he was reading, her son always drawn to the dark and macabre, wishing he’d pick up something a little more lighthearted sometimes, but recommending books was out of her wheelhouse. She consoled herself with the thought that if his choice of literature was her biggest worry about her son, perhaps she was doing alright after all.
She would insist she enjoyed the visits to the library so much because they made Tim happy, and how much he read filled her with pride. If she were more honest with herself, it was only… half the reason. Things had begun to get a bit complicated, and it was all because of the librarian behind the desk with the long black curls and striking brown eyes.
It had taken time for her warm smile and signature navy cardigan to lodge itself in her head, but now, she doubted she’d ever forget. She remembered her and Tim each visit and was always kind to him, talking to him like he was a person rather than in the patronising tone a lot of other adults did. Once, she’d told Nora she must be proud to have a son that was such an avid reader, and it had made eyes fill up with tears. It was so refreshing to be told she was doing something right. She hadn’t been able to say it aloud, though. Instead, with a nod, she scurried off before the tears could fall, scared the librarian would find her reaction weird.
Scared she’d think she had hurt her feelings, she attempted to redeem herself later.
She’d managed to get Tim interested in joining a few clubs at the library. He was coming out of his shell more, making some friends, and to Nora’s relief, they were good kids too. All she wanted was to tell her how grateful she was, but her words always seemed to stick in her throat. She watched her hand Tim that month’s pick for the young adult book club, him having missed the last meeting due to a trip to the dentist, and her eyes remained on her even after her son had walked off to browse. Her eyes were just so… lovely, and she’d never taken notice of how nice her arms looked in that sweater before. She wasn’t sure what was happening. She’d never had any thoughts about someone’s arms before.
“Can I help you?”
It was only then that she clued in she was staring, and her face burned. When Nora snapped out of it, she noticed a warm smile on her face, and it helped her beat herself up a little less. She gripped the strap of her bag and pushed herself forward, willing herself to say something, anything.
“Oh, y-yes,” she stammered, “I… wanted to get a new library card, actually.”
She had no idea where the words had come from.
“Of course,” she replied. “Do you still have your old one? We might have you on the system still.”
Nora fished her wallet from her bag, thumbing through expired restaurant coupons, half-stamped loyalty cards and spare change. In the last pocket she checked, tucked right at the back, she retrieved a weathered, scratched library card she hadn’t seen in years, and found her hand trembled a little when she passed it over.
“Sorry,” she blurted out. “After my husband passed away, I stopped reading, and it expired and I-”
“Oh, honey, it’s okay. We never judge here,” she replied, the words warm, strong and lacking the pity that Nora had grown to hate. “That’s more than understandable. I know what it’s like… I lost mine a long time ago.”
Nora’s eyes drifted down to the chain around her neck, noticing for the first time that a wedding ring was attached, her attention then moving to the neat name tag clipped to her burgundy v-neck sweater. Mona. A pretty name, one she didn’t hear often. Nora thought it suited her.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Nora said. She realised then that for a rare time she’d been able to talk about her husband’s passing without bursting into tears. “And… thank you. This is… a step in the right direction, I suppose.”
Mona nodded. “I think getting back into reading is a great idea. I know it helped me a lot. It’s nice to spend a bit of time in someone else’s world for awhile.”
Getting back into reading. She felt foolish that she hadn’t really thought about it until Mona said it… but she was renewing her library card, wasn’t she? There was no better opportunity to give it a shot. It would be nice to have a hobby again. She knew that work, household chores, and worrying about Tim didn’t exactly count.
She watched Mona’s fingers glide across the keyboard, eyes drawn to her rings shining under the warm, cosy lights of the library. She tried her best to force out more words, scared she’d start staring again, and wanted to do anything but acknowledge how her heart was beating that little bit faster now.
“I… have to admit that I don’t know where to start, really,” she admitted, fiddling with the strap of her bag. “It’s been so long.”
Mona looked up from the computer, offering her another pleasant smile that she swore made her stomach flutter. “Well… I suppose you’re in the right place, right?”
She didn’t know why such a simple comment made all her words evaporate. She could feel her mouth going dry, her fingers continuing to fiddle with the strap of her bag as she willed herself to get a grip. Mona didn’t seem pick up on it, attention returning to the screen, and before she could conjure up a competent response, she swung the monitor around to face her.
“Is the information we have still correct?”
Nora’s eyes skimmed the details provided by a version of herself that felt long gone, and yet, everything matched. She was still Nora Carpenter, only older now, and carrying an emptiness she was scared would never go away. She and Tim lived in the same apartment, with a forever vacant spot on the coat rack, a cold side of the bed, and a chair at the dinner table for someone who would never join them again. Same email, same number… different Nora. She was so tired of the smallest things being able to make her chest crack open again.
She managed to get a nod out, and mustered a genuine smile when Mona held out a shiny new library card. “All yours. You just have to sign the back.”
Mona handing her the pen to sign her name was such a simple thing. It never should have been anything. Their hands brushed as she took it, and everything seemed to stop for a second. The fleeting touch made her heart pound, her signing her name far shakier than she ever had before. She took care to ensure they didn’t touch again when she handed the pen back, and tried to chalk up the reaction to how lonely she was. It was the only thing that made sense.
She never forgot that interaction, no matter how many times she tried to drill it through herself that it meant nothing. She wondered at times if it had stuck with Mona too. Maybe it was all in her head, but she seemed to look out for her more after that day. She always had a kind word to say, whether it a compliment about her hairstyle or her cardigan, a recipe to share after she’d expressed interest, or affirming how lovely it was to see her again. She gave her book recommendations that were just about perfect, and before long, it was like her love of reading had never laid dormant at all. It had to be Mona just being kind, her only doing her job… and yet, those stubborn, silly feelings lingered, getting worse with each visit.
Their trip to the library for that week was coming to an end. She watched Tim bring his stack of books up to the desk, unable to help her smile as Mona made conversation with him about his picks that week and the pile he’d returned. She was so good with him, and it only made Nora admire her more. Tim shut down with most adults - even her sometimes - and yet, she thought Tim might even call Mona cool on a good day.
“And how have you been, Nora?”
Nora often took a moment to register attention, as if it was preposterous that anyone at all would want to talk to her. She tucked a piece of blonde hair that had fallen out of her usual braid behind her ear, face flooding with warmth as she attempted to get a response to leave her lips.
“Good,” she replied, willing herself to elaborate. “I… I’m still working on that book, by the way. I’m quite enjoying it. I just haven’t had much time to read lately.”
“No rush,” Mona said, scanning Tim’s last book and tearing the receipt from the printer. “Take your time. I’m quite excited to hear your thoughts.”
It filled her with an excitement she thought may border on pathetic. No one ever wanted to hear her thoughts, but yet, Mona was eager for them. In no time, her brain was trying to shut it down. Because this is her job.
Making all the thoughts she deemed impractical go away was easier said than done, though. She observed that Mona seemed nervous, her brown eyes darting down to the desk, her fingers fiddling with the wedding ring on the chain around her neck, nails painted dark red that day. The only thought that felt rational at all was the vibe she got that Mona still had something left to say. She expected her attention to return to Tim, to tell him to enjoy that week’s reading and goodbye until the next visit, but her eyes went back to Nora.
Her words were tentative. “Are you… coming to book club this month?”
Nora hated how guilt began to pool in her stomach. Mona had been trying to get her to join the book club at the library for months by that point. She was always gentle about asking, it never veering into pushy territory, but Nora had never been able to get herself to go. The fact Mona kept asking made her feel appreciated rather than annoyed, but yet again, she brushed away the idea that it meant anything deep. Perhaps Mona did care a bit, but it had to do with her job for the most part. She probably needed more numbers to make her book club worth keeping or something.
“I… won’t be able to make it this month, sorry,” Nora mumbled. “I have an appointment that night.”
Tim whipped his head around to look at her, features etched into a puzzled frown. She shot him a pained, pleading look, and rushed to continue before he could blurt out any questions.
“I do appreciate it, though,” she said, offering her a genuine smile, “I… I’ll see you next time. Thank you as always for being so lovely, Mona. We should probably get going. I know for a fact that Tim has a science project to finish.”
Tim grumbled beside her, and for a short, blissful moment, her and Mona’s laughter was mixed together, the woman wearing the smile of someone who had been there too once. She knew that she also had a son - it had come up in conversation a few times - but she still had no idea how old he was. She felt strange about asking, worried it was too personal.
It was only one of many questions on the tip of her tongue as she and Tim left for the week, no doubt going to linger in her mind long after they left her building. While she reminded herself it was time to go back to reality, she had a hunch that the strange feelings that flooded her whenever she looked at Mona weren’t going to disappear.
***
Quiet drives home had become the norm for Nora. She used the radio on low to make it a little more bearable, still struggling with the urge to ask Tim every question that was on her mind. Were the kids still being nice to him at school? Was the friend that he hadn’t mentioned in awhile still around, or had they fallen out? Were the advanced classes he’d been put in pushing him too hard? The worries were endless. She knew that he wanted space, and her hovering annoyed him to no end. From past experience, he would open up once she left him be for a bit… but it was so painful waiting until he was ready to talk.
The sound of snickering beside her made her frown. She spared a quick glance over at Tim when they stopped at a red light, expecting to see his nose buried in one of his new library books, but instead, his attention was on her.
“You like her,” Tim teased.
Nora’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, and she felt her face starting to heat up. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Tim snorted. “You like her. You have a crush on Mona the librarian. I’ve been thinking it for weeks. You never look like that around anyone!”
Focused on the road, the reply slipped out of Nora’s mouth without thinking. “And you’d be okay with that?”
“I mean, she’s nice,” Tim said with a shrug, “and maybe if you were dating one of the librarians, they’d move me to the top of the reservations list.”
“I’m sure she’s far more professional than that, Tim,” Nora replied. At last, she caught herself, and tried her best to force out a dismissive laugh. “Besides… it was all just hypothetical, of course. I just wanted to check how you were coping, that’s all.”
Tim grimaced, squirming in his seat. Usually when she messed up a conversation with her son, she was filled with a miserable sense of defeat, wondering if she’d ever master the delicate task of parenting through grief. In that moment, she was on the cusp of letting out a sigh of relief, and wondered what it said about her. She preferred to shove all her feelings down in favour of ensuring Tim was okay, how unsustainable it was be damned. If he’d noticed her little… problem regarding Mona, she thought she needed to work a little harder on bottling things up.
Her shoulders relaxed as she turned onto the street their apartment building was on, sure the coast was now clear. Things would probably be a little awkward for the rest of the night, but they’d get over it, and both any mention of coping and the ridiculous idea she had a crush on Mona would be forgotten. She’d work hard to make sure she exhibited no strangeness on their next visit to the library, and everything would be back where it had to be.
However, Tim was not done yet.
“You know… it’s Valentine’s Day soon…”
While she was not proud of the choice, she opted to be purposefully obtuse. There were plenty of times where she had no idea what Tim was talking about and got a huff, eye roll or stomp down the hall, so maybe he’d fall for it. “So soon? It feels like the year’s already flying by.”
“Mom,” Tim stressed, rolling his eyes, “it’s the perfect time to tell her you like her.”
“I do not have a crush on the librarian, Timothy!” Nora exclaimed. She ran her hands over the sleeves of her cardigan and sighed. “She… she’s just nice to us because she knows us now. And because she’s a kind person, and passionate about her job and…”
Tim’s laughter made her trail off. “See? You do like her!”
She took a deep breath, running a hand over her forehead. “Even if I… did have feelings for Mona… it would be… unprofessional to tell her, Tim. You don’t do that sort of thing. It’s… inappropriate. I’d probably make her uncomfortable.”
“You don’t have to tell her out loud, mom,” Tim insisted. “What if you sent her some flowers? If she likes it, then you can tell her later. If she doesn’t, then she’ll just think she got some flowers from some weird freak and she’ll never know it was you. It’s worth a try. Mona’s nice. I’d be okay with her going out with you.”
It was Nora’s turn to laugh. “I’m glad to hear I’d have your approval… but absolutely not. We’re adults, Tim. You don’t do the whole ‘secret admirer’ thing when you’re an adult. Our time for all that stuff is gone.”
“Aren’t you always telling me that you aren’t that old?” Tim countered.
Nora pushed open the door of the car. “I think it’s time for you to go work on that science assignment.”
That settled it. Tim scurried off to his room with his library books, still snickering all the way, and she went to start putting together their dinner for that night. He’d probably make fun of her for a few days until something else caught his attention, teenagers’ brains always reaching for the next big thing, and life would go back to normal. All she had to do was wait.
And yet… something in her brain had lit up when her son had made that silly suggestion. She knew that she and Mona were far too old for something as juvenile as sweet notes accompanying anonymous flowers… but it had also been so long since life had held anything close to whimsy for her.
She tried her best to ignore it, keeping the conversation focused on Tim’s science project when they ate dinner together. They watched TV in relative silence, quiz shows always serious business, and she said goodnight to him after. It was time to go to bed,and get ready for the next day… but her brain refused to turn off. For once, it wasn’t to do with the pain of grief, or worries about Tim. Instead, despite the faint nerves that swirled around the thought, it was mostly light.
Would it be… that bad to send Mona one bouquet of flowers with a note?
She decided she would let the thought pass until the next day, a tactic she often used when she considered buying herself something that wasn’t a necessity. Without fail, she woke up the next day with a clear head, and a realisation that she didn’t need it.
The next morning, after Tim had been dropped off at school, she was scrolling through flowers online.
***
Mona Peters loved her job.
If someone had told her fifteen year old self that she was going to be a librarian one day, she wouldn’t have been able to wrap her head around it. Now, she couldn’t imagine doing anything else. She was proud of herself for going back to college later in life, and for being able to graduate despite the difficulties balancing her coursework with dealing with all the trouble her son got into as a teenager. She came to work each day surrounded by books, kind colleagues, and was able to help people. People seemed to respect her. Her book club was doing so well there’d been a request for her to possibly run a morning one as well as her evening one. It was more than the teenager who never thought she’d matter to anyone could have ever asked for.
When she was at work, she was also able to stop worrying for awhile. While she was placing books back on shelves, doing paperwork, setting up for book club and creating new displays, she didn’t have to think anything else but the familiar, mostly pleasant motions of a day doing what she loved. Sometimes, she enjoyed being at the library more than being at home, a thought that always made things sour a little. It felt like a clear tell of how small and lonely her life was.
“Mona?”
The sound of one of her colleagues’ voices behind her made her jump, the crime paperback in her hand clattering back onto the trolley beside her. Warmth filled her face, and her curls swished as she turned her head around, greeting her with a somewhat sheepish smile.
“Sorry,” she said, brushing her hair out of her face, “is everything alright?”
Her colleague nodded, and Mona noted a hint of something… playful in her smile. “Oh, of course. Just… these came for you.”
Mona’s eyes darted down to the bouquet in her hands, a small, subtle cluster of pink tulips wrapped in elegant cream paper. She took them carefully, enjoying the sweet, fresh scent as she held them close. “Do you know who they’re from?”
“There’s a card,” she said. “Don’t worry - I didn’t read it. It’s certainly a way to make a Monday better.”
Mona nodded, allowing a soft laugh to slip out as she moved to inhale the scent of the tulips again. She waited until she was left alone again to reach for the small card attached to the bouquet, immediately in awe of how neat and pretty the cursive was. The message was simple but sweet, written out in plain blue pen.
I hope these brighten your day the way you brighten mine. Thank you for all the good book recommendations.
There was nothing signed after the message, and she couldn’t help but chuckle as it sunk in. She certainly thought she was past such a thing happening to her. She wondered if it was too good to be true, if it would become something strange or uncomfortable, but for now, she decided to enjoy the random good thing the universe had sent her way. The bouquet was small, it far more her style than a big arrangement of red roses, the tulips subtle and just enough, and the message felt personal and sweet. They… seemed to know her, but in a pleasant way. She could smile when she looked at the bouquet, instead of looking over her shoulder wondering who on earth had sent them.
She thought that her colleagues may care about the flowers more than she did. They deduced it had to be someone she knew, considering the book recommendation comment… but it in no way narrowed things down. Everyone working that day vehemently denied sending them, and the suggestions for who could be behind them only became sillier the more they agonised over it in the staffroom. She let them have their fun, taking all the ideas with a good-natured laugh and a little eye roll when she turned away, but didn’t think any deeper about it. The flowers had only come that day. It almost felt rude trying to uncover their identity so fast.
Despite being dismissive of her secret admirer’s identity, she did feel a little giddy whenever she laid eyes on the flowers, excited to go home and put them pride of place on the dining table in a nice vase. Maybe, she’d mention them at book club to keep the mystery going if it all hadn’t turned weird in a few days, a thought that brought up someone else she perhaps wouldn’t mind telling about the flowers. It might make her laugh a little, give her something to focus on… and it was always so lovely seeing her smile.
Nora and Tim were some of her favourite people that visited the library. Tim seemed a little younger than fifteen sometimes, and it was a joy seeing him come out of his shell more as he joined in and socialised with other teenagers at the library. He could say the most… interesting things right out of the blue, and it was hard not to burst out laughing and encourage it. She admired his mother a lot, seeing a bit of herself in her, raising her son by herself after losing her husband. There was an air of sadness around Nora that made her chest hurt, and she hoped that even if it was in a small way, she could help a little. She deserved to be happy, especially after what she’d been through.
Even though she knew it was foolish, her eyes kept returning to the doors of the library through the day. Nora and Tim never came to the library on a Monday, and that day proved to be no exception. She told herself to be sensible as she gathered her things to leave for the day, flowers tucked close to her chest and her own library loans for the week in a bag hooked over her shoulder. She wasn’t going to get all mushy because she had a secret admirer. She had to keep a clear head.
She spotted the blue car in the parking lot soon after leaving the library behind, and chuckled when her son got out and rushed over to her.
“Hello, Rory,” Mona greeted. “Thank you for picking me up again today.”
“Hey, mom - it’s cool,” Rory said, moving to open the door for her. “I had the time. Want me to take that bag for you?”
Mona nodded. “That would be lovely. I’m so lucky to have a son as thoughtful as you.”
She slipped the library tote bag off her shoulder and held it out to Rory, not wanting to crush the flowers as she moved to get into the car. He reached to take it with a smile that was wiped off his face the minute he realised how heavy it was, letting out an ‘oof’ as he staggered forward. With a pained, awkward grin, he caught himself before the bag could hit the floor, but the words left his mouth regardless.
“Shit!” He exclaimed. “What do you have in here, mom? Bricks or something?”
“Language, Rory,” Mona scolded. He mumbled an apology, looking down at the concrete. “Bricks? It’s just a few books I checked out for myself. Should do for the week.”
Rory tugged the bag open, eyes bulging when he saw the five books stacked inside. “You’ll get through all these in a week?! We really need to get you out more, mom.”
Mona rolled her eyes but smiled all the same, taking the bag off him and placing it by her side. She’d always hoped that Rory would enjoy reading as much as she did, and had really tried her best when he was a child, but he now avoided books like the plague. It disappointed her, but there were rare times where it came in handy. If she needed Rory to drop things or for a conversation to end, there was no better way than for her to lightly suggest he give reading another crack or that he really should sign up for a library card… just in case.
Rory shut the door of the car a little too hard as he got behind the wheel, mumbling another apology when he saw her flinch. “So… do you know what’s up with your car?”
“They told me that it would be easier to list what wasn’t wrong with it,” Mona said with a grimace. “I’m still going to pay for the repairs, though. I can afford it, and I’m attached to it, you know. I used to drive you to school in that car.”
“It’s ancient, mom.” Rory huffed. “It’s cool if you wanna get some sick new ride. It’s probably like, one road trip away from dying forever.”
At that same moment, Rory’s own car let out a sputtering wheeze when he attempted to start it.
“Don’t say anything,” he muttered.
Mona held up her hands in response, though a chuckle slipped out. The bouquet of tulips crinkled, and at last, Rory noticed them.
“Was it like, your anniversary at the library today?” He asked.
Mona hesitated before she said anything, watching as he attempted to start his own problematic car again. She let out a sigh of relief when they got on their way, holding the tulips a little closer. She loved him more than anything, but he was one of the worst drivers she’d ever met.
“Oh, no - someone sent them to me,” she said.
Rory frowned out at the road. “Someone sent you flowers? Who? Some weirdo from your book club with a crush?”
“Rory! The people at my book club are not weird. No one knows. They didn’t sign the card,” Mona replied, noting another sheepish apology at her chiding. “It’s… intriguing, I suppose. thought I was past this sort of thing at my age, but the note wasn’t uncomfortable and there’s been no one strange lurking today. If they start sending things every day or I pick up on something weird, it’ll change, but for now, it’s… nice. Added something a little different to the day.”
“You… don’t want to know who sent them?” Rory asked quietly. It was a far calmer reply than she had expected.
Mona shrugged. “Well… it might spoil it, won’t it?”
“You have to want to know!” Rory countered. “If someone was sending me flowers, I’d want to make sure if it was someone I liked.”
“I forgot how bad you are with any sort of mystery,” Mona said, shaking her head. “I remember as a child, you used to rip little strips of wrapping paper off your Christmas gifts so you could peek at what you were getting.”
Rory gasped. “I thought you never knew!”
“I’m not a fool, honey,” Mona teased, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder as they arrived on her street. “If it gets weird, I can deal with it, believe me. Maybe they won’t send anything else and they’re embarrassed. It’s fine.”
“I still don’t know how you’re not like, desperate to know who it is,” Rory said. “It would like, kill me.”
Mona chuckled and retrieved her bag of library books, slipping it over her shoulder with ease as they arrived on her street. “I’ll see you later. Thank you for driving me home, and stay safe, alright?”
She tried to ignore the fact that ‘stay safe’ had now become more a plea for him not to do anything stupid. Rory nodded, but didn’t make any promises, and she willed herself to believe him.
***
Now that he’d dropped off his mom, it was time for Rory Peters to become yet another version of himself - the Rory he hoped she’d never find out about.
He looked away from the road to spare a glance down at the time on his phone, letting out a shriek when he almost drove straight into a pole. Crisis averted, a somewhat strained smile settled onto his face, filled with gratitude that no one had been around to see that display. He was going to be late, and hoped he wouldn’t get too much shit for it. Driving his mom home from work wasn’t exactly cool, but he couldn’t let her down. She mattered to him more than anything else in the world… at least, that was what he told himself. He was an adult. He was allowed to have hobbies. It was just like her books, in a way.
He knew what he was going to hear the minute the front door opened. “I was starting to think you weren’t gonna come tonight.”
Rory rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. You know that I don’t miss a party.”
It was a fairly standard greeting for the two of them. Brentley Perry was the closest thing in the world that he had to a best friend, and he wasn’t sure what that said about either of them. He liked to believe that Brent cared about him to some degree, but also knew that his… habits had contributed to the new car in Brent’s parking space and helped him afford the rent for the apartment that was way nicer than his own. He’d insist that he cared about Brent too. He’d never want to see anything horrible happen to the guy… and while he didn’t want to admit it, he did need him.
Brent, however, was also one of the most annoying people he had ever met.
Sometimes, he felt like the only person who could see it. Brent was the type of person that could walk into any room and come out with a cluster of new friends and opportunities. Everyone seemed to regard him as smooth and charming, and he was able to pull just about whoever he wanted… even when Rory thought he was batting well out of his league. His rather square head and chunky brown highlights felt like such a turn-off, but women went crazy for him. It was bizarre to witness.
Brent also loved to provoke him. Rory was no stranger to stirring people up, it a pastime he quite enjoyed… but what made it so terrible with Brent was the fact he could never tell if he was joking or not. He was unable to hide how it drove him mad, and thus, the cycle continued.
He followed Brent inside his apartment, exchanging greetings with the people he passed, happy to know his presence had been missed. He did his best to look an acceptable level of perceptive and friendly without being pulled into a conversation. There was important business to attend to first - getting a damn drink, and being Brent’s best friend had some perks. He could bypass the cheap offerings in ice buckets in the foyer and get something from his kitchen instead.
Brent leaned against the counter as Rory rummaged through his fridge, raising a fresh bottle of beer to his lips. “So… why so late? Finally scored a hot date?”
Rory scoffed. “Dude, fuck you. I had to drive my mom home. Her old-ass car gave up on her and they’re still working on fixing it.”
He was probably the only friend he would admit the real reason to, Brent preferring to make fun of things a little more abstract than him caring about his mom. They knew more about each other than the rest of their circle did. Brent opened up more when he was inebriated, and a miserable picture had been painted of his past that Rory never quite knew what to do with. He, on the other hand, simply let things slip from his lips because of an unfortunate penchant for stupidity. When he looked up at Brent and saw the insufferable smirk on his face, he was hit with the familiar realisation that he’d screwed up.
“And how is the lovely Mona?” Brent asked, tilting his head. “You know, if you ever can’t make it, I’d always drive her home for you.”
Rory wasn’t sure who he wanted to punch more out of the two of them. The task of grabbing an ice cold beer now felt monumental.
The thing that troubled him the most in his friendship with Brent by far was the fact that he had a… thing for his mom. He knew Brent was into older women, but it never crossed his mind that he’d be into his mom. He’d only had to meet her once to become smitten, and every interaction between Brent and his mom made Rory nauseous. Mona never seemed uncomfortable with Brent’s attempts at flirting, instead regarding him as… sweet, yet another person that had fallen under his stupid friend’s spell. What he hated the most about it was the fact he still wasn’t sure if Brent really liked his mom, or if it was an increasingly elaborate game to piss him off.
“I’ll have the time, believe me,” Rory muttered. He retrieved an ice cold beer from the very back of the fridge, shutting the door so hard the contents inside rattled. “And yeah, she’s fine. Just… her normal self.”
Brent nodded, taking another sip of his beer. “Has she asked about me?”
“No,” Rory snapped, unscrewing the cap of the bottle. Brent’s snickering when he fumbled with it only made things worse. “Why the fuck would she ask about you?”
“’Cause she likes me,” Brent said with a grin. Rory only wanted to punch him more.
“My mom likes everyone, pretty much,” he said, taking a long swig from the bottle. “And everyone likes my mom - you’re not special. She’s great. Just today some random person sent her flowers.”
The regret flooded him the moment the words left his lips. He wanted to slam his head in the door of the fridge, hoping maybe then, he’d learn. He could practically see the wheels turning in Brent’s head, and he turned as white as a sheet. How had it never occurred to him before? There had to be no way…
“Oh,” Brent said, the reply far too casual for Rory’s liking. “Really? I was wondering when those were gonna show up...”
Rory told himself he was not going to take the bait, and yet, a miserable look of horror appeared on his face. Brent burst into wheezy, awful laughter at the sight, almost doubling over.
“Not funny.”
Brent only laughed harder, and the longer it went on, the stronger Rory’s fear became, it feeling just like the type of shit Brent would pull to get a rise out of him. He couldn’t stop himself from asking the question on his mind, and his grip tightened around the bottle in his hand, somewhat surprised it didn’t crack.
“You… aren’t serious, right?”
Slowly, Brent began to put himself back together, and he took a sip from the bottle to draw things out more. “I don’t know, man. Do you think it’s true?”
Rory’s frown deepened. “Brent. Not fucking funny.”
He was aware that it was the most he could stress things without becoming the subject of ridicule for the night. To his knowledge, none of his friends knew about Brent’s supposed crush on his mom, and he absolutely wanted to keep it that way. Brent stirring him up when it was just the two of them together was bad enough. The thought of having an audience to it was unbearable.
“I’m not trying to be funny,” Brent replied. He reached out and gave Rory a condescending pat on the cheek, sliding out of the way before he could retaliate. “Come on, there’s a party out there. You’re not turning into some anxiety-ridden freak on me, are you?”
“’Course not,” Rory replied, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
As expected, Brent did not wait for him, and Rory breathed a sigh of relief when he was alone in the kitchen, bass thumping through the walls. He placed the bottle down on the counter and willed himself to think, a task that felt difficult at the best of times, made even more challenging by all the terrible, panicky thoughts running through him. Brent could not have sent those flowers. It wasn’t his style in the slightest. He liked to get into the next bed as soon as possible, the wrong guy for anyone after flowers, chocolates and forever. To annoy him, though? Maybe there’d be an exception…
He had to figure out who sent those damn flowers. He felt like a weird freak for being so invested, but did his best to brush away the thought. He was just trying to help his mom. She tried to help - or meddle - in his own life from time to time. Just the week before, she’d gently tried to nudge him in the direction of signing up for a speed dating night, and he’d conjured up a lie about an audition for a nonexistent band to get out of it. He didn’t even own his guitar anymore, and he felt horrible for lying to her about such a thing… but there was no way he was going to suffer through speed dating.
For once in his life, he was going to try and do the right thing… but for now, there was a party to enjoy.
***
Tim had been deposited at book club for the evening, so Nora had some rare time to herself. She settled down in one of the comfortable, plush beige chairs by the library entrance, surrounded by magazine stands. She also had a clear view of the front desk where Mona often resided… though she’d deny that had any influence in her choice of seat. Her current read rested on her lap, and she was really trying to finish it so she could hopefully talk to Mona about it before she left that day, but she hadn’t turned a page in minutes. Instead, she was thinking about flowers.
She and Mona had exchanged a greeting as usual when she’d noticed her and Tim, but she’d been so busy there’d been no extra time to talk. From the glimpses she’d gotten, she looked like her usual self. She wasn’t looking over her shoulder, fidgeting, or otherwise looked like something was bothering her. Maybe, the flowers had been received… at least okay, or something had gone wrong and they’d never made it to Mona at all. She wasn’t sure which idea was preferable… just that she hated that the image of Mona smiling at the pink tulips she’d picked out was making her stomach do flips like she was a teenager again.
Already, she was thinking about sending another small bouquet once a week had passed and the gesture had time to breathe, not wanting to overwhelm Mona or risk making her uncomfortable. The thought made her at last turn her attention back to her book - it wasn’t going to finish itself, after all.
She managed to finish one chapter before the sound of rustling distracted her, and the sound of someone clearing their throat made her look up from the book. At first, she thought she must have wasted so much time thinking about Mona and the flowers that Tim’s book club meeting was already done, but she didn’t recognise who was approaching her at all. There was something familiar there, but in a vague way she opted to dismiss. She thought she’d remember meeting this man… unfortunately.
Nora doubted that the hooligan had even bothered to brush his hair before leaving the house, and she could tell it was greasy before he’d even approached her chair. His layered outfit was crumpled, and she spotted what looked like a ketchup stain on his brown cargo pants. With a grimace, she slid her faded bookmark between the pages and curled her fingers around her bag. If he posed a problem, she would be more than happy to whack him with it.
Her voice was cool and sharp, looking at him with the disdain she reserved for most people around his age. “Can I help you?”
It was then that she noticed the man was holding a clipboard, clashing spectacularly with the rest of his vibe. Despite the fact he was approaching her, he looked baffled by the question, the clipboard almost slipping out of his hands. Nora’s grip loosened on her bag just a little at the pathetic sight, sure such incompetency couldn’t be feigned, but didn’t move her hand away.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he mumbled, looking down at the clipboard. She craned her neck and noted that the papers attached were as crumpled as his outfit. “I was wondering if you’d be down to sign my… petition thing.”
Nora raised an eyebrow. “Petition… thing?”
He nodded, greasy curls falling in his face. He brushed them away with a sheepish smile. “Yeah. So… what do you say?”
She made no move to take the pen or the clipboard he held out, already left with the desire to dig her lavender scented hand sanitiser out of her bag. “Usually people explain what their petition is for before they ask someone to sign.”
He blinked at her, and she swore she heard him curse under his breath. Her grip tightened on her bag again.
“Well, uh…” he began, eyes darting down to the clipboard, “it’s about… library… stuff.”
Nora nodded. “I see. Library stuff. And what library stuff are you trying to petition for? Longer opening hours, extra funding, an updated computer system? More programs, extra staff? Please enlighten me. I want to know what I’m signing.”
As the man attempted to fumble for an answer, the familiar jingling sound of a library lanyard caught her attention. She peered past him and saw Mona rushing towards them, wearing an expression she knew well - a strange kind of exhaustion, worn only when Tim was really trying her patience. She gave Nora a small, pained nod and then turned to the man, arms crossed over her navy cardigan.
“I’ve been receiving complaints that a man is walking around with some sort of unauthorised library petition,” she muttered, reaching for his arm. He looked down immediately, and Nora found herself trying to stifle a laugh.
“Look… I can explain-”
Mona held up a hand and all his words died, another thing Nora recognised from parenting Tim. “Believe me, you will. Nora, I’m very, very sorry about this, and I promise that he won’t bother you again.”
She took him by the arm and disappeared with him behind a nearby magazine rack before Nora could say a word in response. She was well aware that the right thing to do would be return to her book, and while she did open it again, her gaze did not go back to it. Instead, while it sat wrong with her, she tried to… casually lean over a little, unable to help her curiosity.
“What on earth is this all about?” Mona asked. Nora soon heard the rustling sound of paper. “I’m surprised you got so many people to sign. I… I don’t know how I’m going to explain any of this, Rory.”
There was a hesitation before he replied. Nora was sure she could imagine him, mournful brown eyes darting down to the ground and shuffling from one foot to the other as he fumbled for an answer. “I was, uh, trying to collect… handwriting samples, you know.”
Mona’s voice rose just above a whisper. “Handwriting samples?!”
“Yeah,” Rory replied, and Nora had a feeling that at last, he’d realised how ridiculous he was being. “To… you know… figure out who sent you those flowers.”
Nora’s grip tightened around her book, heart pounding. Mona had received them…
“Oh, Rory…” Mona said with a sigh. “You really need to let this go. I said I’d tell you if there was an update.”
“You don’t understand, mom,” Rory stressed. “I just… need to make sure that a certain person hasn’t sent them. That’s all.”
Some of the pieces clicked into place then, it making sense why he’d had that vague sense of familiarity around him, but he hadn’t been what she’d been expecting in the slightest when she tried to picture what Mona’s son would be like. With the way Mona talked about him sometimes, she’d expected him to maybe be a year or so older than Tim at most. She soon chided herself for being judgmental. Tim could be a bit of a handful sometimes, and she didn’t love him any less. She just… hadn’t met Mona’s son at his best, perhaps.
“A… certain person?” Mona asked. She could picture the little frown on her face that Nora saw often when she was concentrating on something, and her face filled with warmth at the image. “Rory, I promise I can handle it. It’s just been the flowers. I’m not being bombarded with daily gifts, there’s been no one following me around, there’s been no weird notes left around the place… it’s fine.”
“But… don’t you want to know?” Rory asked. “I just… don’t want it to…”
Mona let out a soft sigh. “Rory, sweetheart… are you… feeling… uncomfortable with the idea of me seeing someone again? I know that it’s always just been the two of us, and I just want you to know that I’d never, ever love you any less because I-”
“Oh god, mom, no!” Rory exclaimed, and Nora chuckled at how she shushed him. “… sorry. No, it’s fine. Dad’s been dead longer than I can remember. As long as they’re nice, whatever. That’s the problem - I just need to make sure it’s not-”
“Honey, it’s fine, I promise. Things are perfectly manageable right now, and if it’s not, I’ll handle it myself,” Mona said, words firm but with just enough warmth underneath. “They might not even send anything else - it’s almost been a week. Maybe they regret it, or they’re a bit shy… or I don’t know, maybe it was some colleague that feels sorry for me. I don’t want to expect anything. I think it’s sweet someone cared enough at all.”
When Nora dared to look over, she saw Mona give him a hug, and she laughed a little at his hesitation, the grumbling that he was embarrassed… another thing she knew all too well.
“I need to go back to work, okay?” Mona said. She pulled away, and Nora immediately looked back at her book when she caught sight of the devious little smile on her wine-coloured lips. “But while you’re here, we could definitely get you a library card…”
“No!” Rory yelped. Mona shushed him again. “Sorry. I… I mean, no, it’s cool. I don’t wanna like, waste more time or anything… and I just… remembered I have this… thing to do. I’ll see you around, mom.”
She heard Mona let out a little laugh that only made her heart warmer. “Goodbye, Rory. Take care.”
She focused her attention back on her book, cheeks warm, and didn’t get much more reading done. Instead, her brain rushed to process it all, and she was smiling like some silly lovesick teenager. Mona was so sweet, and thoughtful, and while her son had his quirks… it sounded like she was a good mom. And she thought it was sweet someone cared at all to send her flowers. It made her heart twinge. She knew what it was like, wondering why anyone would do something nice for her. The thought of Mona feeling like that was unfathomable.
Nora did not finish her book that afternoon, but she wasn’t too upset with herself. Planning was a perfectly acceptable excuse.
***
Mona flinched at the sound of her name, it said in that somewhat tight way that meant they’d probably said it once or twice before being able to secure her attention. Whenever she got in the zone working on things behind the front desk, she could sometimes get a little lost for awhile, and she pushed a somewhat awkward into place as she looked up. The same coworker that had given her the mysterious flowers stood there, and to her relief, she didn’t look cross. The last thing she’d ever want would be to come off rude.
“Sorry,” she said hurriedly, brushing her hair out of her face, “how can I help?”
Her colleague’s smile grew more playful. “It looks like your secret admirer has come back. I thought they’d given up. The flowers are exquisite, though. You’re a lucky woman.”
Mona watched as her coworker slipped her hand from out behind her back, and while she wanted to believe she was above it, a soft gasp escaped her when she laid eyes on the flowers. The bouquet was a little larger than the one prior, but it was not such a vast increase in size that it made Mona nervous. She spied vibrant purple tulips mixed in with the pink ones, and her smile grew. No matter the kind, she absolutely adored purple flowers, and the ribbon the same shade as the tulips wrapped around the bouquet was such a wonderful extra touch.
“These are beautiful!” Mona said. Before that first bouquet, she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had gotten her flowers, and she never got tired of the sweet, relaxing scent.
Her colleague nodded. “So… you still have no idea who they’re from?”
Mona could see another little card dangling from the bouquet, but made no move to open it, it feeling like too personal to do while she had company. “No idea. Whoever they are, they seem lovely.”
“You really aren’t curious to know?” She asked.
“I mean… a little,” Mona said, ducking her head a little, “but if they want me to know, they’ll tell me. I don’t want to push them. Maybe it’ll spoil things, knowing who they’re from.”
She laughed. “Well… let us know how it goes, alright? If any further gifts show up, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stop some of the others from setting up a betting pool.”
Mona gave her a good-natured roll of her eyes, relieved when she got a laugh in response. Her heartbeat began to speed up when she watched her colleague walk off, and when she was alone, turned her attention back to the flowers. She ran her fingers over the soft petals of the tulips, trying to ignore the tremor in her hand when she reached to flick open the card. The same beautiful handwriting greeted her, unable to help tracing the cursive with a painted red nail as she read over the message.
I saw the purple ones and thought of you. I hope you like them.
It was a simple message, but it made her heart thrum with something she didn’t think she’d felt in a long time. Someone had seen those beautiful purple tulips and thought of her… it meaning more to her than any cheesy declaration or a corny poem ever could have, and while she wanted to ignore it, her curiosity burned. It would be nice to be able to say thank you, but she remained unsure about trying to figure out who was behind the flowers. It felt like putting pressure on them. For now, she was content to admire the flowers as she worked, nestled beside her on the front desk to take home after her shift, remaining in the corner of her eye to make her heart beat the little bit faster.
The only thing that made her day even better was the sight of two of her favourite library visitors coming through the sliding doors just after four o’clock. She returned Tim’s wave and shot a smile at Nora, who she swore blushed as she returned it, watching as Tim moved to slide that week’s books down the return chute as usual and head over to the desk with his mom.
“Hello again,” Mona greeted. “Enjoyed those books, Tim?”
He gave her an enthusiastic nod. “I can’t wait to continue that series. The mutant worms killing that kid was sick.”
Nora paled beside him, and Mona snorted. She and Nora had chatted about the boy gravitating towards the dark and macabre, and she assured her that it meant nothing sinister. If Tim wanted to talk about anything he read, he’d come to her if she gave him some room, and Nora seemed a little relieved after that. He was a good kid, and it was nice to see a parent that wasn’t lurking over their child’s shoulder ready to slap any book out of their hand that they found even the slightest problem with.
“Well, the third one was returned yesterday - you should have received the email saying it was ready this morning,” Mona said.
“I’ve been looking forward to it all day,” Tim replied. Before he could head off in the direction of the reservations shelf, the tulips grabbed his attention. “Where’d those come from?”
Mona laughed. “Well… it looks like I have myself a secret admirer. They came a little earlier.”
Tim broke out into a somewhat devious grin. “A secret admirer, huh?”
What happened next surprised Mona. She swore that Tim gave his mother a nudge in the side, and a blush soon appeared. A strand of blonde hair fell in her face, but she made no move to tuck it behind her ear. Instead, she seemed to be concentrating on looking anywhere but Mona or the vibrant flowers on the desk.
“Do you know who they’re from?” Tim asked, shooting another grin at his mom.
“Tim,” Nora said, “you can’t ask Mona questions like that. It’s rude.”
Mona laughed. “It’s alright. I have no clue. It’s probably just a coworker being nice or something, really.”
Nora stepped in before Tim could open his mouth again. “How about you go get your reservation?”
Before he could protest, Nora shot him a stern look that Mona recognised from many conversations she’d had with Rory over the years, unable to help a small giggle as he trudged off to start browsing. Now that the two were alone, Nora’s shoulders relaxed, but she noted that the blush remained. She’d never seen her… flustered before, and the thought hit her harder than she expected it to. It was cute.
“I… um, finished the book that you recommended, by the way,” Nora said, doing her best to look her in the eye. “I dropped it off on my lunch break yesterday. It was really good… and that ending… oh my god. I put my name on the list for the next one right away!”
Mona grinned. She sometimes wondered if there was ever a feeling more euphoric than recommending a book to someone and them loving it. “I’m glad to see my streak has continued.”
She wondered where the words had come from, and her own face flushed. What she said next only surprised her more.
“I know that the waiting list is quite long, and we were only able to get three copies,” Mona began, “if you don’t want to wait, I own a copy. I… could bring it in for you next time, if you want.”
Nora’s eyes widened. “Really? That… that’s very sweet of you, Mona. If you’re alright with it, I’d love to borrow it.”
Mona nodded. “I trust you and Tim with books, believe me. I’ll pop it in my bag tonight so I’ll have it here when you come in next.”
“I can’t wait,” Nora said.
The words hung in the air for a moment. The two locked eyes and noted the same nerves in the other’s, a similar trace of pink in their cheeks. She’d never noticed how pretty Nora’s blue eyes looked before, and was relieved to see they looked a little less tired that day. Her small, shy smile was so cute, and she almost wanted to tell her there was no need to be nervous around her. There were… butterflies in her stomach. She’d told herself she was long past that sort of thing.
“I… I should probably make sure Tim’s not getting into trouble,” Nora blurted out, “and I know you must be busy. Thank you again for the book. I… I’ll no doubt see you again before we leave.”
All Mona could do was nod, Nora heading off in the direction of the adult fiction section before she could say a word in return. She did her best to focus back on the computer screen, but things felt far more… difficult now. Her thoughts were running a mile a minute, and each one felt sillier than the last.
Could… Nora have sent the flowers?
She opened the note again. It could have been from anyone, but she could hear Nora’s voice in her head as she read it over once more. Only because she’d thought it now, she reminded herself. It was ridiculous. There was no way they could be from Nora. It was foolish that the idea excited her so much, and she needed to get those feelings under control before she made things awkward.
Things that were particularly exciting never really happened to her. The most plain explanation felt like the most rational one. They were probably from a colleague who felt sorry for her, or she’d never find out who they were from at all, and that was it.
Her gaze returned to the flowers regardless, and when Nora returned with Tim so he could check out his books for the week, she noticed that hers kept going over to them too.
***
After his awkward, failed trip to the library, Rory opted to stay in the car while he waited for his mom. He fidgeted in his seat, batted the fuzzy dice hanging from his rear view mirror, and scrolled on his phone, it not taking long before boredom set in. By now, his mom had often come out of the library and he was trying not to drop her bag filled with books as she got in the car. Thinking of the pile of books made him panic a little. What if she’d tripped and fallen, and was buried under an avalanche of books or something? He knew there was a reason he avoided reading.
He pushed open the door of the car and promised himself he wouldn’t cause any trouble, or embarrass his mom at her workplace again. He just… wanted to make sure that she was okay.
Rory spotted her behind the front desk of the library immediately, the place just about dead at that time of night - he knew they were technically closed now - but despite the fact she was fine, no avalanche of books in sight, all was not well anyway. His pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, and bit back a whine at the pain he caused. He’d recognise those chunky brown highlights anywhere. The worst part was that he couldn’t get himself to move - all he could do was watch Brent standing there in the damn library, talking to his mom.
“All set,” Mona said, offering Brent a bright smile. “You just have to sign the back of the card.”
Brent nodded, and Rory felt a little nauseous watching how he made sure he and his mom brushed hands as he took the pen from her. “There we are. All good to check out now?”
“Of course,” Mona said, shoving the pen back into the little holder on the desk. “The limit is seventy-five items per card.”
“Good to know,” Brent said. He leaned against the desk, and Rory could imagine the shit-eating grin on his face perfectly. “I mean… I was kind of checking something out here before I joined… but it’s good to know I can do it the right way now.”
Rory wanted to grab the nearest piece of furniture and hit him with it.
“Oh, stop.” Mona chuckled, looking down at the books on the desk. “So… just these three today?”
“Yeah,” Brent replied. “Thanks for the recommendations. You really look like you know what you’re doing.”
“I’d like to think so,” Mona said, scanning the books with precision and sliding them over. “I hope you enjoy them.”
“I’m sure I will, Mona.” Brent tucked the books under his arm, and Rory was sure he was still wearing that same awful grin. “Nice flowers, by the way. Someone special get you those?”
Rory’s eyes darted to the pink and purple tulips on the counter, and his horror deepened. Of course he’d come to take a look at his handiwork…
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Mona grinned, reaching out to run her fingers over the petals of one of the purple tulips. “That’s the thing… I don’t know who they’re from. I thought I was far too old for the secret admirer thing, but it’s kind of exciting, I suppose. If they tell me, they tell me. I’m just happy they have such good taste in flowers.”
Brent chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out, Mona. You’re too special to pass by.”
Mona tore his receipt from the small printer on the counter, not breaking eye contact. “Thank you, Brentley. Now… I really should let you go. You enjoy the books, and take care.”
“You too, Mona,” Brent said, words far to sweet for any version of his best friend that Rory recognised. He at last turned away from the counter, and his suspicions about that awful grin proved to be correct. “I’ll be back to let you know how I went, and I promise I’ll be thorough.”
Rory retreated out to the library entrance, face pale. As soon as Brent emerged, he stormed up to him, tugging on the sleeve of his jean jacket. To his frustration, he barely got a reaction, Rory’s frown deepening as they staggered further away from the doors.
“Why the fuck are you here?”
Brent shrugged, the feigned innocence almost worse than the flirting. “What do you mean, dude? Can’t a man enjoy the public library in peace?”
“Come on,” Rory said, letting go of Brent’s jacket. “Since when do you read?”
He looked more offended than Rory had ever seen in their several years of friendship, mouth agape. “Of fucking course I read, dumbass. Where do you think I got my great vocabulary from?”
Rory was so stunned by the reply that he almost froze, but the glint of the plastic in his other hand grabbed his attention before he could. “Give me that.”
For a rare time, Rory reacted before Brent could, wrenching the library card out of his hand. He turned it over, his own hand shaking, and for the first time since he saw his so-called best friend talking to his mom inside, he managed to relax a little bit. There was no mistaking that scrawl for the beautiful cursive that had been on the card his mom received with the first bouquet of tulips.
“You can drop it now, man,” Rory said, thrusting the card back into his hand, “I know the flowers aren’t from you.”
“Why do you say that?” Brent asked, sliding the library card into his pocket. “You sound pretty confident for someone so stupid.”
The words rolled right off, Rory’s smile not fading in the slightest. “Your writing doesn’t match. The writing on that first card was kind of like art. There’s no way you’d ever be able to pull something like that off.”
He watched as Brent let the words sit there for a second. He knew that the wheels would be turning in his head, but for once, he was confident that he was the one with the power. For a rare time, he’d managed to use his brain, and had at last been able to show that he wasn’t that stupid after. It lasted for about half a minute before Brent began to laugh, and he had a sinking feeling that yet again, the guy had been able to outsmart him.
“Rory, my man,” Brent began, reaching out to give him a pat on the shoulder, “I’m a busy man. You really think I’m signing my own cards, even for someone as hot as your mom? I have places to be.”
Rory slapped his hand away, an action that only made Brent laugh harder as he headed towards the door out to the street. “Can you just tell me if they’re from you? Please?”
Brent turned back once, smirk on his lip. “All will be revealed, man. You just have to be patient.”
He left without another word, and Rory cursed under his breath. He really needed to find a better crowd.
***
Valentine’s Day had been like any other day after Nora’s husband passed, desperate not to dwell on it and make the ache in her chest harder to bear. The days of playful cards, beautiful bouquets of flowers and fancy dinners were over, her alone like she was every other day of the year. Over time, it became easier to blend into the background and block out the heart decorations, chocolates and jewellery advertisements, but that year, she woke up more excited on the day than she thought she’d been since she was a teenager. It was ridiculous, and she was more than a little nervous, but there was something in her begging her to at least try to take the chance.
Tim had been dropped off at her sister’s house that evening. She was relieved that her son had stayed quiet about her plan, and her sister was so happy to see her going out again that she hadn’t asked her to elaborate, more than content with the explanation that she was going to try out a book club at the library. She’d only told Tim in the first place to stop him from bombarding her with questions, and she was surprised to find she hadn’t regret it. His… surprisingly supportive words made her feel a little less like she was going to be ill.
You can do it, mom. I’m sure she’ll like you… and if she doesn’t… it’s cool. Her problem. I don’t know why she wouldn’t though. You’re… kind of cool. Sometimes.
Being called ‘kind of cool sometimes’ by her fifteen year old son almost had her making a quick trip for a lottery ticket. She was wondering if she should have asked if he was feeling well.
She had planned things the best she could. She’d bought a small pink heart-shaped box of strawberry and cream chocolates and signed a small card to go with it, wrapping a light purple ribbon around it in homage to the second bouquet of tulips. She had decided to go to the library around closing time, telling herself that it was to avoid having an audience to her embarrassment… but deep down, she was kind hoping Mona had already left for the day so she wouldn’t have to do something that scared her. Then, she could go home, cut her losses, and eat the chocolates herself, telling Tim later that she tried but the truth would just have to wait for another. It felt like a cowardly outcome to want, but at least she wouldn’t be walking away hurt.
She noticed Mona come out of the library as she approached, her purse on one shoulder and a tote bag bulging with books on the other. She couldn’t help a smile at the black cardigan covered in hearts, noticing matching heart earrings and a brooch that looked like a chocolate box pinned to the black shirt underneath. Mona’s theming on special days always stuck with her. It had been a delight to get a look at her holiday sweater collection the previous December, her picks more sophisticated than tacky. She almost wanted to ask where she found them, but felt far too shy about it… and yet now, she was here.
Mona’s smile brightened when she noticed her, and she soon moved to come over. “Nora! I’m so sorry - we just closed for the night. I… I do have that book I was going to lend you, though.”
“It’s alright. I thought I might be cutting it close,” Nora said. She kept one hand tucked behind her back, watching as Mona began to dig through her purse for the book. “Thank you again, by the way. It’s awfully kind of you to lend one of your own books to me.”
“For you? Completely fine,” Mona said. When she looked at her, Nora swore there was something a little playful in her smile, and her heart jumped into her throat for a moment. “Here you go. I hope you enjoy it as much as the first one.”
Their hands brushed when Nora moved to take the book, and just like with the pen over a year prior, Nora swore she felt a jolt of electricity through her. This time, she swore that Mona felt it too, noticing how her eyes widened for a moment, how a curl fell in her face and was soon tucked away behind her ear. She wanted to believe she felt it too, but tried to not let her thoughts run away from her. She didn’t want to have too much hope. It would only make it hurt more if things went poorly.
“I’ll start it tomorrow,” Nora said. She tucked the book under her arm, not wanting to drop the chocolates if she tried to slip it into her bag. She saw Mona’s warm smile and knew she had to take her chance, as much as it scared her.
“Look, Mona… I… I really appreciate everything you have done for Tim and I,” she began, “we feel really welcome here, you’re so good with him, and honestly… getting back into reading has changed a lot for me, and I’m really thankful.”
Mona’s smile grew as she listened, and Nora was charmed by how she ducked her head when the compliments kept coming. “Oh, Nora… that’s very sweet of you to say. I… I hope this doesn’t make things odd, but seeing you both come in is always a highlight of my week.”
“It’s the same for me,” Nora admitted, the compliment giving her the confidence she needed to continue. “I… I had something for you, actually. If it… makes you uncomfortable, or you don’t want it, I understand.”
Before Mona could say a word, Nora pulled her hand from behind her back and held out the heart-shaped box of chocolates, hoping Mona wouldn’t notice the slight tremble there. For a moment, her heart sank at the sight of her brow furrowing, but the initial confused reaction was soon replaced with a smile. Her heart raced as she took the box from her with care, the moment of truth mere seconds away. She flipped the card open, revealing that same beautiful cursive from the notes attached to the bouquets, only written in purple pen this time, and gasped, a bright, disbelieving laugh coming out with it.
Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope you aren’t disappointed. From Nora.
“Wait… it’s you who sent my mom the flowers?!”
The two women turned at the sound of the voice and the loud, thumping footsteps. Nora paled as Rory came over, while Mona wore the same embarrassment from his trip to the library, holding the chocolates tighter.
“Rory…” she began with a soft sigh, “please don’t.”
Rory put his hands up, breaking out into a wide, somewhat ridiculous grin. “What? No… no, I’m not mad. Just… it really is you who sent them? Really?”
Nora nodded, unable to get any words out. The fact he let out a noise that sounded half like a sigh of relief and half a shriek of joy only puzzled her further, and Mona looked just as lost.
“Oh, thank fuck,” Rory said though his laughter, “it was you! It wasn’t Brent! Thank fucking god! When I see him, I swear I’m gonna-”
Mona ran a hand over her forehead. “Why on earth would your friend Brentley be sending me flowers?”
Rory’s laughter stopped, smile growing more sheepish than cocky. “Don’t… don’t worry about that. It’s uh, nothing.”
“I’m going to trust you on that,” Mona muttered. “How about you… go home, honey? I think I’ll be okay.”
To both of their surprise, he left without any protests, letting out a joyful laugh as he departed, muttering about how he was so going to kick Brent’s ass. Mona and Nora looked at one another, faces still contorted in confusion, and when his car screeched out of the library parking lot, they were finally able to laugh.
“I’m so, so sorry about that,” Mona said, shaking her head.
“It’s alright,” Nora said. “I suppose I have my answer about if it gets easier when they’re grown up.”
To her relief, Mona burst out laughing, and it was one of the nicest sounds she’d ever heard. “Oh, he’s okay, I promise. I worry myself to death about him sometimes, but he’s fine. It’s just what we do as parents, I suppose. He has his quirks, but nothing would ever make me love him less.”
Nora smiled. “That’s lovely. I… I hope I’m not imposing, but you sound like a good mother.”
“Not imposing at all. That’s… very sweet of you to say. You are too, you know,” Mona said. Her eyes darted downwards, widening when, at last, she remembered the chocolates again. “Thank you, by the way. I… I’m sorry that I didn’t say it sooner.”
Nora couldn’t help the question that came out of her mouth, fingers running over the soft fabric of her light brown cardigan. “You… aren’t disappointed?”
Mona laughed, but there was no trace of anything mocking, it instead vibrant and warm. “No, not at all! In fact… I was hoping it was you… but I was scared I was asking for too much. These things… don’t really happen to me. I thought I was past all this, really, but you made me feel special. Those flowers were lovely… and you have such gorgeous writing.”
“You are special,” Nora replied. “I… I wanted you to see that. I’m glad you liked them. I tried to think about it first, I didn’t want it to come off weird or anything or-”
The feeling of Mona’s fingers brushing across her cheeks cut her off, the woman moving to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Not at all. I… I just wish I had something for you, that’s all. I don’t really count the book.”
Nora studied her as she pulled her hand back, the air between them somewhat awkward but a spark of hope lying underneath it. She’d already done numerous things that scared her that night… so why not one more? It was hard, but she wanted to try and live a bit.
“I mean… if you don’t have any plans… we could… go get dinner?”
Mona leaned in to press a soft, brief kiss to her cheek, and warmth filled her stomach. “I’d like that a lot.”
Nora nodded. She didn’t think she had the courage to return the kiss yet, but moved to take the woman’s hand. Mona’s hand fit nicely in hers, fingers threading through her own. She spared a glance down at their hands when they began to walk, and couldn’t help the disbelieving, almost silly smile on her face. She never thought anything like that would happen to her again… and she almost laughed when she looked up and saw a similar expression on Mona’s own face.
She had no idea where things were going to go, but on that cool Valentine’s Day night, she felt more hopeful for the future than she had in a long time. Before she opened the car door, she spared a glance back at the now dark library, and silently thanked it for bringing her Mona.