Unlikely Friends

by Sahar Abdulaziz

  “Who the heck let that guy on the computer?” she roared.

  “Irwin,” answered Roger without looking up from his computer screen.

  Irwin side-eyed him. “Is there a problem, Regan?”

  “Is there a problem?” she repeated. “Oh, there’s a problem all right. Do you know what he’s doing over there?”

  Irwin shook his head. “No, Regan. I do not have a single clue what he’s doing, but I’m sure that any minute now, you’ll enlighten me.”

  “He’s watching porn!” she announced loudly. “Hardcore boobs and all, right there near my children’s section!” she shrieked.

  “What’s a hardcore boob?” interjected Roger.

  “Lower your voices, both of you!” snapped Irwin, shooting Harper a glare.

  Harper shrugged helplessly and mouthed, “Sorry.”

  “Roger,” ordered Irwin, “man the desk while I’m gone. Regan, be quiet and come with me.”

  “Is there a problem?” asked Janice, turning the corner, pushing a cart full of books.

  Regan and Irwin stopped short and shook their heads no in unison. “No. No problem.”

  “Ah-huh.” Janice squinted. “I see. Well, okay then…” she mumbled, not believing either one of them. “I’ll be in the back room should you require my assistance.”

  The last person either of them needed was Janice.

  As soon as Janice closed the door, Irwin hightailed it over to where the old man sat entranced. A cacophony of loud moaning and humans gyrating in various contortions filled the computer screen. For once, Regan hadn’t been exaggerating.

  “Sir,” said Irwin, appalled. “You cannot watch that…that…stuff in the public library. I’m going to have to ask you to shut it off and leave immediately.”

  “I still got fifteen minutes,” was the old reprobate’s only defense.

  “For goodness sake.” Irwin leaned over, pushed a few buttons, and closed the page down. “Now, leave, before I call security.”

  “It’s the human body,” protested the man.

  “Pervert,” snarled Regan.

  After a few more grumbles and complaints, the old man left, but not before snapping to attention and bestowing upon Harper an exaggerated Bronx salute.

  Harper cringed. “Gross.”

  Irwin shook his head in disgust.

  I need a shower.

  Since that option was out of the question, he settled on a cup of strong coffee from the café. On his way, he pointed at Harper. “Follow me,” he ordered, not waiting for a reply.

  Harper trailed after him. “You aren’t mad at me about that purvey old guy debacle, are you?”

  Irwin ignored her question. “Coffee, tea, or juice?” he asked her, once in front of the café counter.

  “I’ll take a coffee.”

  “One coffee, light, no sugar. One apple juice,” he said to the young barista. “And add two Danish rolls to that, please.”

  “You got it.”

  While Irwin paid, Harper sat at the edge of her chair, nervous.

  Roger appeared holding the girl’s backpack. “Is this yours?” he asked.

  “Shit. Oh, I mean, thanks.” Harper reached for her pack.

  Roger gave Harper a slight nod and winked at Irwin.

  Irwin ignored Roger and placed a cup of apple juice and a small paper plate with a Danish in front of Harper. “Eat. Drink.”

  “I, um, said coffee.”

  “I know.” Irwin sat down. He flipped the plastic lid open and took a cautious swig. “Ahhh, much better.”

  Harper sipped her juice. Its coolness slid down her parched throat. “Thanks,” she said, glad he had ignored her request.

  “So, how did you make out last night?”

  Harper squirmed in her chair. “All right, I guess.”

  Irwin took another nip of coffee and a bite of his Danish. “Hmmm, not bad.”

  Famished, Harper dove into her food. “Pretty good,” she agreed, greedily taking another bite.

  Just as Irwin had suspected. The girl was hungry. He could already hear Cornelia’s harping in his head. “What is wrong with you? Can’t you see the child is hungry? Get her another one.” He mumbled something incoherent.

  “Did you just say something?” asked Harper.

  “What? Oh, no,” answered Irwin, flustered. For the next five minutes, the two sat and ate in companionable silence. Irwin sipped his coffee and ate his Danish while scrutinizing Harper as she swallowed and gulped her way through her snack, formulating his next move.

  “I better get back to work,” he said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin.

  “Thanks for the Danish and juice,” said Harper brightly.

  “You’re welcome.” Irwin started walking back to his desk.

  “And for last night,” Harper added.

  Irwin heard Harper and threw a half, dismissive wave up in the air. Afterward, he’d regret rushing away instead of talking more.

  “I’m back,” Irwin informed Roger. “Thanks for covering for me.”

  “No problemo.”

  “Did you do as I instructed?”

  “All taken care of, Capitan.”

  “Next,” yelled Irwin.

  ***

  “Are you kidding me right now?” yelled Cornelia, sitting in Irwin’s kitchen. “You never even asked her?” Cornelia slapped the kitchen table, incensed. “I don’t understand you sometimes, Irwin. I truly don’t. You had the perfect opportunity to get into her head, and you said nothing.”

  Irwin hated when Cornelia got all worked up, carrying on as if she had all the answers and he was nothing more than some lowly nincompoop. “She didn’t want to talk about it,” he tried to explain, somewhat contrite.

  Cornelia rolled her eyes and groaned. “Teenagers never want to talk about anything. You’ve got to be smarter than them. Sometimes you have to lead them to the water while their guard is down. Slowly, methodically…make them feel safe before sneaking in a few well-placed questions. I can’t believe I have to tell you this.”

  “I don’t think it works like that.”

  “Oh, it most certainly does.”

  “I wanted to give her space.” Irwin twisted the napkin in his hand.

  “Nonsense. You just didn’t want to prod, mostly because you hate when people do that to you. Plus, if Harper told you anything of consequence or expected something from you more than a grunt, then you’d feel obligated to do something to help her. And right now, you don’t want that responsibility, do you?” Cornelia shook her head. “I get it. I don’t agree with it, but I get it.”

  Cornelia knew him better than he gave her credit for. “Okay, so now what?”

  “As in, what do you do now?”

  Irwin nodded.

  “Nothing. You do absolutely nothing. You should be good at that.” Cornelia wasn’t holding back but paused to control her temper. “There’s nothing for you to do but wait her out until she reaches out to you. If she reaches out to you again.”

  “You think I blew it?”

  “Of course, you blew it.” Cornelia leaned in and tapped her finger on the kitchen table. “Answer me this. How can someone so well-read be such a big dummy?” She clasped her hands in front of her. “The next time Harper talks to you, don’t slink away and hide. Be there for her. Listen to what she tells you, but most of all, pay close attention to what she’s not saying.”

  “And how am I supposed to listen to what she’s not saying?”

  “The same way you’ve been listening to Dakota not say a damn word for the past four years.”

  “Ouch.”

  Cornelia flung her arms melodramatically in the air. “I’m sorry, Irwin, if the truth hurts. But it’s time you pulled your act together.” Cornelia pushed her hair back from her eyes. “You can’t stay locked up in your little protected bubble for the rest of your life, pretending that what happens to other people doesn’t bother you.”

  “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

  “
Look, all I’m saying is that you finally had a chance to help somebody who really needs a break, and for whatever reason, this person picked you. Don’t you get that? Harper picked you because she sees something in you worth her trust.” Cornelia glowered. “I mean it, Irwin. We’ve been neighbors and friends for a long time. I’ve watched you go from being a whole, happy, human being to an empty, dotty shell of one. I understand Gilly’s death devastated you and what happened to Dakota isn’t fair, but Harper’s here, very much alive and, from what you’ve described, in some serious trouble.”

  “I don’t know what I can do for her, Cornelia. I am a librarian. I go to work. I come home. I’ve never been married, and I don’t know the first thing about children, and certainly not teenagers. And let’s not forget that Harper’s got a mother—and a father, for what he’s worth. Me? I’m a total stranger.”

  “A stranger who she’s gravitated to—”

  “A stranger who has no business messing around in her life.”

  “No. Nope. Not this time.” Cornelia had all but lost her patience.

  “What do you mean, not this time?”

  “I mean I usually stay out of your business, but not this time.”

  This was news. Cornelia rarely if ever stayed out of his business, but Irwin didn’t think mentioning that detail would help him a whole lot right now. “And why not?”

  Cornelia looked about to cry but sniffled it back. “Honestly?”

  “No, lie to me.”

  “Because, Irwin, dear, I think your life depends on it.”

  “Slightly overly dramatic.”

  Cornelia snorted. “This coming from a man obsessed with mourning his fiancé’s death for four solid years, not to mention her comatose daughter.”

  “That’s different, and you know it.”

  “No, it’s safe. Gilly’s gone, and Dakota can’t complain. Neither one had expectations of you, but Harper is alive, in your face, and could use a helping hand.”

  “And what if I wind up hurting her more than helping? Then what?”

  “You won’t.”

  “You don’t know that, Cornelia. I tried to be there for Gilly. She’s gone. I tried to be there for Dakota, and now she’s leaving me too. I’m just not good with stuff like this.”

  “Then get good at it,” Cornelia stammered, slamming her fist on the table. “Harper needs you,” she repeated. “And soon, perhaps you’ll realize that you need her too.”

  “Maybe if I had more time,” he mumbled, spent.

  “If?” Cornelia found herself again wishing she could turn back time. “Make the time, Irwin. And while you’re at it, find yourself again, because frankly, I really miss that guy.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Harper

  Harper unlocked the front door, bracing herself, wary a new set of surprises would greet her. Except, thankfully, tonight there were none. All the shards of broken glass were swept up. The pillows on the couch fluffed. The table cleared of junk and cups. Although sparse, the room looked tidy and clean, but she kept her boots on, just in case.

  “Mom? Are you home?” she called out, peeking around in the different rooms, but no response.

  “Mom? I’m home.” Harper flicked on the kitchen light. A note in the middle of the table read:

  Harper,

  I’m working an extra shift tonight. Will be back late. Dinner’s in the fridge, red plastic container. Just warm up in the microwave. Make sure to lock up the house. I’ll be home as soon as I can.

  Love, Mom.

  Harper placed her mother’s note back on the table, dashed to the refrigerator, and tugged. On the middle shelf, as promised, her mother had left her a container filled with what appeared to be pasta and tomato sauce. As dull and as unappealing as it looked, she was starving and wishing she could have indulged in a second helping of that delicious Danish from hours before. But for now, the pasta would suffice.

  While waiting for the food to warm up in the microwave, Harper dumped her backpack on the table and pulled out the book Irwin gifted to her, saved for such an occasion. The monitor on the microwave beeped. She left the novel on the table while she went to retrieve her hopefully hot food. One could never be sure with this old model, ready for the trash pile years ago. After placing her food on the table, grabbing a fork, and filling a glass with cold water, she finally felt ready to plop down to a good read.

  Harper shifted and scooted around in her chair, rubbed her hands together in anticipation, opened the book to Chapter One.

  “What the heck?” A plastic card in a cardboard casing, the size and look of a credit card, slipped out and landed on the kitchen table.

  Who? How?

  She flipped it over. The front of the gift card displayed the name of the grocery store near the library. Harper’s name appeared on the cardboard envelope printed in the precise handwriting she had begun to recognize. Well, not exactly her name, but close enough.

  TO: Juvenile Delinquent.

  In the amount of $100

  From: Mr. Grumpy

  PS: Chew with your mouth closed.

  How did Irwin pull this off?

  Then she remembered. Harper laughed.

  When I forgot my bag. And I suppose that librarian dude is in on this too?

  This had to be one of the coolest things anybody had ever done for her, that and the book Irwin bought her. She’d never forget the book.

  With one hand, Harper held the card, refusing to put it down, lest it disappear. With the other hand, she stabbed cheerfully away at her noodles with a newfound vigor and vitality, shoving mounds-full into her mouth, giddy with excitement and the promise of a much needed, well-stocked refrigerator.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and kissed the card. “Thank you, Mr. Abernathy, sir!” Then she paused. Why would Irwin be so generous? A hundred dollars was a lot of money to go giving away to a complete stranger. And while admittedly she didn’t qualify any longer as a complete stranger, she sure was close enough. Harper frowned. Would Irwin expect something in return?

  Part of her wanted to hit the store tonight. Blow the entire amount. Every last penny. Buy the snacks and goodies she hadn’t indulged in for the longest, and keep it hidden upstairs, her little personal stash.

  Selfishness aside, a hundred dollars would buy a nice haul of smart, healthy food—food she and her mother could both enjoy. She remembered the holidays were coming. They’d be running a whole bunch of sales. She’d stop by there on the way to the library tomorrow and pick up their circulars. See where to get the most bang for her dollar. Perhaps clip a few coupons the way she had watched her mother do a thousand times to stretch her less than ample paycheck.

  Damn it, what do I do?

  Harper wished she could ask her mother, but knowing her, she’d automatically turn negative and think the worst. Always suspicious of anybody being this nice. And, more than likely, her mother would make Harper return it. No matter what Harper decided to do, she’d have to either give the money back or spend it without her mother’s knowledge.

  A bit of caution couldn’t hurt. She’d hold onto the card, just in case the gift came with strings attached. Harper moaned. She hated thinking anything negative about Irwin, him of all people, but she couldn’t help it. Her mother’s negativity had already washed off on her. Then again, she saw the dark side of people way too many times to just casually kick caution to the curb. Besides, it felt weird accepting such a significant gift.

  I’ll keep this for a bit. See what happens.

  And though Harper didn’t want to return it, she would, if she had to.

  Before she changed her mind, Harper bolted upstairs and into her bedroom to hide her delicious secret inside a box kept at the far back bottom of her closet.

  I’ll give it three days.

  Once downstairs, Harper finished the last few bites of her dinner and straightened up. She turned off the lights, checked the locks as per her mother’s reminder, and headed up to bed, her mind consumed with visions of heaping
plates filled with baked ziti, topped with fresh grated Parmesan cheese, and thick slices of Italian garlic bread slathered in real butter.

  ***

  Three days later

  With food store circulars in hand, Harper worked up the courage to march to the front reception desk where she found Irwin keeping himself busy doing nothing in particular, except skillfully avoiding her.

  “Thank you,” she said, heart pounding. Waiting for the other shoe to drop and possibly break a toe…or her heart.

  Irwin didn’t glance up from his paper. “You’re welcome.”

  That’s it?

  “Well, I appreciate it,” she said.

  Irwin nodded and bowed his head.

  Wait, was that shyness she just detected?

  “I just need to know why?” she asked him.

  Irwin shrugged. “What’s to know?”

  “That’s a lot of money. How am I supposed to repay you?”

  “By using it.” Irwin bent his head, continuing to avoid making eye contact.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Irwin froze and stared at Harper wide-eyed. “I know exactly what you meant. Now please excuse me,” he said in a gruff whisper and then disappeared into the back office area.

  Harper felt awful. Terrible. Dreadful. There was no mistaking the hurt in Irwin’s eyes.

  What a complete and utter shit I am. Damn it. How could I have misjudged him like that?

  Just as Harper turned to leave, Irwin returned gripping a pair of scissors. He marched towards her looking like Edward Scissorhands’s doppelganger.

  “You’re not planning to stab me with those, are you?” she asked, quick to take a slight step backward.

  “Regrettably, not today,” he answered, tone flat, not missing a beat. Irwin slammed the scissors on the table. “You’re going to need these to clip coupons.”

  Harper tipped her head. Was that a slight grin tugging at the corner of Irwin’s mouth? On second thought, she could have imagined it.