by Olivia Dade
“Again, I appreciate your thinking of me.” She dropped her hands and did her best to appear stern. “But I’m not looking for someone in my bed.”
“How about someone across a dinner table? Or beside you at a movie theater?”
With a sigh, Mary admitted, “That sounds nice.”
“I know you’re a strong, independent woman who doesn’t mind being single. If you want me to delete your profile, I will.” Angie met her gaze directly. “But I’d love to see you give this a shot. I promise you, I wouldn’t encourage you to do anything unsafe. You’re my coworker and friend, and I’d never put you in harm’s way.”
“I know.”
And she did know. Angie had a huge heart and endless reserves of loyalty for the people she loved. Also a strong streak of recklessness, but Mary had grown to love that too. As far as Mary was concerned, her boss should serve as a model for timid women everywhere.
“And have you considered the Singles Skydiving event we saw in the paper yesterday?”
Well, maybe not a model, exactly. More like inspiration, tempered by common sense. Heavily tempered, until death-defying feats were no longer involved.
“I might be willing to try online dating. But if you try to sling a backpack on me and shove me off a plane, I’ll haunt you from beyond the grave.” Mary raised her brows at Angie. “And you know I’m a woman of my word.”
Angie snorted. “So dramatic. You’ve been hanging out with Sarah too much.”
“Most likely.” A smile spread across her face at the thought of her best friend. “Her mannerisms were bound to rub off sooner or later.”
“So you’ll keep this profile?” Angie’s head tilted toward the computer screen.
“I’ll keep a profile,” Mary corrected. “Not necessarily yours. Heaven only knows what you said in it.”
“Not much. Just that you’re lovely, intelligent, hardworking, and sweeter than any of them deserve. Also that you appreciate men in a rainbow of delicious colors.”
She came closer to the monitor, curious what else her boss had entered into the form. “For pity’s sake, Angie. I have never, not once in my life, described myself as ‘Beyoncé’s more beautiful and talented twin.’ I don’t look anything like her!”
If only. That sort of effortless glamour and polish had eluded Mary her entire life.
Angie shrugged. “Just trying to approximate your babeliness in a way most people would understand.”
“What about the ‘more talented’ bit?” Mary gaped at her. “Don’t you remember that program last year? The one where I sang Christmas carols?”
A small wince creased Angie’s forehead. “Talent doesn’t have to mean singing. Which is a good thing, in your case. I think we attracted feral cats from miles around that night.”
Leaning over Angie, Mary wrestled the mouse from her boss’s grip and exited the form without saving. “I’ll fill one of these profiles out on my break. By myself.”
Angie’s lower lip poked out. “But I was enjoying myself.”
“All by myself.”
Satisfied that the profile-in-progress had disappeared forever, Mary settled back behind the circulation desk and gazed blankly at her computer screen.
Online dating. She’d never, ever pictured herself trying to find strangers to date via the internet. But heck, it wasn’t as if she were locating lots of good options in the flesh. And she couldn’t help but be touched by her friend’s efforts on her behalf.
Angie, who was rinsing an empty yogurt carton in the workroom sink, looked up when Mary spoke quietly. “I’m sorry I won’t let you help me with my profile. But thank you for caring enough to give me the kick in the pants I needed.”
“No problem.” Angie tossed the carton in the recycling container, emerged from the workroom, and took a seat beside Mary. “You’re a wonderful woman and a stellar employee. You deserve to get whatever your heart desires.”
The praise had her blinking hard for a moment. When she could see clearly again, she offered her boss a smile and went back to work, her heart warm through and through.
“Do you want to take your break?” Angie asked. “I’m done with mine, so I can clear out the rest of the inbox.”
A new e-mail from Mr. O’Connor had arrived. By this point, Mary was feeling somewhat proprietary about him. “I’ll take care of the last few messages before my break. I’ve been e-mailing back and forth with an elderly gentleman, and he’d probably prefer to keep dealing with the same person here.”
When she read his latest message, she had to blink a few times to make sure she’d understood it correctly. The personal part was brief, as she’d come to expect.
Info is below. THANK YOU.
But according to his birthdate, he was only thirty-three years old. Not elderly at all. So maybe he was agoraphobic? Or severely ill?
Poor man. Poor, poor man.
She reached into a nearby drawer, removed a card, and opened up a new library patron file with a click of her mouse. And a few minutes later, she wrote Mr. O’Connor—Miles—back:
Dear Mr. O’Connor: Your card number and password are below. I’ve also attached instructions for browsing and borrowing e-library books. If you have any difficulties, please feel free to e-mail me or any other staff member for help. We’re happy to assist.
His next e-mail arrived minutes later, when she was in the middle of checking out a pile of children’s books. She clicked on it as soon as she could, eager to read his response. Surely he’d be pleased by his new card?
Dear Ms. Higgs: You’re a goddess. Thank you.
She beamed at the short missive. This. This was why she’d originally wanted to teach, and why she now worked at the library. The desire to help her community, instilled in her by both her parents, had driven her for as long as she could remember.
And she knew it was selfish, but every time she assisted someone, that unwelcome restlessness deep in her bones seemed to ease. At least temporarily.
Dear Mr. O’Connor, she typed back. My pleasure. Write anytime. You already know the general library address, and mine is [email protected]. Take care.
“So, Mary…” Angie drummed her fingers against the circulation desk. “If you were picking new flooring, would you prefer a blond wood? Or something darker?”
Oh, for pity’s sake.
“I agreed to try online dating. So why not just ask me what hair color I prefer in men, instead of using some belabored metaphor?” Mary met her supervisor’s eyes and tried to remain firm. “And I’m filling out my own profile, remember?”
“We’ll see.” Angie offered her usual blinding, confident smile. “How do you feel about reddish or gingery tones in wood? Like, say, a nice cherry color?”
2
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Monday, January 16, 2017 9:52 a.m.
Dear Ms. Higgs:
Sorry to bug you. Can’t seem to figure out what to do. Help?
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Monday, January 16, 2017 11:05 a.m.
Dear Mr. O’Connor:
Please don’t apologize! I enjoy assisting people.
I’m so sorry to hear you’re having problems. What stage in the process is giving you trouble? Browsing? Checking out? Downloading to your e-reader?
If it’s any consolation, you’re not alone. We always get a flood of people after the holidays who need help with their new devices.
Sincerely,
Mary Higgs
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Tuesday, January 17, 2017 10:07 a.m.
Dear Ms. Higgs:
Sadly, mine’s not new. I’ve just never put books on it by myself before.
My stumbling block seems to be downloadin
g. Later today, I’ll e-mail you with more information. Right now, too frustrated to type more.
Thank you for your kindness. Please call me Miles.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Wednesday, January 18, 2017 8:55 a.m.
Dear Miles:
From the description you sent last night, I think I’ve figured out the problem. I’ve attached more detailed instructions below.
If they don’t help, is there anyone nearby who can help you? Or did you just move to the area?
Please feel free to call me Mary.
Sincerely,
The Librarian Formerly Known as Ms. Higgs
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 19, 2017 11:46 a.m.
Dear Mary:
Successful download achieved! Thank you.
New Nice County resident. And you’re all the help I need.
Quick question: Do you have any voice dictation software recs? Have you read any reviews? I hate hunting and pecking.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 19, 2017 4:03 p.m.
Dear Miles:
I looked up voice dictation software in our consumer magazines, and I’ve compiled a list of recommendations, along with their individual strengths and drawbacks, below.
They all have their flaws (apparently, if you write about putting your hand on someone’s waist, you may end up touching their “waste” instead, which is something else entirely), but they’re well-regarded in general. I hope they help you.
Have you enjoyed your e-books? Do you have a favorite so far?
Sincerely,
Mary
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Tuesday, January 24, 2017 11:46 a.m.
No favorite. Can you see which e-books I check out? If so, is there any way to make that private?
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Tuesday, January 24, 2017 12:01 p.m.
Dear Mr. O’Connor:
I can see your e-book checkouts, but only if I bring up your information in my computer. Which is something I would never do out of curiosity or for any other reason than professional necessity. I haven’t seen your account since I created your card. I promise.
I’m afraid I can’t make that information any more private than it is.
I apologize for asking something so personal. The e-books you choose to check out are your concern, and yours only.
Sincerely,
Mary Higgs
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 26, 2017 3:43 p.m.
Dear Mary:
I didn’t mean to imply you were invading my privacy. You were asking a normal and thoughtful question, and I didn’t know how to respond. The last couple of months have been difficult, and I’m out of practice when it comes to communicating with people.
My favorite book so far is Between a Rock and a Hard Place by Aron Ralston. I guess that seems like an odd choice, but I saw the movie about him and wanted to hear the whole story. Not just about how he injured himself, but his recovery too.
I’ve also been eyeing books about mountain climbers. Maybe Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer. What are your thoughts?
Warmly and with apologies,
Miles
P.S. The voice dictation software is extremely helpful. As you can probably tell from the length of this message. Thank you for your recommendations.
P.P.S. So far, I haven’t inadvertently handled anyone’s waste. But I have sent an e-mail with the word “whore” in it instead of “horror.” (I had to change it just now too. Apparently the software believes I’m very interested in whores. I hadn’t thought it knew me well enough to make that judgment, but…)
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 26, 2017 6:18 p.m.
Dear Miles:
Oh, I’m so glad I didn’t offend you! (Either with my reference to “waste” or by asking a personal question.)
I haven’t read Ralston’s book or seen the movie about him. I think I would find the latter upsetting. I’m not much for bloodshed, either in movies or in print. I’m more a fan of period dramas or anything about art, film, music, etc. Right now, I’m halfway through a biography of Matisse, and the illustrations are gorgeous.
I did read Into Thin Air for our adult book club, though, and I highly recommend it. It’s a gripping account, and if you find yourself interested in that particular incident on Everest, I can point you to other books on the topic. And it’s not gory at all. (I have to admit that I still had trouble reading it. But that’s not Krakauer’s fault.)
Sincerely,
Mary
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 26, 2017 6:27 p.m.
What kind of trouble?
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 26, 2017 6:33 p.m.
I found it hard to read about people putting themselves in such a dangerous situation, especially since I knew it would all go terribly wrong. (Or should I say “whore”ably wrong?)
Sincerely,
Mary
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 26, 2017 6:40 p.m.
Ah. I see what you mean.
How do you feel about people who put themselves in a position to be hurt by doing something stupid or dangerous? Do you still have sympathy for them? Or do they get what they deserve?
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 26, 2017 6:55 p.m.
Do I have sympathy for risk-takers who get injured? Well, of course. Taking risks doesn’t make someone a bad person, and it doesn’t ameliorate their suffering if they get hurt. If they kept repeating the same mistakes that led to their injury, and those mistakes were avoidable, well…maybe I’d get frustrated after a while. But I’m not a big believer in trying to change people. As far as I’m concerned, the only thing I can change is how I relate to them.
Why do you ask?
Oh, goodness. I’m at a friend’s wedding, and I should probably turn off my phone now.
Sincerely,
Mary
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 26, 2017 7:00 p.m.
Did you have to buy a bridesmaid’s dress? Over the years, I’ve heard more than a few complaints about those. Although I can’t imagine you looking anything less than lovely, no matter what you wore.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 26, 2017 7:08 p.m.
The bride is my coworker and a close friend—but she didn’t have bridesmaids. So no bridesmaid’s dress! Hallelujah!
P.S. That was a very nice compliment, but you have no idea how I look. I might shatter mirrors with a single glance.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 26, 2017 7:31 p.m.
The local newspaper took a picture of you last year. You were doing scientific experiments with kids during the library’s summer reading club kick-off event. It’s still on their website. Lovely, as I said.<
br />
Okay, that seems a little creepy, and I apologize. But to be fair, you know my address, phone number, birthday, etc., and I know next to nothing about you. It seemed equitable to let Google even things up a little bit.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 26, 2017 7:49 p.m.
Miles, I’m going to switch from my work account to my personal e-mail address. I hope that’s okay.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
Thursday, January 26, 2017 7:54 p.m.
Oh, goodness, I’d forgotten about that picture. Please keep in mind that I’m not photogenic. Like, at all.
More importantly: You Googled me? No fair! There are a million Miles O’Connors!
Are you a soccer player? Or an ice hockey defenseman? (No, wait, that’s Myles-with-a-y.) Or a TV star?
