Today's Reading
When Carrie Rushton, the president of the Friends, had suggested that they host a writer in residence for the winter months in Briar Creek, no one had expected an author of Helen's caliber to apply. Wanting to launch what they hoped would be an annual program, the Friends naturally jumped at the opportunity to have Helen as their inaugural writer. It was particularly perfect because Helen lived in Fairfield, just down the shoreline from Briar Creek, which basically made her a local author.
The post was fairly low-maintenance for Helen. She spent every morning in the library, writing in one of the glassed-in study rooms, where anyone could watch her at work. It was a bit like a fishbowl, and Lindsey was initially surprised that Helen, who seemed very private, was okay with it. Having watched her, Lindsey had noted that Helen did as much pacing as she did writing, and she spent long stretches of time staring off into space. It appeared the little room was fine for the pacing and the staring and the occasional flurry of typing on her laptop.
In addition to her in-house writing time, Helen was scheduled to do a short program every week where she talked about an aspect of writing, such as research, plotting or editing. Whatever Helen was in the mood to discuss would be the topic of the day. Because space was limited, patrons had registered for the first one, which was scheduled for Friday afternoon, in advance. It was fully booked—with a wait list—a half hour after registration had opened. Carrie had been thrilled and Lindsey was, too.
The books Paula pushed toward Helen didn't look familiar, and Lindsey studied the spines, which revealed them to be an assortment of information science technical manuals that Lindsey hadn't seen since getting her master's degree. Being academic resources, they definitely weren't items the public library owned, so Lindsey assumed that Helen had ordered them through their interlibrary loan service. Interesting.
"Thank you, Paula." Helen scooped up the books and turned, almost bumping into Lindsey.
"Doing a little light reading?" Lindsey asked. Helen didn't smile. She clutched the pile close to her chest as if she was trying to hide them. Was Helen concerned that Lindsey was judging her? Lindsey felt the need to explain. "It was a joke, you know, because the books are so big?"
Helen lowered her sunglasses over her eyes as if they were a shield. "Yes, I gathered that was the gist of your witty observation."
"Oh, good." Lindsey suddenly felt incredibly awkward and uncomfortable in her own skin. She didn't want to leave the conversation like this. "I'm happy to see you using our services. Is there anything else we can help you with?"
Helen lifted her sunglasses and stared at Lindsey. "That depends. Are you a skilled laborer as well as a librarian? I could use some tile work done in the bathroom of my cottage."
"Uh...no." Lindsey shook her head.
"That's a shame." Helen lowered her sunglasses again.
Given her deadpan demeanor, Lindsey had to assume that Helen was joking. There was no way she could be this frosty for real, could she? Nah.
"We do maintain a list of local handypersons in our files if you need some recommendations," Lindsey offered.
"I'll keep that in mind." Helen made a noise that sounded like an impressed humph.
Lindsey would take it as a win. Probably, she should let Helen get on with her day. She certainly didn't want to press her luck with the acerbic writer, but it was the holidays and Helen was new here, and Lindsey didn't want her to feel lonely.
"I don't know if you're interested, but—"
"I'm not," Helen interrupted her but Lindsey continued undaunted.
"We have a crafternoon group that meets every Thursday," Lindsey forged on. Helen sighed impatiently. "We have a book discussion, share lunch, and do a craft." She could see Paula making a slashing motion across her throat behind Helen's back. Lindsey ignored her. "We're meeting soon, and you're welcome to join us if you'd like."
Helen stood still for a moment as if considering. Then she tipped her head to the side and said, "That is a very generous offer considering I've never given you any indication that I would be even remotely interested in anything like that. So thank you, but no."
With that, Helen strode out the door without a backward glance.
"Lindsey, what were you thinking?" Paula hissed. "That woman is not crafternoon material."
"You don't know that," Lindsey said. "She could be aloof because she's shy."
"No." Paula shook her head. "She is not shy. She is antisocial, there's a difference."
...
