Page 84 of Checking Out the Librarian

By the end of story time, he was hiding, or rather, shelving, in the holds section. He did have work to do. Another family found him, a woman with a baby on her hip and a boy hopping excitedly like the rabbit in the book Lily had read. “Are you Librarian Jonathan?”

“I am.” Clearly, he was the world’s most patient librarian. Most friendly. Most fun. Also, most bewildered and most suspicious.

“Kaden, what do we say?”

“Happy Burpday!” Then he opened his mouth wide enough to show Jonathan several molars covered in an orange crust which Jonathan, to his horror, recognized as partially masticated cheddar snack crackers. Whether they had once been goldfish or cheddar bunnies depended on the family’s views of processed food.

The boy belched. Loudly.

It smelled like fermented cheese.

“Kaden! I’m so sorry, so sorry.”

“Oh, I perfectly understand. Don’t worry. Crackers can do that.” He looked at the grinning boy and extended the hardback book he’d been about to shelve. “Young Kaden, Master of the Epic Burp, I would like to make you a Knight of the Illustrious Golden Belch Society. Do you accept this honor?”

He was definitely in the loopy zone and there was no escape. His gut told him that somehow Connor was behind this. There better be answers before tonight’s softball game, but until then, he tapped Kaden lightly on his right shoulder with the spine of the book, then his left, and back a third time to his right.

“You are now initiated into the Society of the Loud Readers. It is an ancient order of pages pledged to conquer three books a day, and then and only then, to make loud noises.”

On the other side of the shelf, Lily made an extraordinary wheezing sound that still wasn’t as loud as the one that had emerged from this boy’s mouth, then Jonathan heard her feet move off at a pace he knew was not allowed during normal library operations.

“Can you uphold our chivalric traditions, Sir Kaden?”

“Ye-e-e-s.” His eyes were huge and excited.

“Then return next week and let me know how you do.” Jonathan leaned across the book cart and lowered his voice. “Until then, burp in secret. It is the way.”

Kaden’s mother had her hand over her mouth, nodding at Jonathan and jiggling the baby. She guided her son away and Jonathan checked his cardigan for stray neon orange crackers flecks.

None. He’d escaped unscathed from his encounter with Young Sir Kaden.

Lily trotted around the end of the shelf. “You need to go outside and check the drop box. Now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Go outside and check the drop box. I’ll finish this.”

As he pushed through the double doors, he felt bouncy, almost like when he’d practiced jumps on a trampoline. In a few hours, he’d see Connor at the softball game.

Above the book slot, someone had taped a sign that featured a sticker of Ribby wearing a shiny cone-shaped party hat, mouth open and tongue lolling out in a perfect Ribby smile. Next to Ribby, large letters said: Drop Box works, but Librarian Jonathan’s Birthday is today. If you have time, go inside and wish him a Happy Birthday. He likes Dad jokes!

Even if the photo of Ribby hadn’t been included, Jonathan would have known the culprit. No wonder people had streamed in to find him, pushed by a grinning dog and pulled by the thought of a captive audience.

After he snapped a photo of the sign, professionalism compelled him to remove it. He made sure the tape didn’t rip the edges of the paper.

Jonathan waited until his lunch break to text. He imagined Connor vibrating with curiosity about the success or failure of his scheme, checking his texts, and every time he found nothing from Jonathan, he’d have to pet Ribby and mutter things about patience or dog ears or strikes and balls. That would be the situation at the house on Harris Street.

He nibbled a piece of salami. Connor knew his lunch was at one, so Jonathan decided to wait until at least eight or nine minutes after the hour before he texted.

A morning’s worth of Dad-jokes wasn’t going to undo a lifetime of being himself.

Connor had packed Jonathan’s lunch today, and given him separate containers of cherry tomatoes, Genoa salami slices, and cubes of sharp cheddar, as well as a sliced apple and another scone slathered in jam and tightly wrapped to prevent drips.

While eating his second slice of salami, the pattern of food in front of him clicked. The goofball had packed him a gourmet, homemade Lunchables. And he was eating it and it was delicious. He was going to thank Connor for this lunch and the whole excessive day by bending him over the foot of the bed. Not the back of the couch, they’d learned their lesson about the couch.

It was only four minutes after the hour. He crunched an apple slice.

He should wait longer, but he knew that one hundred percent of the “Am I The Asshole” commenters would say making the man who had packed him a cute baby lunch wait for a thank you was an asshole move.