Chapter 34

Elana

Monday felt worse than normal. My eyes were swollen, my mind was completely numb, and my body was absolutely exhausted. I had pulled on some clothes for work and gone with a ponytail for my hair, not feeling like putting myself together. I shuffled into the place bleary-eyed, realizing that at least I had something to do where no one would bother me. I was still re-shelving the library, a task that was pretty huge, but I knew it would keep me occupied, and no matter how I was feeling, I could get it done.

My entire weekend was spent holed up in my house, watching sentimental movies and giving myself permission to be a weepy sap. Usually, I fought it hard, not wanting to be weak and pathetic. This weekend, though, I gave in, and I now felt like I had a hangover, even though I didn’t drink any alcohol. I wondered to myself if you could get a Ben & Jerry’s hangover. Because if you could, I might be dying of one at that moment. I looked up at the other employees behind the desk and made a beeline for the stacks, not wanting to admit I had done nothing that weekend but be a pathetic single cat lady. I was pretty sure at one point, I had an entire conversation with one of my cats. It was mostly one-sided.

Originally, before the meltdown, I had told myself that I was going to try to get out and meet people. I had spent a lot of time by myself, too shy and too depressed to even attempt to make friends, much less meet a man on my own. After going through the memory box, I had promised myself to do better, to stop being chased down by the ghosts of my past. However, in the end, I hadn’t felt ready. I was scared, weak really, and I found myself giving into the grief of all of it, crying over silly movies, and eating my weight in ice cream and Chinese food. I had barely made it to my mother’s for Sunday dinner, eating and then immediately leaving, not wanting to even hear about the football game because it made me think of Ollie.

I kept telling myself it was the right choice, that if I wasn’t ready, I shouldn’t force myself into it. I felt like that was what Ollie did, force himself into trying to have a future with me. He was stuck in Madison, and I think he realized it was harder than he thought it would be. So, he forced himself to put the past behind him and start a relationship. In the end, though, he wasn’t ready, and it only ended up with hurt and anger. I didn’t want to do to someone what Ollie was doing to me. I didn’t want to date someone as a replacement. It just wasn’t fair.

I put my things down in the employee lockers and headed out onto the floor. I snuck behind everyone and grabbed a stack of the books I was working on, realizing that no one even noticed that I was there. They were all too busy talking about what they did over the weekend with their friends and significant others. I wouldn’t have anything to talk about with them anyway, even if I did have friends. This saved me the trouble of awkward conversations. I walked over to the stacks and down the rows, slowing down as I caught sight of a slip of colored paper sticking out of a book on the shelf I was passing. Out of habit, I reached up and grabbed it, figuring it could go into the recycling bin with the rest of the lost bookmarks.

I stopped and set the books down on the ladder I would be using that day, tossing the paper on top of them and looking up at my next shelf. I reached for the top book but stopped, the colorful and artsy text on the piece of paper catching my eye. I picked it up and unfolded it, reading the words to myself. It seemed like one of those general affirmation texts meant for whoever might find it in the book next. It was a cute idea, but annoying because it made my job harder. At the same time, though, the text was pretty specific to be for just a general audience. I could see how it might work, but I figured the culprit would have gone for something a bit more generic. Who was I to judge art, though? I was just a librarian who would rather people not leave happy messages for others in my books.

I put the paper down and climbed the ladder, putting the books on the shelf after wiping it off with my towel. I stood there for a second, staring at the book titles in front of me. Love in The Time of Cholera stared me in the face, making my mind try to slip away. I shook my head and looked back down at the paper on the ladder beneath, furrowing my eyebrows. I climbed down and picked it back up.

“When you smile, your eyes are like a clear sky on a sunny day,” I read aloud.

Strange. It seemed so specific, like it was written specifically for someone. Great, in the mood I was in, I ended up finding some love letter written to a girl who obviously didn’t appreciate romantic gestures, while I’m over here begging for a man to treat me like a queen. It was like the universe was specifically trying to screw with me. I sighed and folded the note, shoving it into my pocket and picking up my books and stepladder. I walked toward the next shelf, stopping at the sight of another piece of paper. I walked up and pulled it out of the book, standing there and staring down at the note. Before I could fully read it, another note caught my eye, then another, and another. I looked up and down the aisle, trying to make sure that I wasn’t being tricked or watched.

I collected all the pieces of papers and walked to the back of the stacks, sitting down on the stepladder. I opened all the pages and piled them on top of each other. I took a deep breath, knowing that this was more than strange, especially since it was right in the section I would be working. I tried not to think too much of it and started to read them aloud.

“A dry white wine goes best with a dry sense of humor.”

I looked up, thinking about the night when Ollie was my servant and how I had been able to throw caution to the wind because of all the white wine I drank. Of course, on top of that, a dry sense of humor was pretty much my calling card, and Ollie had been the only guy to ever get or appreciate my sense of humor. Still, it wasn’t conclusive enough to make me think that Ollie had planted these in the books. There were plenty of people that not only liked white wine, but were sarcastic. At least, that was what I told myself. I put that one to the back and moved on to the next one.

“When you laugh, your nose scrunches up in the most adorable way.”

Okay, that was like a signature move. Well, one I couldn’t really help it, but my mom used to tell me it was the most adorable attribute about me when I was a child. I pulled my hand up and rubbed my nose, looking up and pulling the notes to my chest as someone walked past the entryway to the stacks I was sitting down in. When they passed, I looked back down, shaking my head at how silly I was being about the whole thing. Of course, these weren’t about me, but at least for a couple of minutes, I could dream. I flipped to the next sheet and read it, almost dropping it to the floor.

“You’re terrible at pool,” I read out loud, confused. “But you’re wonderful at kissing.”

Okay, this was really crazy. There was no way this could be Ollie, right? My mind shifted back to that night after my mom’s house when we stopped off at the pool hall and drank a pitcher of beer. I really had been absolutely terrible at pool, but on the bright side, Ollie had gotten really close, showing me exactly how to move the stick. I swore I hadn’t laughed that much in one day for a very long time. I sighed, a smile trying to force its way over my lips, realizing there was a really good chance these were for me. When I read the last one, though, there was no question about it.

“I bow to your superior putt-putt skills.”

When I read this one, I burst into laughter, thinking about how I had owned Ollie during our putt-putt championship game, where he lost the game, and I won a servant. That was one of the best wagers I had ever made. These notes were definitely written for me. Either Ollie had gone out of his way to do this, or there was a serious stalker in my life. I giggled to myself, wondering if the stalker was single, because if so, he seemed like a catch.

I got up and picked up the books, deciding it was time to get on my game and get these shelves taken care of. I could feel my heart swelling in my chest, thinking about the words printed on the pieces of paper stuffed in my pocket. I thought this day was going to be the worst of all of them, but that simple act just made me feel so much better. Could these messages really be from Ollie? I mean, he was definitely a sweet, romantic guy, but how would he have pulled it off without me knowing? I wanted to believe so badly that it was Ollie, that he was reaching out to me. I wanted to think that someone would do something that sweet and romantic for me, but there was still a small part of me that worried it was some kind of cruel, practical joke.

Was Ollie trying to show me that I was special to him? That question and others sped through my mind for the entire day. I couldn’t stop thinking about Ollie coming in here and hiding these notes, not even sure that I would be the one that found them. The thoughts alone got me through the rest of my day.

When the end of the day came, I smiled at the other employees, telling them to have a good night. They looked at me strangely at first and then smiled, telling me the same. I couldn’t imagine that with the events of the day, I would have anything other than a good night now. I walked out to the bus stop and caught the bus, sitting in the back and staring down at the notes I was now clutching in my hand. I was definitely feeling a lot better going home than I was when I came into work.

When I got home, I walked to the mailbox and pulled out the mail. I groaned at the bills, like always, before stopping on a strange-looking envelope. There was no address, no postage, just my name written across the front in the same font that the notes were written in. I smiled and pulled the letter to my chest. It had to be from Ollie. I walked into the house with a little bit more pep in my step and shut the door behind me. This had turned into a great day.