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American Contemporary Inspirational

I first saw him on the campus of a university in Florida. He was drop dead gorgeous with dark hair and beautiful eyes and he had a long ponytail and was wearing cologne. He was the librarian. When I checked my books out, I said hi and gave him my best smile. His shoulders were broad and he wore a tight red short-sleeved shirt that was open at the throat revealing some chest hair. '"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah," I said, I racked my brain trying to think of a way to extend the conversation and asked, "Are you a student here?"

"Yes. This is my last semester. What about you? he asked setting my books in front of me.

"I'm in my second year." He smiled and asked, "What's your major?"

"Business Administration. I'm practical." I said grinning. "What's yours?"

"Poli-Sci."

I glanced behind me and saw a line had formed---all women. No surprise there. 

"Take care," he said turning his attention to the next person in line.

"You too." I smiled and left, my mind racing. He was just my type. I was walking on air. I would have to start going to the library more often. 

But the next time I went in, I was disappointed to see that he was not there. Instead, there was a the epitome of the stereotypical librarian--a woman wearing thick, heavy rimmed glasses, her hair in a bun. Possibly off for the evening, I thought. "So what happened to ponytail guy?" I asked her as I checked my books out.

"He's gone." she said, then added "Off for the summer semester, I think."

"Oh," I said as I picked up my books and left. So that's that. Just my luck. As quickly as my spirits had soared, so too they sank.

But as it turned out, hope springs eternal. A few weeks later on a glorious sunny afternoon in June, I walked into the main branch of the public library and much to my surprise saw him standing there behind the counter in the front of the library. Not wanting him to see me, I ducked behind some bookshelves and made my way over to the fiction section and stood there, a bit discombobulated at my good luck. I considered the possibility that he had a girlfriend, or even a wife. I couldn't help but think that I was meant to run into him again. Was it my imagination or had there been a mutual attraction that first night? Probably not, I thought. He was probably nice to all the students...especially the women. It wasn't just his movie star good looks that I found so appealing. He had charisma. I saw him as unconventional wearing a long ponytail instead of a more clean cut look that you might expect from someone working in a library. I saw him as someone who marched to the beat of his own drummer, and who colored outside of the box. I liked that.

I stood there trying to read the inside cover of a book I wanted to read, when I heard him say, "I thought it was you," he said grinning. For some reason, I looked down at his feet. Ponytail guy was wearing sandals and socks...socks with what looked like little guitars on them. Something else I liked about him. "Hi," I said happily, "What a small world," I exclaimed.

"How's it going?" he asked looking at me intently. "My name's Mike, he said, extending his hand.

"Erica," I said, shaking his hand. "I see you've got your work cut out for you." I said looking at the cart load of books he was pushing." 

"When I finish up with these, I'm off. Wanna get some coffee?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"I get off at noon. I'll meet you out front." he told me.

"Okay. See you then." I turned and headed for the ladies room. I checked my watch. I had twenty minutes to kill. I went into the ladies room, ran a comb through my hair and put some lip gloss on. Now I would have a chance to sit down and talk to him. I made my way to the back of the library, sat down in a chair and began reading one of the paperbacks I'd picked out. At five of twelve I picked up my books and headed for the counter to check them out. Then I walked outside and sat down on a bench. A few minutes later I watched as his long legs walked towards me in a pair of white jeans. "Hi." he said, smiling, "Are you hungry?" he asked. 

"Not really," I said. 

"There's a coffee shop up the street...do you mind walking?"

"Not at all," I said cheerfully.  

When we got to the coffee shop, we sat down at a table by the window. He ordered a club sandwich and a coffee for himself and one for me. "So how long have you been working at the library?" I asked curiously.

"For a few years. My mother works for the county so I had a bit of a leg up," he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "What about you---do you work?" he asked.

"Yes, part-time in a law office doing clerical work." The conversation moved along at a nice, easy clip. Turns out there was more to Mike than meets the eye. He told me he was a Type 1 Diabetic---insulin dependent since the age of eight. "My mother and brother were both Type 1 Diabetics. I know how damaging it can be to the body---the eyes, the kidneys, all those needle pricks to the fingers testing their blood sugar." I said knowingly.

"My mother took it in stride," I paused choosing my words carefully, "but I think my brother had a lot of anger about being dealt that hand." Mike nodded.

"At one time, I felt that way. I started seeing a counselor--another diabetic who'd been there and knew where I was coming from. He helped me a lot. He talked about how important a person's attitude is in coping with the disease. After a lot of talking and some resistance on my part, I decided that instead of looking at it as if I had a cross to bear, I took the mindset that if I took good care of myself, ate the right foods, watched my weight and exercised---I lift weights and do a lot of running---I was able to manage it without feeling as though I had no control over the disease, and that I controlled it rather than feeling like it controlled me. For me, this made a huge difference." he said thoughtfully. 

"I couldn't agree with you more. I only wish that my brother had gotten a better handle on it. Attitude is everything." I said emphatically.

"If you think it would help, I could talk to him," he offered politely. 

"I told him a long time ago that talking to other diabetics would be something that could help him. Unfortunately, I don't think he's done much of that in his lifetime." I said, matter-of-factly. Mike's coffee cup was empty. As if she'd read my mind, the waitress, a skinny, pretty, twentysomething with short, copper colored hair eagerly approached us and asked if we wanted more coffee, her eyes fixed on Mike. "Yes," he said. She seemed to be a bit discombobulated. I imagined that the number of men with as much charisma as Mike had were few and far between there. 

"I'll have another cup," I said. She poured more coffee into my cup. 

"Want some lunch?" he asked glancing over at me.

"No thanks. I had a big breakfast."

After she left, I learned that, like me, he lived in an apartment not far from the campus and that he, too, had a cat. I laughed when he told me he was training it to pee in the toilet. "I emptied the water in the bowl and filled it with kitty litter," he said sounding amused. "That's funny," I said, feeling a little embarrassed. He told me he played the guitar. The more he talked the more I liked him. "How long have you been playing?"

"Since I was thirteen."

"Wow---you must be good. I always wanted to play a musical instrument." I told him.

"It's not too late," he said, then continued, "It took some doing, but I got a band together and started jamming a few years ago. Every now and then, kids from the local schools come to the library to listen to me play. Some of the parents asked me if I would be interested in playing at house parties and even a wedding reception." 

"That's great." I said taking a sip of my coffee.

"I've been putting in a lot of extra hours at the library since I quit working at the campus library. Sometimes I read stories to a group of kids and play some tunes on the guitar. I was chosen as librarian of the month this month." he told me, looking pleased.

"They must really appreciate you," I said. "No wonder. You keep it interesting."

"Tomorrow night their giving a dinner party for me at a local restaurant. Would you like to join me?" he asked.

"I would love to," I said smiling broadly. 

"Thanks," he said appreciatively. He looked at his watch. "I promised a friend of mine I'd give him a hand putting brakes on his car." 

"You really are a jack of all trades." I said, grinning.

  "I'll take the check," he said to the waitress who was standing nearby. A few minutes later, when we stepped outside, sunshine spilled onto the sidewalk and into my heart. I was ecstatic. "Where's your car?" he asked. 

"On a side street not far from the library," I told him. He walked me to my car, took my phone number and said he would call me tomorrow for directions to my apartment. "I've enjoyed talking to you," he said, adding, "Looking forward to tomorrow night. It should be a nice time."

"Likewise," I said looking up at him, his eyes meeting mine. 

"See ya," he said grinning.

I started the ignition and instead of going home, I decided to go shopping to look for a new dress to wear for this special occasion. I was a lucky woman, I thought as I headed towards a boutique where I often shopped. I was walking on air. Two hours later, I walked out of the store, shopping bag in hand with a great dress in it. I'd decided on a little black dress that I really liked. Starved, I went home and made a steak and some salad. It was already dinnertime. After that, I fed the cat, turned the tv on, sat down on the couch and fell asleep shortly thereafter.

The next night he picked me up at seven o'clock. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt and a pale yellow tie and looked spectacular. 

"You look nice," he said smiling at her as he opened the car door.

"So do you," she said appreciatively.  

To her surprise, the restaurant they were going to was one of her favorites and one she'd been to more than a few times before, except tonight there were many brightly colored balloons everywhere and a crowd of people talking and laughing.  She sat there next to Mike sipping white wine as a distinguished looking older man with white hair stood and gave him a celebratory toast. "I know I speak for all of us when I say how very much we appreciate Mike and all of his hard work, dedication, kindness, generous spirit and his willingness to go the extra mile at the library. On behalf of the staff, It's my pleasure to thank you, Mike, for giving so much of yourself to making our library something truly special. We couldn't do it without you." Everyone lifted their glasses and said, "Here, here!" 

"Come on up here, Mike," he said gesturing to him.

A smiling Mike made his way to the podium as the crowd cheered and whistled. 

"Hi. Thank you, Hal for your kind words. I want to thank everyone for coming out tonight. Working at the library has been such a great experience for me in so many ways. I can't tell you how much it means to me to be honored in this way. I have made so many good friends at the library and it feels like a second home to me. Without the help and support of my co-workers, I couldn't have done it. I look forward to much more of the same in the days to come. It's been my privilege to serve the community, play guitar, read some great books, and entertain all those who've given me so much in return. Thank you. Now, let's eat."

Everyone clapped loudly in appreciation for someone who I saw as an exceptional person, someone special--- and someone who I hoped I would share many happy days with. I was proud to know him. 

April 22, 2022 19:04

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3 comments

Carmen Lee
22:32 Apr 28, 2022

This story is relatable to most people I believe! There's probably a million girls or even guys who have had the same thoughts as Erica's run through their heads. So well done in capturing accurate feelings. It's important to be able to empathize with the main character. My only critique is that Mike seems too perfect! And maybe he's meant to be, but I'd like to believe most people have flaws, so that I'm allowed to have them too. You did mention that he went through an angry period. So that was a start, but maybe even just mentioning that...

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Cassie Landrum
16:50 Apr 28, 2022

Thanks for sharing your story, Cara! Mike sounds like an awesome guy. I'd like to share a couple things with you that I've learned which may help you along your writing journey. 1) Watch for passive voice usage. Anywhere you see "was", "were", "had"... see if there's another way to form the sentence that allows the reader to experience what is happening rather than read about what already happened. For example... "He was drop dead gorgeous with dark hair and beautiful eyes and he had a long ponytail and was wearing cologne." You could writ...

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Cara Fidler
19:44 Apr 28, 2022

Thanks for reading my story and for your input.

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