The Librarian's Last Chance

“Goodnight,” Nadine called after a pair of departing students as they packed up their laptops and left the library for the final time this semester. They were the last two library users in the reference room, and their leaving only made Nadine more aware of how little time was left. There had been an hour until closing, then half an hour, and now just fifteen minutes, and still no sign of the floppy-haired, bow-tie-wearing English professor who had promised to come say goodbye. 

This semester had been marked by a series of lasts with Jeremy. The last first-day-of-classes coffee. The last exchange of memes on a snow day when they were both on campus but thwarted from being together by unplowed walkways.  The last personal email reminder to return his inter-library loans. The last time sharing a blanket at the faculty picnic, and the last time leaving early to grab dessert at the diner where students saw them together and giggled to each other in speculation. Tonight would be the last time they walked to the east parking lot together before he left for his dream job. If, that is, he showed up at all.

There were seven minutes left until midnight, and the reference room was empty when footsteps sounded in the hallway, and the tall lanky frame appeared from between the philosophy stacks. 

“No tie?” Nadine was disappointed. Not that he looked bad in gym clothes. Not that he could ever look bad. But if these were to be their final moments, she had hoped for one last swoon over his oh-so-appealing professorial duds. 

“If I’d known you’d miss it, I’d have put one on for you. But I didn’t see any students today,” Jeremy said with a shrug. “I just cleaned out the office and loaded up the car.” 

Nadine’s memory flashed with a vision of his office, blanketed by open books and stapled packets of paper, with various bobbleheads and other literary knick-knacks shoved into the bookcase wherever they might fit. Then she imagined it empty, completely impersonal and ready to be overtaken by the new professor who would arrive by August. She couldn’t think at all about the new office, on that other campus, an hour from here. Her brain seemed determined to fight the truth of what was about to happen until the last possible moment. She knew the new position was a perfect opportunity for him, but that didn’t change how it felt for her. 

“It’s really real now,” she said, infusing her voice with a casual levity she did not feel. “How are you doing?” 

“Okay, I think,” said Jeremy, running his fingers along the edge of her big wooden desk as he strode around it. He never could sit still. For six years, this was how he had behaved when he waited for her to answer his reference question, or shoot the breeze on a slow afternoon. He grinned at her. “Sorry, I know you hate when I pace.” He planted his legs on the floor and held his hands behind his back, but even then he still swayed, a bit like a young tree. Nadine had to laugh a bit. 

“Ah, there we go.” Jeremy nodded approvingly. “I’d hate to leave with the image of you scowling imprinted on my mind.” 

“I’m not scowling,” Nadine protested, because she hadn’t meant to be. “I was just worried you might not show up. You cut it close.” 

“Well, I needed to save the best for last, right?” Jeremy said. “I can’t say goodbye to you and then track down my favorite janitor, and my favorite dining hall worker. All things in their proper order, madam.” 

Of course he had favorites in every echelon of the campus. And for her to be the chief favorite was a bit of a soothing balm to the utter blow that was his impending departure. He had never said anything like that before. 

“Well.” Nadine glanced at the clock. “It looks like we’re about to turn into pumpkins.” As she spoke, the minute and hour hands came together at the top of the clock. She began turning out the desk lamps in the work area behind her, then she ducked into the hallway to extinguish the lights there. Security would handle the rest on their final walk-through of the night. All that was left for Nadine was to pick up her bag and head outside. 

“That outfit you have on is really making me wish I’d dressed the part,” Jeremy said, and Nadine shivered as she felt his eyes taking in her form.  She had worn this floral skirt and fitted pink blouse with him in mind, figuring that the man who could resist her in these clothes really didn’t see her as more than a close friend. For a moment, she wondered if this would be the big reveal of a long-standing crush. But then he wandered ahead of her toward the exit, and the tension in the air thinned. 

Outside, though, it thickened again as they meandered toward their cars, which were always parked within a few feet of each other despite neither of them really planning it that way. Nadine always felt a little thrill when she pulled into the lot before the evening shift and found that instinct had led her to a space just a few down from his parked car.  Who knew where she would park this summer? She half-expected her car to go on automatic pilot and carry her down the highway to the site of Jeremy’s new post. 

When they finally made it to her car, which was closer, Nadine stood and faced Jeremy, smiling up at the warm brown eyes, strong chin, and soft lips that had become so familiar over all these years. She knew what she and Jeremy would say to each other now. They’d call, they’d text, they’d meet for coffee. But Nadine had said goodbye to enough faculty buddies to know these were platitudes, not promises. She might mean them, but he wouldn’t, or he would in the moment, and would later forget. 

Instead, though, perhaps out of respect for her intelligence, which he had never once insulted before with a lie or a line, he didn’t say those things. Rather, he grinned down at her and gently pressed her nose with his finger. “I will miss this,” he said, smiling softly. 

“My nose?” Nadine asked, feeling giddy under his touch even as she felt devastated by the moment about to come. 

“Well, your whole face,” Jeremy said. “But I mean you, and me, and these nights, and the coffee, and the diner, and the whole experience.” 

“Me too,” Nadine managed to say, willing her emotions to hold themselves together for two more minutes so that she would not cry like the drunk, brokenhearted students that sometimes wandered past the library on weekend nights. 

“The end of an era,” Jeremy said, sighing as he gazed up at the night sky where, despite light pollution from the streetlamps, several stars were still visible. Then, after a long moment, he was all business. He stuck out a hand, and Nadine laughed at his faux formality. “It’s been wonderful,” he said simply. 

Nadine shook his hand. “It has,” she said simply, and she found she was completely unwilling to let go. She’d miss him. That was the only thought on her mind. When she let go, she’d have to start missing him, and she doubted if she would ever stop. 

Finally, he took his hand away, and she didn’t know what to do with hers other than to remove her keys from the little pocket of her purse and unlock the car door. Instantly, she regretted this choice, because it seemed to break whatever temporary spell was holding Jeremy in place. Before she could blink, his long legs had carried him several feet away and he was waving from a distance that already felt too far. 

Nadine tossed her purse onto the passenger seat, and missed, sending the whole thing handles-over-pockets onto the floor of the car. sprinkling the mat with change and chapstick. She knelt to pick it up, almost thankful for something to do, but she had only grabbed a couple of dimes when she stopped to question what she was doing. 

Why should she let Jeremy just disappear into his new future? If she was never going to see him again either way, shouldn’t she seize this last opportunity to find out with certainty what his feelings were? Getting back to her feet, she left her spilled bag for the moment and, car door still open, she turned in the direction Jeremy had gone. To her great surprise, he was jogging her way, urgency in every step, determination in his expression. 

What happened next was like a dream. They met under the dim light of a streetlamp, and she could see that he was no longer grinning goofily, or teasing, or pretending, or anything else he had done this evening. His eyes were bright, his cheeks were flushed. “I can’t go until I do this,” he breathed. And then, bending down to meet her as she surged upward on tiptoe, he framed her face with his long fingers and pulled her mouth to meet his. She dropped the dimes onto the asphalt and they rolled away. 

There were exactly four kisses, each a warm, soft press of their lips, communicating for the first time many things that Nadine thought she alone was feeling. 

“I’ll drive the hour every weekend,” she whispered when they parted. 

“I’ll keep you muted on video all day in my office,” responded Jeremy, bringing his arms down to her shoulders, pulling her whole body closer to his own. 

“Anything,” she murmured. “Anything to have this.” 

“I’ll call,” he said, kissing her cheek, her ear, her neck. “I’ll email. I’ll text.” The very words she’d feared moments ago were now lifelines. She’d still miss him. He still wouldn’t be here. But he’d be out there, thinking of her, and every separation would only be a temporary break in a long series of moments that meant everything. 

“Every single time, I’ll answer,” she breathed. “Always.” And after that, it was a long time before either of them had enough oxygen to speak again.