She came around the desk and deposited her purse on the open office chair beside him. “Oh, you’re a peach. You left the returns for me!”
“Of course,” Felix said with a smile. “Though before you get started, I have a question for you.”
“Sure thing.” She cocked her hip and rested her hand on it, the other hand draped on a cart.
“Just between us?”
“Ooh, that sounds juicy.”
Felix exhaled a breathy laugh. “It’s not, really. Just work stuff.”
“Everything okay, kiddo?”
At thirty-six and on his second career, Felix was hardly a “kiddo,” but Peggy’s mom energy was powerful enough to make the nickname feel completely natural. And since Felix had barely seen his own mother in recent years, he didn’t really mind it.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Thank you for asking.”
“Well, I’m great at keeping secrets, so lay it on me.” Peggy scooped her hand toward herself in an encouraging gesture.
“What do you think about Warren’s insistence on making the library more, as he puts it, ‘youth-friendly’ with this game night?”
Peggy regarded him for a moment before answering. “It’s a good idea. Emma’s up to her eyeballs with all the kids’ programming, and the retired crowd keeps our romance, mysteries, and thrillers on constant rotation. But we’ve lost a lot of the young folks without kids. We used to get students from the community college who would stick with us after graduation. A few years back, the college completely renovated their bookstore and added a huge study space. And they have a café. A café, Felix. We can’t compete with that, so why not try something new and different? Something the college doesn’t offer.”
“I can see the logic in that.”
“And then there’s the whole budget thing to consider,” Peggy said with a sigh.
That got Felix’s attention. “What budget thing?”
“Oh, did I say something about the library’s budget?”
He laughed, even though his pulse spiked with anxiety. “What was that about keeping secrets?”
“This isn’t a secret.” Peggy set her fists on her hips defiantly. “Not really. Warren just hasn’t made any staff-wide announcements about it yet. It’s all public information. On the Butler County website.” She nodded toward the computer monitor in front of him with a meaningful look on her face.
“I see,” he said deliberately. “Well, if Warren hasn’t addressed it, I certainly won’t ask you anything more about it.”
Before she could respond, the front door opened. And, speak of the devil, Warren stepped inside. Peggy caught Felix’s eye and subtly shook her head. Felix winked to indicate he understood. He was on his own to research the county’s budget, and that would have to wait.
“Good morning, Felix, Peggy,” their boss said, smoothing his hand over his tie. Warren was in his early sixties or so, a white man with impeccably gelled gray hair and a work wardrobe that consisted of nothing but white shirts, black trousers, and solid-colored ties. “How was last night’s event? Good turnout?”
“Not exactly,” Felix admitted as Peggy slipped away with one of the returns carts. “Do you have some time this morning, Warren? I was hoping to talk to you about some game night ideas from a new volunteer.”
Jo was seated at the front desk of White Hills Senior Living and Care Center with a notebook perched on her knees and her glasses sliding down her nose. She usually preferred wearing contacts at work, but some days her eyeballs needed the break. She pushed her glasses back into place, scribbled the words “find an optometrist” in the margins of her notes, and then went back to jotting down the running commentary of the receptionist, Leo.
As a nurse in the skilled care wing of the facility, Jo would only need to cover the front desk if there was a staffing emergency. But her floor lead, Lucille, believed in a thorough training schedule. Nothing wrong with being prepared, of course, but Jo would rather be getting to know the elderly residents in her charge. Two and a half weeks into the job and she still hadn’t learned all their names.
Leo, a bespectacled, sandy-haired white man with a smattering of freckles, was describing the check-in/check-out system when the front door opened, bringing with it a blast of damp springtime air.
“Mr. Ortiz, good morning!” he greeted the forty-something Latino man who walked in.
“Hey, Leo. Checking out my dad for his oncologist appointment,” Mr. Ortiz said.
“Good timing!” Leo crowed. He tended to speak in all exclamation points with residents and their families. Thankfully, he wasn’t like that with co-workers or Jo might have screamed five minutes into training. “I’m showing our newest nurse here how checkouts work! Would you mind if I used you and Mr. Ortiz Sr. as an example?”
“Fine by me.”
Jo took notes while Leo paged a nurse, and Mr. Ortiz entered everything into a tablet bolted to the waist-high counter. While they waited for the elder Mr. Ortiz, they made polite small talk about the weather. There was a classic Midwestern rainstorm expected that afternoon, same as the last five days. Jo really needed to buy an umbrella.
It wasn’t long before Vanessa, one of Jo’s skilled nursing co-workers, wheeled Mr. Ortiz (Sr.) into the lobby. Vanessa was a pretty, tanned white woman in her twenties wearing maroon scrubs and bright white sneakers laced with black-and-yellow shoelaces. Her long, dusty blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail that swayed behind her like a pendulum, and her bangs were expertly curled and swept to the side. With a peppy greeting, she handed off the wheelchair to Mr. Ortiz (Jr.) and pushed the automatic door button. Then she, Jo, and Leo all stood around waving goodbye as father and son left.
As soon as they were out of sight, Vanessa leaned heavily on the front desk. “Ugh, I need caffeine. You wanna grab a coffee, Jo?”
“Oh, um… I don’t know if I’m done yet.” Jo turned to Leo.
“That was the last thing I had for now,” he said. “They’ll be back around one, so come by then, and I can show you how we do check-ins.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.” Jo stood and addressed Vanessa. “I’ll get coffee with you. Is there a Starbucks nearby or something?”
Vanessa clicked her tongue off the roof of her mouth. “Aw, California, you’re cute. I was talking about the Keurig in the break room.”
Jo laughed at herself, hoping to save face in front of her new co-workers. “Oh, well. That makes more sense, since I haven’t actually seen a Starbucks anywhere. But my answer hasn’t changed! Let’s do it.”
Vanessa led Jo to the break room, stopping to say hello to the residents they passed and introducing them to Jo. “She’s from California,” Vanessa said to every single one, with a teasing look at Jo each time.
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Jo asked as they entered the stale-coffee-scented solace of the break room.
