Chapter 1
There’s something about bookstores that make me feel like I could live a thousand different lives if I really wanted to. Lives that are separated by genre and placed on shelves. I consider books as predators and readers are their prey. They wait to devour a reader through their words, hoping not to collect even a speck of dust. I find myself intrigued by their stories, and I too, have fallen into this snare. One that keeps me confined to the walls of a library, cozied up in a corner late at night during the after-hours of my shift. I could live a thousand different lives through the pages of books that have been held and read by people with their own stories to tell.
The door opens with the slightest ring of bells that is attached to its handle.
“Good morning Guenevere, how are you doing on this gloomy morning?”
“I am doing great Mr. Bradford. I finished the book you recommended last night.”
“And what did you think of it? You can be honest.”
“Oh, it exceeded my expectations, I hardly could put it down. The ending was brilliant. I mean who would have thought a girl as driven as Elizabeth Bennet would fall in love with a man as stubborn as Mr. Darcy.”
“Mr. Darcy is a man you want to hate but can’t fully come to terms to.”
Pride and Prejudice. A new favorite of mine, all thanks to Mr. Bradford.
“Well Mr. Bradford we had a huge donation of books come in last night. They haven’t been sorted yet, so if you want first pick, they’re in the back. I can get them for you.”
“You know I wouldn’t dare turn down new books.”
Mr. Bradford is a regular. He comes in every Wednesday at 10 AM after cycling class with his wife. He comes in, with a stack of books to return under his arm, and ready to check out more. I swear he must have a list of hundreds of books that he wants to read. He’s been a member of Harper Library for 11 years and has never missed a due date. Or so I’m told.
I retrieve the books that is filled to the rim of a cardboard box. It’s almost too heavy for me to carry, but I manage to bring it to the front carefully. Mr. Bradford sorts through the books, reading the title and backs of each of them. He chooses a handful to check out, one particularly with three seagulls catches my eye. Tides Down the Hamptons. Interesting.
“You have a wonderful day Guenevere.”
“Thanks Mr. Bradford. See you next Wednesday.”
I moved to Manhattan a month ago. I live alone in a studio apartment with exposed brick that is older than my parents. When I graduated from college, I knew I wanted to live in the city, specifically, New York. I applied to a bunch of publishing houses, with a degree in creative writing. In the meantime, I applied to a few libraries, figuring I could at least score a job at one, and ended up at Harper. Harper Library is situated in the Upper East Side and is tucked away on a side street that looks like it could be out of a movie. I did not expect to love Harper as much as I do but being around books and customers who are hungry for a good read has opened up many meaningful conversations over a common interest: books.
I hear the jingle of the bells on the door. Another customer. A young man, probably in his early twenties walks through the door. He appears to be a little over six-foot and his blonde hair reminds me of a surfer’s, with flowy beach waves. His eyes immediately make contact with mine.
“Hey, sorry, is it okay if I hang out here? It looks like it’s about to downpour and I don’t want to get caught in it.”
“Only if you buy a library membership,” I say jokingly. Except there’s too long of a pause in between us. He doesn’t know what to say. I can tell. “I’m just kidding. Yes, you can stay, but you have to at least tell me your favorite book.”
A smile forms at the corner of his lips. “My favorite book? That’s getting a little personal don’t you think?”
“Okay well can you at least tell me your name”
“The name is Brooks. Brooks Walker.”
“It’s nice to meet you Brooks,” I extend my hand awkwardly. He laughs and shakes it.
“I’m Guenevere Davis.”
“Guenevere, it is a pleasure to meet you. What brings you to work at a bookstore as old as this?” His bright blue eyes gleam with interest. He holds eye contact which makes me blush. I look away quickly as my body has seemed to forget how to breathe. I take a breath.
“Harpers is magnificent. I honestly didn’t think I would like it as much as I do, but I started working here about a month ago when I moved to Manhattan.”
“So, you’re practically a tourist.”
I like his humor.
“More like an enthusiast. I have always dreamt of living in the city and when I got the job here, I knew it was a great opportunity. I don’t plan on working here for long though, I applied to Penguin Publishing and a bunch of other publishing houses around New York, but I’m waiting to hear back from them. By the grace of God though, I definitely would not be here without Him.”
“Wow, that’s incredible. I feel the same way though, about God working in my life.”
What. He’s a Christian?
“I moved here for grad school at NYU. I went out on a whim and applied even though I couldn’t afford it and I did not think my grades were good enough. But somehow, I got in and they even gave me a scholarship. I trusted in God and packed as much of my stuff from Colorado and booked a one-way flight to New York. And now here I am in New York City getting my master’s in counseling. But like you said, I wouldn’t be here without God”
I can’t believe He’s a Christian.
“That’s,” I’m at a loss of words. In a place like Manhattan, the Christian community seems sparce. “That’s impressive and amazing in every way. I mean pursuing your master’s at NYU. I applied for undergrad there and didn’t get in. I’m assuming you like the city then? If you applied to NYU.”
“I’ve wanted to live here for years now. I love the city and the passion that lives here. People come here to make their dreams become reality and I think it adds character to the atmosphere.”
“I couldn’t agree more. I fell in love with the city when I first visited in middle school. Ever since then, I hadn’t stopped talking about moving there to my parents.”
“What made you love books?”
“Well, I could talk for hours about why I love books, but I read because I get to be the main character in stories far different from my own, as cliché as that may sound.”
“No I get it. They take you to places that you can’t experience elsewhere.”
The rain is starting to fade out.
“What made you want to do counseling?”
“It’s a long story, but my parents divorced when I was starting high school and it left so many emotional scars. I couldn’t focus and started to fail school because there was so much going on back home with my parents. My mom suggested that I try out counseling. At first I thought it was useless, but it was one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t go.”
His face relaxes and his eyes soften.
“After seeing how much counseling has helped me, it opened up my eyes to the potential I could have counseling others. I started researching about counseling as a career and gained such a passion for it. And here I am getting my master’s in it.”
He seems so genuine.
“Wow. That’s quite a story and what better place to be than in the city.”
He looks out the window. “I think the rain finally let up.”
“I guess it’s your cue to leave then?”
“I would stay longer if I could,” he looks at his watch. 11:27 A.M. “But I have class at noon and still have to pick up lunch. Actually, that’s where I was headed before I stopped here.”
“That’s okay. It was great to meet you Brooks. Please, don’t be a stranger next time you are passing by. I’m usually here.”
He smiles. His teeth perfectly aligned.
“Thank you. It was great to meet you too. If I get stuck in the rain again, this will be the first place I stop.”
I watch as he heads toward the door. Is it weird that I don’t want him to leave? That I actually enjoyed this stranger’s company?
He turns around suddenly.
“Oh and Guenevere?”
“Yes?”
“My favorite book is by far the Great Gatsby.”
With that he leaves and the bells jingle on the door as it shuts. I can’t help but smile. The Great Gatsby. A classic.
