Page 37 of Two’s A Charm

MAGIC DELAYED IS MAGIC DENIED

Effie

Effie sipped her terrible library-brewed coffee, grimacing.

Today, no amount of magical tweaking could transform the black concoction that came out of the machine into something drinkable.

Sometimes she wondered if she was actually dealing with some sort of dark magic cauldron that had just been hexed into looking like a coffee machine.

But she’d already finished the coffee she’d brought from home, and the one she’d ordered from The Winged Monkey, and she couldn’t in all good conscience splurge on a second takeaway coffee for the day.

Not even if she’d brought her lunch for a full sixty days straight, which was a personal record.

She’d spent the morning setting up the Weeded Book Sale, which had involved dragging out shelves and tables for display, and sorting out pricing and payments.

The initial goal had been an honour system where people grabbed a book and popped whatever amount they thought appropriate in the change tin, but said tin had quickly got clogged up with chewing gum and CVS receipts.

After she’d cleaned it out for the third time, she printed off a sign telling people to bring their books and payments to the circulation desk.

There’d also been the small matter of putting together a short video about the sale to go on the library’s social media accounts.

This had been by far the most challenging part of the whole ordeal, and had made Effie realize that perhaps she wasn’t the patient, even-tempered person she considered herself to be.

Who knew that it took a full hour to film a ten-second video and close to that again to actually get the video cross-posted to everywhere it needed to go?

And that no matter how articulate you considered yourself, it was a physical impossibility to speak into the camera without flubbing a key detail.

And then there was the choreography, but the less said about that, the better.

Oddly enough, Madame Destinée had warned that her day would involve dances with wolves (and shelves) .

The woman’s crystal ball certainly had a wit to it, thought Effie drily, as she handed a patron change for their used books and popped the money in the lockbox she kept behind her desk.

The sale was going surprisingly well – they’d sold over a hundred books, which meant extra funds to help support the summer programs and the food pantry.

‘It’s because of your video,’ Kirsty had said, when she’d come in with Bobby to return the telescope.

Effie still wasn’t used to seeing them together.

It went against the narrative she’d concocted for Bobby, where he and Bonnie finally admitted their feelings for one another. Not that Effie had romance on the mind.

‘What do you mean?’ Effie had responded.

Kirsty had pulled up a screenshot showing the stats for Effie’s video. A mind-boggling number of people had watched it. Were there even that many people in town?

‘You’re trending on LibraryTok,’ Kirsty had added, sounding almost impressed. But then she’d added, ‘You know, if you’re going to trend online, it might be a good idea to update your wardrobe.’

If Effie had been Bonnie, she might have whacked Kirsty with the telescope.

But instead, she’d smiled tightly and pretended to check in a stack of books on the desk.

To be honest, she had been thinking about going clothes shopping.

Every time Theo came through the door in his neat, well-fitting outfits, Effie felt frumpy and underdressed.

She was getting tired of hiding herself out of fear of being judged or teased.

If Theo wanted to spend time around her, that surely meant she wasn’t some hideous abomination.

Perhaps it was time to add just a touch of sartorial magic to her comfortable outfits.

Just a touch. In the name of her new-found LibraryTok fame, of course.

Effie wasn’t sure what LibraryTok was, but she planned to do what she did with any new concept she was unfamiliar with: look it up. It was the librarian way, after all.

She was deep down a rabbit hole of long-form articles when a woman she recognized from a Friends of the Library paint and sip event a few months back strode up to the counter with that I need a book look on her face. Serena Murphy, that was it.

‘Oh hi, Bonnie’s sister.’

‘Effie,’ said Effie, trying to keep the ice from her tone. Now Bonnie was encroaching upon the library?

‘I’m looking for Battle for Hearts on Horseback .’ Serena leaned closer, adding conspiratorially: ‘I’m on a gallant romance kick. The slow burn is real when everyone’s wearing armour.’

Effie knew this well – in solidarity with Bowow, she’d read just about the entire romance catalogue, and had come to the same conclusions about the challenges of medieval clothing. The poor authors of said volumes had some serious logistical challenges to consider.

‘That one’s currently out,’ she said, frowning as she browsed the record on the system. ‘And overdue.’

Serena pouted. ‘How about Hot Knights with Gawain ?’

Effie checked. ‘Also overdue.’

‘ Your Sword, My Liege ?’

Effie pulled up the listing for that one.

Same story. This was unusual, she thought, as she absently browsed through the overdues on her system.

There’d been a sharp uptick starting a few weeks earlier, but there hadn’t been any library closures or system outages to explain it.

The library didn’t charge fines – this had been one of the first things that she’d campaigned against upon taking the job – but they still discouraged people from hanging on to their books for ever.

Books were like money. They were made to be circulated, not hoarded.

It sounded like Effie had a book return drive to add to her endless administrative to-do list.

Perhaps Theo could help with that, she thought idly. He seemed eager to do his part, and apparently, he didn’t need a job, so he might as well do something useful with his time. Besides, Effie was starting to quite enjoy his company.

‘Would you like some other recommendations?’ asked Effie.

‘Sure,’ said Serena. ‘The more spice, the better.’

Well, then.

Effie walked Serena through some of the spicier selections on offer, digging behind the shelves and under a display table for the ones that she’d seen an apparently scandalized Mrs Brewster hide away after browsing them quite thoroughly.

Mrs Brewster had made the sign of the cross before going back for seconds.

‘Banned in Australia,’ mused Serena, as she perused a well-thumbed volume with a grey and white cover and a suggestive title about sharks. ‘Must be good.’

‘Oh, it has nothing on this series.’ Effie deposited a trio of cowboy werewolf books atop Serena’s ever-growing stack. Bowow had discussed them at length at romance book club, growing hotter and more bothered by the second.

‘I mean, some like them hairy.’

As she helped Serena with a comprehensive selection of glasses-fogging reading that should not be attempted on public transportation, Effie kept a close watch on the library doors, waiting for them to swing open under the shoulder of her favourite banker.

Who knew it was possible to have a favourite banker?

Especially when you were fundamentally anti-capitalist. Well, he was a former banker, which had to count for something.

The doors did swing with alarming regularity.

A school group coming in for a guided story time and borrowing session handled by Bowow, who volunteered on Thursdays; the Scrabblers, a gang of oldies who’d come in every morning to best each other’s triple word scores; Winston Ho, who had a thing for nautical maps; and Lily and Terrance from The Winged Monkey, who were whispering together about a job they’d both missed out on.

Once Serena was content with her huge stack of blush-worthy books, Effie hurried back to the circulation desk, where Babs, who worked at the Toto Hotel, was frantically dinging the bell that sat atop a copy of The Bell Jar .

‘There you are,’ said Babs, with her usual attitude.

Effie never quite understood how someone so acerbic had managed a fifty-year career in hospitality, or how she was universally so beloved in spite of her habit of snapping at people should they get in her way.

Especially if she was grocery shopping. Or waiting for a good parking spot.

‘I’m trying to borrow a book over here, if you hadn’t noticed. ’

Effie took the book, a weighty non-fiction tome about cannibalism. Very revealing, Babs.

‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘I was with another patron. Let’s get you sorted out.’

She scanned Babs’ card, then pulled up her account. Oh dear. The account was flashing bright red, like the background lighting in Effie’s frequent anxiety dreams. Effie scrolled through Babs’ borrowing record, which was extensive, and rather gory.

‘Babs, I can’t let you borrow this. You have twenty-seven books overdue.’

Babs folded her thin arms. ‘Lies!’

‘Let me print them out for you.’ Effie printed off a receipt listing Babs’ overdues, then circled the amount at the bottom showing how much money she’d saved by using the library, and how much money she’d saved thanks to the new fee-free overdues program.

Babs took the receipt, puzzling over it as though it were a cryptic crossword.

‘Something’s afoot,’ she said, waggling a finger. ‘Maybe I’ve been hacked. I attended your online safety awareness sessions. I know all about phishers and the like.’

‘Well, you keep an eye on your credit, and I’ll keep an eye out for those books in the drop box,’ said Effie.

But it was odd, though, wasn’t it? That so many books were overdue at once?

She was so busy searching through her files to count the overdue books that she didn’t notice a certain broad-shouldered guy come through the door until his elbows were on the desk and he was rearranging the bookmarks Effie kept by the monitor.