The love of his life gone, his parents taken suddenly from him, his will to live destroyed, he’d been forced to sell the farm to survive. He retained the house and a few acres surrounding the structures but everything else was gone. The funds from the sale had provided sustenance but not for long. He’d had hours and days filled with rage and resentment and no outlet until, one late night, he’d watched To Catch a Thief and his destiny was set in motion.
He’d get back at that rich bastard that took his Virginia May and every other money grubbing scumbag that he could find. He’d set things right and all would be well. His energy and anger toward God and man were funneled into perfecting his craft and it had paid off. His first target had been Virginia May’s home. What a thrill that had been, rifling through their belongings, knowing what he did of her wants and desires had been overwhelming, as he stood in their bedroom imagining what took place there.
The crime had actually been easier than he had imagined, valuables were plentiful, access barely unrestricted and unloading the items a breeze. A newfound career with untold benefits, the thrill of the hunt ever present had paid off for him over the past ten years. He was free from a criminal record, except in his heart, and the scattered bank accounts only needed one final deposit to set him free.
There was no question that the librarian, Blanche 'Whatever', had caught his attention due to her similarity to Virginia May, but there was more to it than that, and he was sure he’d seen it in her eyes. She wanted him. His sloppy performance at the library was suspect, and the exchange disconcerting, but there was no mistaking the glint in her eye as he had left. In his mind it was unmistakable. There had been an attraction there, but what to do from here. She knew him as a handicapped vet with poor vision and a cane. He suspected his performance and disguise would not linger in the woman’s memory, but when he appeared before her as himself she would be unable to resist the connection. The thought of how that may play out occupied his mind until he returned home.
Entering the hidden desk area he could see a message was waiting on the restricted cell phone. He dialed, “Where are you? You’re suppose to have this phone with you at all times, is that understood? Don’t phone me back. I’ll be busy but we want two quick outings back to back on the heels of what you did last night. By the way, good job, the press is going nuts and the police won’t release any information. A wonderful little panic is starting to develop, keep it going. Won’t be any package of info for these next two, sorry, no time. Do something on your own, we’ll leave it up to you, but keep it within the same zone we’re working with. If you have any questions you can try me tomorrow.”
“Finally,” he thought, “I’m tired of having to pick on these common folk, ‘bout time somebody with some cash paid the price.”
The dreamy librarian eventually found the energy to pull herself from her fantasies and returned to real life. She really needed someone tonight, if not to hold at least to talk to. The thought of Mrs. Muir or Caroline came to mind, but she just didn’t have the will to spend another hour talking about fruit salad or the latest soaps. She considered going for a walk but the assault at the bus stop prevented her from mustering the courage to venture out, at least not alone.
Jasper and his powerful chest flashed through her mind, remembering that tomorrow night she needed to attend the bodybuilding competition. The idea both disgusted and titillated her at the same time.
“Hope I don’t embarrass myself,” she thought as she pictured all the buff men in tiny little Speedo’s displayed before her. “No, better not contact Jasper, that would be way too forward. Maybe Seymour. Could pretend I was curious about the project we’d worked on together. That’s a plausible reason for a call, right?” she surmised, running ideas through her head as she paced her room. “But what would his mother think, a mature woman like myself phoning her younger son? Screw it, he’s cute and I know he’s got the hots for me, a quick phone call won’t hurt, I’ll keep it very professional.”
Blanche could feel her pulse quicken, anxiety rising, breath coming in shorter, faster intakes and exhales, her hand shook slightly as she picked up the phone and dialed.
A woman answered, “Hello, Wood residence.”
“Must be his mother,” she thought. "Why couldn’t Seymour have answered?"
“Yes, hello, I was wondering if I might speak to Seymour?” her voice quivered slightly, as she made the request.
“So would I,” his mother said back into the receiver. “Never get much of a chance to see him these days, I think he sleeps here cause his bed is tussled in the mornin’ and food is missing from the fridge but he’s nothing more than a ghost around here, I'm afraid.”
“Sorry to hear it,” Blanche sincerely responded.
“Can I take a message or you could try his cell?”
“He’s got a cell phone?” she questioned, wishing she had had that information before trying his home.
On his fixed income and school expenses she hadn’t imagined he could afford a phone as well, but then again every kid eight and older had a cell phone these days.
“Yup, not for very long. Would you like the number?”
“That would be helpful, thank you,” her pulse slowing, with the cheerful mood of the call.
“You ready? 229-412-3838, don’t have any idea where he is tonight but you are welcome to give him a try. Do you mind me asking what this is in reference to?” his mother questioned the stranger.
“No, not at all, this is Blanche Delaney, I work with Seymour at the library. I just had a couple of work related questions for him. While I’ve got you, I must tell you, he’s a very courteous young man and a pleasure to work with.”
“Thank you, thank you very much, it’s nice to hear once in awhile that your efforts are paying off. Hasn’t been easy ‘round here since his father passed but don’t know what I'd do without him. I’ve heard him talk about you. You the pretty red haired woman?”
Blanche could feel her cheeks warming and reflexively turning red, “I guess you could say my hair is a shade of red, everybody else at the library is graying so guess that would be me.”
“Well, this here boy of mine has got a tender heart and I believe a pretty big crush on you. I’d appreciate it if you’d be careful with his feelings,” his mother said, worried that she had perhaps overstepped her bounds but forging ahead anyway.
“No, no, it’s not like that at all, just needing to talk about some shift changes we’re considering and I needed his input.”
“Well that’s fine, he’s a grown man and all, but just don’t want to see him get hurt, if you know what I mean,” the concerned mother continued.
“I certainly appreciate your concern and will do all I can to avoid causing your son any distress,” Blanche replied. “Thanks for the phone number and it was nice talking with you Mrs. Wood, good night.”
His mother’s tone gave her pause. The phone shook in her hand as she considered both the up and down sides of making the call. Her mind made up she pressed the digits and lifted the small phone to her ear, a pause much longer than she expected, then a ring, ring, ring, ring, finally someone picked up at the other end.
“Hello Blanche, that really you?” the voice said.
“Yeah, it’s really me, how are you?” she excitedly said into her cellular.
“I can’t believe you’ve finally found time to phone me, thought maybe you’d forgotten about your best friend,” Holly said.
“Never, no way, just been so crazy with trying to get my life settled here and everything. You know how it can be?” Blanche responded.
The old friends picked up their conversation like it had been yesterday that they had talked last. The librarian filled her friend in on what she’d been doing, information about the job and the area. Holly was anxious to hear all that but was more than a little interested to hear about Blanche’s love life.