Three weeks had elapsed since Seth Ryan last visited the library. For nearly six months he'd been visiting at least twice a week, checking out horror and action novels, often sprawling on a seat and reading a few chapters before taking his picks home, so the fact that his tall, broad frame hadn't appeared inside the council building's walls for twenty-four days had not gone unnoticed by the library staff.
Only one of the librarians, Ellie, knew why he'd stayed away. She'd asked a question of him, the sort of question that anyone with an ounce of sensitivity and an IQ above room temperature should know not to ask of a returned serviceman. As soon as she'd finished speaking, he's stared at her, dumbstruck, his dark grey eyes fixed on hers, before suddenly picking up his books and shoving them into his backpack. He'd headed out of the glass doors without responding, and Ellie had immediately realised just how foolish and stupid her question had been.
That had been the last time he'd ventured here until today. Maybe the weather had driven him back. It had been a cold, miserable week of rain. The humidity made everything feel damp, and the unpredictable skies kept people indoors, away for their usual, outdoor leisure activities. Drying clothes became a nightmare in a country where garments were normally dried outside, on a line. Seth was a compulsive reader. He'd have long finished the last four books he checked out.
The gazes of the three library staff on duty turned to Seth as he stepped inside the doors and shrugged off his backpack and his motorcycle jacket in one, rough, manoeuvre. The helmet that had been hooked over his wrist was dotted with raindrops, and his jeans carried the heavy scent of rain. He wiped his boots on the mat, and made his way to the book return facility.
Seth seemed acutely aware of the attention that his presence was attracting, but he seemed equally determined to ignore it as he checked his books back in. He was especially careful to avoid catching Ellie's eye.
Ellie's shoulders slumped and her heart sunk. For a while she thought he might lodge a complaint against her. That would be the end of her, wouldn't it? She was thirty-six years old and single. Without a job, she was sunk. But he didn't. Or, rather, he hadn't, not yet. Maybe he still would. Maybe he was just biding his time, trying to figure out how best to word his complaint.
Another small part of her had hoped that her question hadn't offended him, and his absence was due to him being on holiday. That had been wishful thinking. Deep down, she'd known the truth. She'd asked the unaskable, and he'd responded with the age-old tactic of avoidance.
'Excuse me?'
Ellie turned around to see an international student trying to attract her attention. 'I'm sorry, how can I help?' she asked.
'I'd like to book a room please, for my study group. Next Tuesday, please.'
Ellie forced herself to smile and ask for the preferred time and room. The student knew what she wanted, and the booking was quickly made. All the same, by the time Ellie had finalised the task, Seth had finished checking his books back in and had disappeared amongst the shelves.
The library was busy, but Seth was a man of habit, so she knew he'd probably be in the general fiction area. He liked Dean Koontz and Stephen King and the early Lee Child books. Sometimes he read romance, and sometimes he read comedy, but mostly it was action or horror.
Should she go and find him? Apologise? Or would that just make it worse? He probably wanted to forget it had ever happened. He was here to borrow books, after all, not make small talk with librarians, regardless of how much the two of them may have flirted with each other in the past.
Seth wasn't a man who immediately stood out, but all the same, he'd quickly become the eye candy of the library staff. He'd need to drop a few kilos to have washboard abs, but there was something about the extra weight on an otherwise muscular frame that suited him. His face was proportionate if not handsome, and although his teeth curiously ground flat at the edges, they were straight and white.
From his library card information file the librarians knew he was thirty-nine years old, and he looked his age. Quiet but not shy, confident but not aggressive. A paramedic these days, having retired from service nearly four years ago. He rode a Harley, lived in a rented house two kilometres away, and had listed his mother as his emergency contact.
He wasn't a serial flirt, but at some time over the past few months, his banter with Ellie had shifted from casual to friendly to something more, and she'd responded in kind. She'd anticipated his visits, and her efforts with her hair and make-up had improved. Seth, too, had seemed to be ensuring he was well dressed for his visits. And both of them had kept their flirting as discreet as possible, always cautious not to let the other library staff catch them.
Did you kill anyone while you were serving?
Oh God, the stupidity of the question. If only she could explain. She understood that no matter what she said to justify it, it would still be an insensitive question, but maybe if she could tell him why she'd asked, he'd judge her less harshly.
She spent half an hour agonising over what to do. In the end, she did and said nothing. Seth found some books, checked them out, and left the library.
She wondered if and when she'd see him again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seth hadn't really known what to expect from life as a civilian. He waited for PTSD to set in. It didn't. He waited to become an alcoholic. He didn't. He waited to find out his wife had spent years cheating on him. He didn't.
That wasn't to say the adjustment was easy, or that his marriage survived his return, because neither were true. He'd launched himself straight into study, and to bring in a few dollars he picked up weekend security work. He was frequently out of the house, but he was around a hell of a lot more than he'd been previously, and it turned out to be too much for either his or Nicole's liking.
They'd spent ten years together, seven of that married, but she'd never followed him to his postings, instead electing to remain on the Gold Coast. Maybe if she had gone with him, they'd both have realised that the love was long gone, but she hadn't. It was only in the months after his discharge that reality set in. It was over.
The divorce was amicable, and she'd quickly moved on, remarried and had recently had her first child. He was happy for her. Why wouldn't he be? During their union he'd suffered none of the indignities, stress or embarrassment that some of his colleagues had endured with their spouses. He and Nicole had similar spending and saving habits, could live compatibly, and had engaged in decent, satisfying sex. Not mind blowing, but it had certainly scratched the itch.
