"Are you returning or renewing?"
The young woman gazed down at the worn leather cover of the book pensively. "Hmmm… I was going to return it, but now that you mention it, I think I'd like to renew instead." The farmer had consulted the book several times since she initially borrowed it from the library; it had become a sort of rulebook to her new life.
The librarian gave her a kind smile and stamped the inside of the cover with a fresh stamp as she retrieved the sign out card in one fluid motion. "I just need your name here, please."
The blonde printed her name in tidy, round letters and pushed the card back across the reception desk. She glanced around the room in surprise as she realized that she was the only visitor this afternoon.
Mary noticed the farmer's curious stare and bit her lip. She adjusted her glasses as her eyes focused on the slip of paper. "Y-Your name has a nice ring to it." She sputtered.
The farmer was flattered; her attention brought back to the person who was actually present at the library today. "Really? I always thought my name was pretty boring myself." She chuckled softly.
The librarian let out a bitter laugh. "You want to hear a boring name? Mary Brown."
While Claire did have to admit that the name wasn't overly embellished, it sounded perfectly fine to her. She expressed this with a shrug and got a pained gaze in response.
Mary fidgeted with her sleeves, avoiding eye contact. "Th-That's why I always try to write my characters with interesting-sounding names… I wish my parents could have at least given me a less common first name to make up for my last one. Maybe something like Olivia, or Daphne, or Gwendolyn…" The librarian bit her lip as she fussed with the dark braid that rested across her shoulder.
"Just because your name isn't rare doesn't mean that it isn't a nice one," The farmer chimed in.
She got a shy smile in response. "Th-That's really kind of you to say… Sp-Speaking of wr-writing…" Mary pulled her notebook out of the desk drawer and gingerly placed it on the surface between them. "W-Well… I have the next chapter done. Pl-Please give it a read if you have the time and let me know what you think," Mary wrung her hands nervously.
They both knew that this meek request was near impossible for Claire to refuse when those dark eyes were filled with such supplication. The farmer gave her a civil smile; she didn't feel comfortable with the desperate way the librarian was looking at her. The blonde had arrived at the library already eager to hear more about the exploits of Viola Remmington, the instructor of herbal medicine, and she was pleased to see that a new chapter was ready for reviewing. "Sure," She courteously accepted the offered notebook as Mary offered her a red pen with a trembling hand.
"I-I'll be upstairs. Just come and get me when you are finished. Thanks again, Claire." The timid librarian hurried up the creaky wooden stairs.
The blonde walked over to one of the tables and sat down. She got more comfortable in her chair and flipped the notebook to where she had previously left off. The young woman read the first paragraph three times before moving her eyes up from the book and looking incredulously around the room. Claire was a little bit grateful that Mary wasn't present; she was sure that the both of them would be embarrassed at the farmer's behavior.
Curious, she turned back to the previous pages. Yes, it was the same hurried scrawl from before; Mary had definitely penned this. If it weren't for the distinct handwriting, she would have thought someone else had vandalized the writer's work.
It was awful.
This wasn't the polished, carefully chosen, hearty writing the blonde had come to expect from the young woman. It lacked detail. Blatant mistakes, like missing words and punctuation, were rampant. It was a chore to read and wasn't enjoyable at all. Claire's red pen hovered over the pages; she began to wonder if the librarian was testing her in some way. Hadn't Mary said something about only offering up work that had gotten her own approval first? Claire found it difficult to believe that the writer was actually okay with submitting these words for anyone's review after behaving so protectively the last time she asked for feedback.
The young woman bit her lip as she stared at the paper in front of her. Although she knew that she wasn't using the phrase as it was originally intended, those who stated that the pen was mightier than the sword couldn't have been more accurate; Claire felt like she was holding a syringe of lethal poison as she hesitated over the scrawled lines. They were the quiet, sensitive young woman's words, they were her passion; the blonde wasn't sure at what point she had become afraid of hurting the librarian's feelings.
She took a deep breath and injected the notebook with red ink. The editor nervously bit her lip as she made her corrections, looking timidly over her shoulder several times. Claire tried her best to keep her comments in the margins written in an encouraging tone, but it was hard work; her eyes were starting to swim with red arrows and slashes.
Mary had asked for honesty; she was going to get just that.
The farmer let out a sigh and stared at the bloodbath in front of her; strikethroughs, scribbles, injected words and suggestions all danced before her eyes in a red blur. Claire's hands quivered as she replaced the sheath on her weapon. She looked down at the smoldering remains of Mary's words and frowned, slamming the book shut in shame. She looked at the stairway and her body felt like lead. The young woman sat in silence for a few moments, rehearsing in her mind what she would say if the librarian got angry or started to cry. Surely if she upset Mary, Gray would never speak to her again. Why had she agreed on proofreading for the writer, anyway?
After a few minutes, Claire found herself at the top of the stairs. She stared at the floor below her, wondering how she had managed to drag her heavy feet up the entire flight. The librarian was frantically sorting through a stack of books; the farmer almost felt bad for distracting her. She cleared her throat; it suddenly felt parched.
"S-So you're finished, then?" Mary whirled around and hurried over toward Claire. "D-Do you have any questions? A-Any overall s-suggestions?" Her dark eyes searched the young woman and Claire gulped with much difficulty.
"Ah… I-It's a l-little less polished than I'm used t-to seeing from y-you…" Her mouth felt uncomfortably dry.
Mary glanced down at the red-stained pages and she adjusted her glasses. "I-I kind of knew that as soon as I finished writing it…" She admitted as she gave her editor a rueful smile.
The farmer's stomach twisted into an uncomfortable knot; the librarian was certainly behaving differently than the last time Claire reviewed her work. "Well, then… Why did you have me look at it before you fixed it up?" The young woman's cheeks felt unreasonably warm.
Her companion was silent for a moment. She took off her glasses and held them in one hand as she rubbed her forehead. "I… suppose I just needed to hear someone say that to me…" The librarian shuffled her feet and stared at the floor with a sad smile as she returned her glasses to her face.
"Well… I'm a little surprised that I was your first choice as editor," Claire ventured. She noticed that the pages had been free of red ink when Mary offered her the notebook. The farmer assumed that she would have allowed her daily visitor to review the work before Claire did, considering they were much closer.
"You don't hold back with the red pen; that's a good thing…" The blonde was given an uncharacteristic shrug of the shoulders from the writer. "I know you put your heart in everything you do… After all, I've heard a lot about your farm lately…" She didn't say it in an unfriendly tone, but the young woman didn't exactly sound too pleased about it either. Mary's eyes didn't move up from the floorboards.
Claire contemplated the librarian's statement. In those few words, she had said a mouthful. The farmer was bombarded with a rush of emotions – pleasure that Mary's best friend had probably been bragging about Claire's hard work and dedication, victory that she had managed to capture the young man's attention, thrill in that she was being considered a potential rival by the young woman for Gray's affections… guilt for seeing the pain in those mocha brown eyes...
Claire wasn't sure what to say in response. She jumped in surprise when she heard Mary's sudden voice.
"I-I'll have something better for you next time. Th-Thank you again for editing my story so honestly. It looks like I've got my work cut out for me for this chapter. I'll… I'll take my time with the next one and write something much better…" The librarian bowed politely and Claire stiffened when she noticed how frequently Mary was blinking her shiny eyes.
The blonde's throat tightened. "I-I'm sure it will be great," She stammered as she played at the straps on her rucksack.
The librarian said nothing in response, but gave a slight nod; they both knew it was time for Claire to leave.
"I-I'll see you around." The farmer's voice cracked.
Mary's eyes focused on the notebook in her hands. "Yeah… See you." Her voice was pleasant, as was her smile, but her eyes reflected a deep pain.
Trembling, Claire hurried down the creaky stairs, her pounding heart throbbing in her ears. She closed the door to the library a little more loudly than she meant to, and she stumbled back to her farm, more confused than ever.
0o0o0o0
Author's Note: Strangely enough, I struggled writing a chapter about someone struggling to write. Life's silly like that, huh?
Comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated. A heartfelt thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, review, favorite, and follow this story. This piece is truly a labor of love for me, and a therapeutic tool. I am grateful for all of the support! :)