The next morning found Jacob back to work in the library, going through records and paper. He'd mostly managed to arrange things so he knew what not to bother with, but he wasn't sure how long it was going to take him to find anything in the huge section of "things that could be useful."

At mid morning, Cassandra came in carrying a large cup of coffee and a paper plate holding Christmas cookies. "I brought you some fuel," she said, setting them down next to him with a smile.

There it was that smile that he couldn't help responding to. "Well, thank you."

She took a seat across from him. "Any luck?"

He shook his head, "not so far. I've basically organized things into 'too new to be of any help', 'probably won't be any help' and of course the 'worth going through but disorganized,'" he sighed. "Ya'll really need to have an archivist or at least an assistant."

"Well, if we don't find anything, then it's kinda moot," Cassandra sighed in turn.

"It's an old, beautiful building, sure I'll find something," he said because something in him hating seeing this woman sad.

She smiled at that and touched his arm. "I can't thank you enough for helping."

He shrugged. "Got nothing better to do."

He realized as he said it, how bitter it sounded. But the bitterness was self directed. The time in the Annex between visits here had seemed to stand still, a side effect he was sure of being not quite dead but certainly not alive. He'd come to realize what a waste his life had become. Sure he'd won awards, lived his dream, maybe did good. But in pursuit of his ambition, his life had been put on a shelf. He was estranged from his family, sure that was a two way street, but he could have done more. After his mother's death, he'd stopped going home. He was too busy to return calls and texts from his siblings so they stopped bothering.

He had no children. Never married, never even had much in the way of a meaningful relationship. There had been promise in his youth but he'd jerked her around, putting his career first and she'd finally moved on after hanging on longer than she probably should have. He couldn't even remember when he last celebrated Christmas, spending his breaks bored and chomping at the bit for a new semester to begin.

Cassandra flinched back and he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong," he pointed to himself. "College professor. I have nothing on my plate until school resumes in January. I'm happy to have something to keep me busy."

"Ah," she nodded, understanding passing across her features. "But don't you have holiday plans? Vacation? Visiting your family?"

He shook his head. "I'm not really much for the holidays . . .at least not since my mama died."

Cassandra bit her lip, her smile a little sad. "I felt that way too when my mother died. But she loved Christmas and so, it's my way of honoring her to keep it." She sighed a little, pushing herself up. "Wish I could say that I don't feel a bit like I'm going through the motions this year . . . . I gotta, I gotta get back out there. Thank you again."

Jacob really didn't get to respond, because in a swish of her skirt, she was gone, him just waving at her as she left.

It continued like that for the next couple of days, Jacob (and sometimes Cassandra when she had some time) organized and poured over files. She would come in with coffee, snacks and lunch and Stone would take a much needed break to talk to her about something other than files. He found the red head to be intelligent, well read and very funny. He also found himself talking to her about things that he didn't think he'd talked to anyone about ever. It wasn't that he kept things that much of a secret, but in his experience people never actually asked him about them. Some of it, sure he'd kept bottled up in the spirit of family harmony, never wanting to upset his mother. But there were other dreams of his, dreams he'd never even given voice to, that he found himself telling Cassandra. Maybe she was a good listener, maybe the fact that his life was over and there would be no consequences now to their telling, maybe it was both.

Today she was talking about her parents. "They divorced when I was a teenager."

"Sorry to hear that, sometimes wish my mama would have left my Pop . . ." he shook his head, he'd already told Cassandra much of this. "Though to be fair, he worshipped her, never laid a hand on her. The rest of us . . . and she only could do so much to stop him."

Cassandra gave him a sympathetic gaze but could read him well enough to continue with her story. "That's just the thing though, they were still in love. When Mom was sick, Dad was there all the time, she died holding our hands, words of love all around us." She shook her head. "He's still never remarried. Dad's a wanderer. Not to other women, Mom was the love of his life. But as much as he loved us, he couldn't stay put. Not even for her. They tried for years to let him go off, but it just got too much. He'd write her all the time, still does me, but now it's Facebook and Instagram. Right now he's on a sailboat in the Caribbean."

Jacob nodded, thoughtfully. "I'm a bit of a wanderer myself. So I get that. But . . ." his voice softened. "I always thought that if I found the one I could call home, then I wouldn't leave. Couldn't leave." It was something that had always been in the back of his mind, but he'd ignored that voice for too long. Now it was too late. A soft chuckle escaped. "Too late for that now though."

Cassandra opened her mouth, but Jacob was saved from having to answer the question he knew was coming by one of her co-worker's sticking her head in the door. "Hey, Cassandra? We have a question on the floor and we need you."

"Be right there!" she called. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course," Jacob smiled. "Thanks for lunch."

As he watched her go, his smile faded. An eternity at the Library sounded like bliss and a couple of days ago, he was ready to go. But now, he realized what he'd lost in the world of the living. There would be no home with a smart beautiful red head and a cat and a dog and maybe a little blue eyed bundle of joy for him.

When he realized that future he just gave himself included the children's librarian, he buried his face in his hands. "What am I doing? I can't fall for her now, it's too late. Too late."

The next day was Cassandra's day off and Jacob found himself spending an awkward day in the Annex with Jenkins. Worse still about the awkwardness was that time didn't seem to exist when he wasn't with Cassandra. He didn't miss the research (though he actually did find it interesting, the branch was old and had lots of files, but the history of the branch itself was only of interest to people like him and not enough to save it) but he missed Cassandra's smiles, her Christmasy outfits, the way that little air of sadness around her faded away when she was with him, her company. Even if he wasn't doing this to get a heavenly reward, her faith and hope in him would be enough to keep him going. He missed her, missed her with the passion of a man who'd finally found what he was looking for all his life, only to have found it too late. Would eternity be spent missing her until she finally came to the Library herself? And would that even be a reunion since he was sure her feelings were simply kindness and gratitude and not the love he felt for her.

"Jenkins," he said suddenly, looking up from endless filing work. "Will I remember my life when I'm in the Library?"

Jenkins stopped his writing and looked at him thoughtfully. "You will, but you will be free from the weight of human emotion."

Jacob pushed the drawer he'd finished closed, with perhaps more force than necessary. "So I'll be free from love? From joy? From happiness?"

"Ah," Jenkins said, standing up and patting his shoulder. "You'll also be free from pain, sorrow, regret. Those are things I believe you wish to be free of."

Jacob blinked away a sudden rush of tears. "Yes, yes I do."

"Then enjoy the happy emotions while you still have them and let the others go. You'll get your reward soon enough."

Jacob hmmed but looked down at his work. "I gotta go get another box, I'll be back." As he turned to leave, a thought occurred to him. "Hey Jenkins, why are you still in the Annex?"

Jenkins had a small smile on his face. "I still have one last thing to accomplish, my boy."

Jacob decided not to ask and shuffled off to get that box.

Jenkins looked over at the book, still open to the photo of Cassandra and nodded his head. "I shouldn't have doubted you. But what about her?"