It’s weird walking these streets again. Not necessarily bad, just… weird. Julian hadn’t expected to be back so soon. Only a handful of years have passed since he swore never to set foot in his hometown again, yet here he is, having taken the last bus on the previous night so he’d arrive late enough not to encounter familiar faces. He doubts anyone would recognise him, but he’d rather not take chances. Rain was pouring down when he woke from yet another restless night, so he hadn’t felt guilty about hiding away in his hotel room all morning. But now that the sky has cleared, it’s time he goes out to grab some food. Just because he’s back doesn’t mean he should fall back into old habits.
‘Julian, is that you?’ The voice sounds like it walked straight out of his fondest childhood memories. He looks up and instantly smiles.
Callie drops her cigarette and crushes it with the heel of her boot, then welcomes him into her arms. He accepts the hug gratefully.
‘You’ve grown so much,’ she says into his shoulder.
For a split-second he hears another, sharper voice. You grow too much. Harsh hands pulling at the bottom of his shirt. We only bought this a few months ago.
He shakes off the memory. ‘I’m afraid I can’t say the same of you, Callie.’
‘You wound me, my boy,’ she says, a hand clutching her chest.
The endearment still warms his chest in the same way it did when he was sixteen, twelve, ten. He watches her closely, maps out the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, the lines on her forehead. She wears old age well, in the way only the best people ever do. He can’t help but notice other things, though: the tense set of her shoulders, the crease between her brows. The fact that she’s smoking again. His smile fades into something more cautious.
‘How have you been?’
She shrugs. ‘As well as can be expected, I suppose.’ At his blank look, her eyes widen. ‘Of course, you wouldn’t know. Did you just get here?’
Julian ignores the question. ‘Callie, what’s going on?’
Her lips press together. ‘The library.’ She nudges her head to the building behind her. ‘It’s been shut down.’
The first thing that hits him is profound relief – his mind had been filled with images of illness, death, disaster. But once his worries for Callie’s health have been laid to rest, something inside of him crumples. ‘What?’
‘Seems like we’re no longer needed. Alec is too old to put up much of a fight, not that it would’ve made a difference.’
Julian doesn’t know what to say. Maybe there is nothing he can say, nothing he can do but stand by Callie’s side as they share their silent devastation. Funny, really; a funeral brought him here, yet the only grief he feels is for his small hometown library.
Callie straightens up. ‘We’re selling books inside, surely you’ll come take a look?’
The library is both familiar and not. Brown tiles and beige walls try to pull him into the past, while the lonely dark wood of the empty shelves roots him to the present. Tables have been pushed to the centre of the room, cardboard boxes filled with books placed upon them. He steps forward, cautious to walk quietly, as though the echoes of his footsteps still matter.
While reading through the titles in the closest box, he lets his hand rest softly on its edge. He turns to Callie.
‘These aren’t all of them, right?’
She huffs, amused. ‘No, my boy. Just the ones with no other home to go to.’
Julian moves on to the next box. The book spines are wrinkled with use, signs of love. He reaches for one of them, pulls it out. It looks old, its pages yellowed and folded. When he opens it, he spots a stain on the first page. Coffee, maybe? A price is written with pencil in the corner, laughably cheap. He holds onto the book as he continues browsing.
‘What about you?’ he asks Callie. Do you have another home to go to? ‘Will you be working at another library?’
Callie’s expression dims. Like this, Julian can see how the years have worn her thin. In his mind’s eye, she’s still the same as the first time he saw her, when his shoulders barely reached the counter. She’d smiled at him with such warmth, then.
Finally, she shakes her head. ‘Gosh, no.’ Her tone is airy, but he can tell it’s at least partly forced. ‘It’s about time I get some rest. With how sleepless my nights have been these past few weeks, I am quite looking forward to it.’
‘You’ve earned the peace and quiet, Cal,’ he agrees, placing a gentle hand on her back.
They talk until his stomach growls and she shoos him out of the library, insisting he should get something to eat. The entire time he was there, Callie didn’t mention his mother once. Whether it’s because the news hasn’t reached her or because she knows him well enough not to bring it up, he doesn’t know. He feels grateful either way.