Chapter 4 – The Librarian
Herbert Lundstrom’s wife, Hazel, often said of her husband, “He’s short and bald with large pores, but he’s so wonderful.” And he was. He was kind, sympathetic, sweet natured, and helpful. In short, he was ill suited for civil service work, but the State of Florida had not yet discovered it, so he remained on the job. Miranda Ogilvy was blessed to be in his office a quarter-hour after leaving the DMV.
Lundstrom worked in Human Resources, and it was his joy to tell Miranda her new job at the Live Oak Public Library was waiting for her.
“I’m so glad to meet you in person, after all our correspondence and phone calls,” Lundstrom said as he ushered Miranda into his cubicle. “It’s not often we have an applicant with your credentials in a town this size. Miami’s loss is Live Oak’s gain, eh?”
“Actually, we met yesterday afternoon at Phyllis Ogilvy’s memorial service,” Miranda said pleasantly.
“We did?” Clearly Lundstrom had forgotten.
“But it’s good to see you again,” said Miranda, who had expected nothing else.
Leaning back in his faux leather chair, which Hazel had lovingly chosen for him from a very upscale office equipment catalog, Lundstrom made a tent with his fingers and smiled in Miranda’s direction. “So, tell me, Mary—”
“Miranda.”
“—right—tell me, how in the world did you acquire a house in Minokee? I was shocked to see your address. It’s such a tiny community, they say nothing is ever available in real estate there unless somebody dies.” He chuckled.
“Somebody died,” said Miranda.
“Oh?” The chuckle became an uncertain smile.
“Phyllis Ogilvy? You were at her memorial service yesterday?”
“Oh! Oh, Phyllis, yes! Of course, yes. She was one of our civil service employees, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” said Miranda. “You’re giving me her job.”
“Pardon?”
“The librarian position here in Live Oak. That was Phyllis’ old job. She was the librarian here since before I was born. But you already knew that.” Miranda smiled.
Lundstrom smiled, too, but his eyes were blank. Apparently he knew nothing of the sort. They smiled at each other across his desk while his Birds of America clock, another gift from Hazel, chirped off several seconds.
Suddenly, Lundstrom surged to his feet and thrust his glad hand toward Miranda. “Well, it’s great to have you with us. See Tom in Accounting to fill out the tax forms and such, and report to the library bright and early Monday morning.”
Miranda bounced up and shook the proffered hand. “Thank you, Mr. Lundstrom. I look forward to the new assignment.”
“Right you are. Good day, Michelle.”
“It’s Mi, uh, good day, Mr. Lundstrom.”
Miranda went to see Tom in Accounting, even though she knew that Tom in Accounting, naturally, would not really see her.