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Claire let out a screech so deafening that I nearly lost my concentration. As for the man—I wasn’t sure what to make of it. An older man sat behind a desk with what looked like a letter opener. Only…he wasn’t using it as a weapon. It was currently slicing under the page glued to the front of the book.
I shifted on my feet, totally lost as to what was going on. “Put down the weapon,” I ordered.
The man raised an eyebrow at Claire, then hissed, “I thought you said this book belonged to the library.”
“It does,” she said quickly. “I’m so sorry. My husband is a little overprotective.”
“Of a book? And here I thought it was silly you were crying over it.”
Confused, I waited for my wife to give some indication of what was going on. She didn’t fail. Her jaw dropped in shock and she immediately let the man have it. “A book? That’s all this is to you? It’s a first edition of Gone With The Wind! That book is a classic, and you think it’s silly to be crying over the fact that this treasure is damaged?” she shrieked.
“I can fix this,” he said gently.
But my Claire was a softy for books and broke down in tears. “It’ll never be the same. As sure as you’re slicing through the glue to rebind it, you can never rebind what has been broken in my soul!”
Shoving the gun in my holster, I realized now was not the time to point my weapon at anyone. Though the man clearly had a death wish. I hurried over to Claire and wrapped my arms around her. “Baby, you need to calm down.”
“Calm down? Did you just tell me to calm down?” she asked, spinning in my arms. “Do you realize what’s happening? A book is being dissected! It’s a classic and its once pristine condition is now tarnished because somebody didn’t respect that book. And you want me to calm down?”
“I want you to not have a coronary,” I continued. “Listen, I understand that you’re upset, but he’s just trying to help. I promise, I’ll be here with you the whole time.”
Her eyes filled with tears and her lip quivered. “You promise?”
“I won’t leave your side.”
I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, and together we stood waiting as the man gently repaired the book. I had to stop Claire from running to the book several times, and when the page was fully removed, she turned into my arms and sobbed like when her father had died. It broke my heart, and I had to turn away as we both struggled to compose ourselves—but for very different reasons.
“There,” the man smiled, holding it up for us to see. “Good as new.”
Claire wiped the tears from her face and hesitantly walked forward, holding out her hands for the precious treasure. Upon inspecting it, she turned to me with a brilliant smile. “It’s perfect.”
“Just be careful with it. Remember, it’ll never be the same again,” the old man said.
“You can barely see the scar,” Claire murmured in awe.
“Honey,” I said slowly. “You do realize the book didn’t actually have surgery, right?”
She turned to me with a scowl. “Did you see the knife?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see the light overhead?”
“Um…yeah.”
“It was book surgery. We could have lost one,” she choked out. “Don’t ever tell me the scars aren’t real.”
Glancing at the old man, I could see the faint smile on his lips. He shook his head as he packed up his things in an old leather medical bag, closing the clasp over the opening.
“My work here is done.” He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it over. “If you ever need my services again, you know who to call.”
I took it from him with a grateful smile, tucking the card into my pocket. As he passed, he leaned in and whispered, “They’re all afraid with the first one. Give it time.”
I frowned at his statement. “Women?”
He jerked back, his eyebrows pulled down in consternation. “No, son. Librarians. They’re a fickle bunch, but she’ll be okay in a day or two.”
“What can I do to help?”
