Free Carbs & Cadavers by J. B. Stanley Page A

him expectantly. Her gaze made his heart beat faster as he shuffled through the menu packet he had created. The light from the fluorescents stained her blue eyes a deep indigo. “Ah, let’s see . . . page 6. It’s all there, including what every person needs to bring. I wasn’t trying to be bossy, I was just trying to make things easier on everyone.” His shoulders slumped. “We can divvy out all of the menu items out on Sunday for our next meeting. I had found this website on running a supper club so . . .” He trailed off.
    “Oh, James,” Lindy was instantly apologetic. “I was just teasing you! You have done a terrific job and, speaking for all of us, I’m glad we were able to recruit you. We’d still be trying to decide on a diet plan if it weren’t for you. Now, since I don’t have a single one of those snack items at home, I’m off to the grocery store.”
    “Man cannot live on celery . . . at all,” Bennett stated seriously. “I’m going to pick up some cheese and a whole mess of peanuts.”
    “Me too,” echoed the others as they shuffled out of the office, wishing James a good night and warmly thanking him again for the menu packets.
    James was so unused to praise that he just stood behind his desk, soaking up the moment. The library was quiet, as most of the high school students had retrieved the information they needed to complete their projects and had gone home. Mrs. Waxman was busy flipping through the pages of Time magazine as James walked past her with a cheerful wave.
    “Have a good night, James,” she whispered and waved in return.
    Outside, darkness had fallen among the pine trees, dragging with it a multitude of glittering stars. “I believe I will have a good night,” James answered. As he headed to his car, he walked a little taller, like a man with a purpose.

James was repairing a loose page from a hardback copy of The Old Man and the Sea . He lovingly applied a thin line of glue along the inside gutter and then carefully replaced the page. Closing the book, he wrapped it with a rubber band and then set a brick covered in muslin on top so that the weight could help set the glued page. Scott had given him several lessons in book repair and now sat beside him using fine-grade sandpaper to rub away ground dirt smudges from the page corners of a copy of Tender is the Night .
    “There you are, Mr. Hemingway,” James handed Scott a newly covered copy of The Sun Also Rises to be placed on the reshelving cart.
    “Think you could ever run with the bulls, Professor Henry?” Scott asked, pushing his heavy glasses farther up on his nose.
    “Not unless they counted me as one of the bulls,” James replied grumpily. It was only Thursday and he felt as though he couldn’t survive another second without having a bag of cheese puffs or a slice of pepperoni pizza. He was irritable and hungry and felt completely devoid of energy.
    “The F. Scott Fitzgerald books must be in the best shape out of our entire collection,” James said, meaning to be critical, but Scott beamed as if he had just received a compliment.
    “We try,” he answered modestly, glancing across the room at his twin brother as he sat at the reference desk. “They see so much wear because they’re on the reading list at Blue Ridge High. Imagine, a Fitzgerald classic every year! What a great school that must be.”
    James ignored him, wishing a patron would arrive with a challenging question so that he might be distracted from his powerful cravings. By eleven thirty, the stillness of the library began grating on him. He strolled restlessly to the lobby, telling himself that the books for sale needed to be straightened. Of course it just so happened that he had a perfectly unwrinkled dollar bill inside his wallet that would slide effortlessly into the snack machine’s slot in exchange for some crunchy, orange heaven. Checking over his shoulder to make sure that the twins were occupied, James fed the money into the machine