The Prophecy Series: Pinespoint

IVY

The library was quaint, carrying the scent of aged books. It was a comforting aroma that took me back to simpler days.

In high school, I’d often find solace in the library, immersing myself in the world of fiction. Mostly because I knew there was no one waiting for me at home. My parents were always traveling for my father’s work, leaving me with the penthouse staff who weren’t exactly chatty.

Stepping into the library, I was instantly smitten. It was tinier than any library I’d been to before, but that only made me love it more.

It was small and deserted, much like the rest of the town. A strange sensation stirred within me; was it happiness? Or was I just starting to appreciate this place?

Five rows of shelves were packed with a variety of books, and five vacant desks were arranged in front of them. A desk with a computer was tucked against the far-left wall, and a bulletin board and counter occupied the small wall opposite. A desk greeted you as you entered, the walls were a gentle gray, and the carpet was a deep blue. The desks, shelves, and counters were crafted from light oak wood.

“Hello,” a voice chimed from beside me. I turned to see a tall, slender woman about my age. Her long, wavy blonde hair and green eyes were strikingly beautiful.

“Hi,” I responded shyly.

She offered me a soft smile before stepping out from behind the counter to stand before me. I was surprised I hadn’t noticed her earlier.

“You must be the new girl,” she said gently. Her southern accent was charming and captivating.

I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get used to the accents, but I was finding myself falling for them.

“I suppose so,” I agreed. “I moved into the cabin on Stuart Drive a few days ago.”

“Ah, that old place. I bet Buddy, the general store owner, has already filled your ears with stories about it.” She laughed.

“He did,” I admitted. “He’s adamant that I should tear it down.” I chuckled.

“His family used to own that whole acre but sold it in the ‘90s. He grew up there and even helped his uncle maintain the cabin. I think it holds some memories for him,” she explained. That made more sense, though I didn’t understand why Buddy hadn’t just bought the cabin himself.

“Interesting,” I commented.

“I’m Ella Mae,” she introduced herself, extending her hand for a shake. It was then that I noticed her resemblance to Ellison.

“Are you related to Ellison Montgomery?” I inquired.

“Yes, that’s my baby brother.” She laughed. “I assume Buddy introduced you two?” she asked.

“Yes, he’s helping me winterize the cabin,” I shared.

“Ah, well my brother is the perfect guy. He and Buckley have built quite a few houses together. They even helped build the library furniture with my dad,” she elaborated, returning behind the counter.

“Would you like to apply for a membership? We may be small, but we can request books from larger libraries in nearby cities and order books for purchase,” she offered, picking up a small card.

“Yes, I’d love to get a membership,” I agreed, nodding.

I had a feeling I’d be spending a lot of time here. Maybe it was the smell, or perhaps it was because I’ve always seen libraries as safe havens.

“Awesome,” she beamed, grabbing a pen. “First and last name?” she asked.

“Ivanna Orlov.”

“I already have your address, so no need for that,” she said, swiftly jotting it down on the card.

“Phone number?” she asked, and I provided it.

“Email address?” I quickly recited it to her, and she wrote it down.

“All right.” She nodded after completing the card.

“You’re Russian, I assume?” she asked as she began typing on the old computer beside her.

“Yes, my father is.”

“And your mother?” she inquired. Her curiosity about me was a bit odd, but I couldn’t blame her. I was new to a town that seemed to have a low population, and she was the fourth person I had met since my arrival.

“No, she’s American. She grew up in California where she met my father,” I explained briefly.

I didn’t really want to delve into my personal life. It wasn’t that exciting, though everyone seemed to think so. People in Hawaii were always curious about my Russian upbringing.

“So, you moved here from California?” she asked as she continued typing on the computer.

I didn’t mind her questions, and I didn’t mind answering them. I wasn’t sure why I was sharing this with her, but much like Ellison, I felt at ease around her.

“No, I lived in Hawaii for two years before coming here.”

“Hawaii,” she echoed, nodding. “I went there on my honeymoon a while back.” She smiled.

“It’s a beautiful place,” I agreed.

“Why move here? I mean, this place is the last place I’d pick to live after staying in Hawaii.” She laughed.

“I grew up in the city, and when I moved to Hawaii, I quickly became an island girl, but neither of those lifestyles seemed to fit. I moved here on a whim. Not sure why, but I stumbled upon the cabin and thought, why not. Here I am. In the middle of nowhere with a cabin that is literally falling apart.” I laughed.

“Hey, whims are great. I met my wife on a whim,” she mused with a bright smile. I could see her love for the woman.

After she handed me my laminated library ID card, she let me browse as she prepared to close up. I checked out two books. One on renovating old homes and the other was a fantasy novel. I’d never really read those before but thought, why not give it a shot. Another whim.

I bid her goodbye and headed to my car, driving back to my cabin. I had a feeling that we could become good friends, even though I wasn’t looking to make friends. I still felt drawn to her.