The Librarians And the Advent List

Dec 9

He'd ended up oversleeping and it was 10am before he got into the Library, carrying a peace offering of tea and a scone for Cassandra. He found the Annex deserted save for the smells of something baking. He followed his nose to the kitchen where Cassandra was pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven.

He waved at her. "Morning, I brought you some food but I think you have it covered."

She smiled cautiously. "Well, these aren't exactly breakfast. Let me get this batch in the oven."

She was being skittish and he understood. She didn't quite know what she was dealing with. She came over and took his offering with a smile, sitting next to him on a stool at the table.

"Where are the others? I figured Jones would be hovering."

She chuckled. "He was going to, but Flynn suddenly decided he had something he wanted Ezekiel to help with. And Baird decided she wasn't going to let those two off on their own. Jenkins is in his lab."

"Ah, lucky Baird." Stone shuffled his feet and finally decided to bring up his actions. "I'm really sorry about yesterday, Cassandra."

"It's okay. I'm sorry if I did something to upset you."

"It wasn't you."

"You got really upset when I called you Jake. I'm sorry, that slipped. I know you prefer Jacob."

"From you, I do. The folks back home, they called me Jake. Except my granny. But I kinda . . .I left that name behind me with everything else. Does that make sense?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry I won't . . . ."

"You don't have to be sorry, you can call me anything you like. Alright? That wasn't . . .it weren't you who upset me. It's not your fault. It wasn't even the angel's."

"The angel reminded you of something."

"My momma. She had an angel a lot like that. It belonged to her granny. She loved that thing. And he . . .he . . ." Jacob's voice broke. "He broke it."

"Your father?" Cassandra asked softly.

He nodded. "The Christmas after she died. My oldest sister decided it would be a good idea to put a tree up. Pop came home drunk and saw the angel and . . . ." Jacob closed his eyes in pain. "He went into a rage and threw it against the wall."

"Why?" Cassandra muttered, not even sure why she asked.

"Pop loved Momma. Only thing my old man loved more than his business. And losing her? It broke him. He was never the same. And my sisters, they make that excuse constantly for him. But we all lost her too and we didn't . . . ."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen . . . and I got a whipping when I cried over that damn angel for being a sissy. And I knew better, I was too old to cry."

Cassandra shook her head and then she put her arms around him. "You are never too old to cry."

And she held him until a very discouraging burning smell filled the kitchen.

"Oh God, the cookies!" Cassandra pulled away, wiping her eyes. He went to help her and they both stood there, looking dismayed. Cassandra, over emotional, actually looked like she was going to cry.

"Okay . . . ." Stone took a deep breath. "We'll make some new ones. And you know what? I know my momma's secret recipe. Let's do that, okay?"

"Thank you," she sniffled.

He shook his head. "Nope. You're the one who needs to be thanked. So thank you, darlin'. For everything. Now, let's get this mixed up while we wait for those to cool enough to throw them away."

He grabbed a new mixing bowl and they went to work. Making a new memory to chase away a bad one.