SUNNY: She loved books, but that didn't mean she had to work in a library forever

By Marilyn DeMars

Just because Sunny loves books doesn't mean she has to work in a library forever. A delightfully charming single woman, made of spunk and compassion, and love, still looks forward to reaching her lifelong dream despite a big setback in her past.

When she quits her librarian job to go to work for a troubled man named Garrett, she finds that

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jurnal Press
• Release date: Jun 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781955241199

Marilyn DeMars

Marilyn DeMars lives in Crystal, Minnesota with her husband Dick. With her passion for writing, she always has another novel in the making.

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Sunny

Sunny

She loved books, but that didn’t mean

she had to work in a library forever.

Marilyn DeMars

Sunny: She loved books, but that didn’t mean she had to work in a library forever. by Marilyn DeMars

This book is written to provide information and motivation to readers. Its purpose isn’t to render any type of psychological, legal, or professional advice of any kind. The content is the sole opinion and expression of the author, and not necessarily that of the publisher.

Copyright © 2021 by Marilyn DeMars

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any form by any means, including, but not limited to, recording, photocopying, or taking screenshots of parts of the book, without prior written permission from the author or the publisher. Brief quotations for non-commercial purposes, such as book reviews, permitted by Fair Use of the U.S. Copyright Law, are allowed without written permissions, as long as such quotations do not cause damage to the book’s commercial value. For permissions, write to the publisher, whose address is stated below.

First Published, 2011

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN: 978-1-955241-19-9 (E-book)

ISBN: 978-1-955241-20-5 (Paperback)

Published by Jurnal Press LLC

30 N Gould St. Ste R Sheridan, WY 82801

https://www.jurnalpress.com/

Acknowledgments

Thanks again and again, Dick (my husband, editor, and best friend), for both the fun and the no-kidding hard work of editing yet another of my books with me. You definitely make a girl’s computer keys go faster! Love you.

Thanks, Karen (my dear niece), for your very special contribution to Sunny. She and I are most lovingly grateful to you.

Thanks forever from my heart, Terry, Dennis, and Brian (my awesome adult children), for having always supported my writing over the years and given me added writer’s insight to the many ups and downs and merry-go-rounds of life. I love each of you for exactly who you are and would never ever trade any of you for fictional children.

Also by Marilyn DeMars

Sidetrack

The Way Back

I’ve Got This Brother

The Mistake

The Way Forward

For Brian Boylan . . .

an author acquaintance of mine

who many years ago, though since

passed, was the very first person

to make me sincerely believe

that I, too, was a writer.

Contents

Acknowledgments

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

1

I wish . . . I wish . . . I wish . . . Sunny Quinn whispered to herself as she stood at the front window of the library Monday night, looking out at the rain. Then she sighed at the realization of not even knowing specifically what she was wishing for. Despite her normally being a very contented person, there were times like this when an unexplainable feeling of emptiness suddenly came over her, sending her true essence into a momentary spin of frustration.

Though it was dark outside, the rain glimmered in the luminescence of streetlight and headlights of passing cars. It had been raining continually since she’d come to work at one o’clock, and now it was almost eight. It would undoubtedly still be raining when she went home at nine.

She slid a finger across her name badge imprinted with SUNNY, thinking how often people commented on how well they thought her name fit her or she fit. It was compliment beyond her sandy-blond hair, blue eyes, dimpled smiles, and good health, as she’d been blessed with a naturally cheerful and caring disposition. Being nice came easily to Sunny and she used it well on her job—minding the front desk, greeting people answering questions, doing book searches, assisting with computer tasks, and simply inspiring others to feel happy. At the moment however, staring out at the dismal night was enough to bring anyone down, even someone like her.

During the entire time that she’d been gazing out into the sodden night, she’d noticed the blurred form of a man standing on the sidewalk across the street. Hunched into the neck of his jacket, he seemed to be doing nothing other than just standing there in one place getting drenched. Why? How pitiful. She couldn’t help feeling moved by the scene.

Her desk phone rang and she hurried across the room to get it. Someone wanted to know the library hours. Just as she finished giving then and was hanging up, the front door opened and the man she’d been watching from the window came in. At least she thought it was him.

Yes . . . wet and pitiful, it was him.

He wiped his shoes on the entrance rug then slowly lifted his gaze looking about as if he wasn’t really sure where he was. He seemed surprised upon finding it to be a library, which probably meant he was seeking shelter rather than a book. Sunny gave him one of her best librarian smiles when he glanced her way, but he didn’t return one.

She watched him go to a reading table, where he took off his jacket, shook the rain from it, hung it on the back of a chair, and sat down. He ran his fingers through his dark wet hair. Then without a book he just sat staring at the tabletop, seeming noticeably dispirited.

Sunny couldn’t help wondering what might be going on with him. She figured him to be, like her, in his early forties. Slender. Boyishly handsome. No. wedding ring. Maybe he’d just come from a fight with his girlfriend and she’d thrown him out into the rain. Since he had the tender look of a guy who would never initiate a fight, Sunny was already taking his side. What can I do? I need to do something. Maybe get a hot cup of coffee from the break room and take it to him?

A little obsessed, are we? Olivia Clemmons intruded on Sunny’s fixation.

Sunny looked up sheepishly. Oh, uh . . . I was just . . .

"So what do you think? Homeless man?

No, Sunny responded quickly. I think he’s just wet and cold and sad.

Olivia, a vibrant dark-haired woman, also in Sunny’s age group, was the library’s evening supervisor. Though she was very likeable at times, she too often flaunted an uppity display of superiority.

He’s not your type, she boldly told Sunny.

Their being good friends as well as co-workers, Sunny chose to take it at teasing and dished it right back. Could he be yours?

"Jack is mine."

Ah, yes, that’s right. You have the one and only perfect man in the whole world—your husband Jack.

Olivia smiled proudly and brushed a fiber of lint off her suit lapel. Possibly, quite possibly. And though I’m sure you’d also like to have as much, please be careful in your search.

I’m not searching! Sunny said defensively. Jeez.

Look at him, Olivia motioned in the direction of the wet visitor. He’s homeless person if I ever saw one.

You’re laying judgment on our patrons now?

As a supervisor, yes, it’s my duty. Look at him sitting there dripping on our furniture and carpeting. And he certainly isn’t reading a book, is he?

Well, he—

He’s loitering.

You can’t be sure of that.

Oh, but I am. Thus I’m going to keep a very close eye on him. Olivia started away, then paused. "In the same respect, for safety’s sake I think it’s best you keep your eyes off of him."

Sunny gave a sigh of relief as her boss left. She liked Olivia, except for this side of her. If only Olivia really knew how unflattering it was to herself, overplaying her library position so haughtily. A man innocently comes into the library seeking shelter from the storm and right of she’s down on him. It didn’t make sense. Nor did her coming down on Sunny for looking at him.

Sunny shifted in her chair, swiveling slightly to the right. As though totally powerless against it, her gaze returned to the wet, bookless man sitting at the table across the room. What is it about him? Why do I feel such a strong desire to do something for him?

When he casually glanced her way, catching her looking at him, she self-consciously swiveled her chair toward the wall. I’m not ogling him, I’m not! I’m just curious. There’s a difference.

At nine o’clock closing time, rain man, as Sunny’d mentally tagged the guy who’d come in from the storm, got up to leave. He passed the front desk, giving her a brief, empty look. His impassiveness bothered her more than shed hated to admit. And on top of that it bothered her that she should even feel bothered by it. Why did he stir such a reaction in her? He was just some guy, a species she’d long ago given up on.

Okay, he was out the door, gone like an unresolved mystery that’d dropped in and out of her life just to tantalize her. Oh well, interesting but forgettable.

By ten after nine she and Olivia were hurrying through the rain to their cars in the side parking lot. Besides the rain, it had turned much colder since mid afternoon. Sunny regretted not having worn a heavier jacket to work. She didn’t like that the beautiful autumn was already beginning to hint at winter.

The women said good night to one another, got into their cars, and went their separate ways. Olivia had a husband and a son and a house on one side of Plymouth, a northwest suburb of Minneapolis, and Sunny lived alone in a tiny efficiency apartment a mile away from her.

Feeling more tired than usual when she got home this night, Sunny changed into pajamas and went straight to bed without fixing a snack or turning on the TV news. In the smallness of her one-room apartment, her bedroom was one side of the living room and kitchenette the other. I was very small, but cozy in its way.

Expecting to fall asleep the minute she laid down, her state of mind instead clicked from sleepy to hyper. Mental visions of the wet and forlorn-looking guy at the library were bothering her. She didn’t want to be bothered. What is he doing to me? What am I doing to myself? Stop it.

And then her ex-husband Logan pressed into her chaotic mind. How disappointed she’d been in him because of the way he’d completely changed for the worse after they’d married. How miserable she’d been, staying under both his physical and mental abuse for five years. Yet when he unexpectedly died of a heart attack three years ago, she was shattered. If their relationship had been doomed to end, it at least shouldn’t have ended that way.

Logan’s death wasn’t the only shock he’d left her with. Soon after he was gone Sunny learned that he’d left her responsible for a dept of ten thousand dollars, a gambling debt he’d secretly run up behind her back. And now, after three years of making as many payments toward it as she could, it barely seemed to be going down. For all the rings he’d failed to give her, he’d been overly generous in giving her this.

Despite Sunny’s disappointments of years back, her spirit had risen above them so that today she sustained both an inner and outer glow in finding simple gratitude everywhere.

She wished Olivia felt as much. She was pretty when she wasn’t scowling, was a shapely size four, had a wonderful loving husband, a darling teen-age son, and a beautiful old Victorian house. What more did that woman want? A better attitude would be Sunny’s wish for her.

***

It was after ten-thirty when Olivia arrived home. Jack was still up, reading in the living room. He didn’t even look up. Kent, their fifteen-year old, was sprawled on the couch, texting on his cell phone.

Olivia stood in a petrified sort of silence, observing the familiar scene that irked her time and time again. She exploded first to Kent, School tomorrow! Go to bed! Now!

And grindingly to Jack she said, I thought you had an early meeting at the law firm in the morning.

No, problem. I’m getting used to only four or five hours of sleep a night.

Fine! she snapped.

On her way upstairs, she felt sure Jack was planning to sleep on the couch again, and that was fine with her. She didn’t care to be near him anyway right now. She didn’t want to face the chance of their getting into a late-night argument. Nor did she want him to notice the liquor on her breath from the two Margaritas she’d stopped for on her way home.

Good night, Mom, her lanky, sweet-faced son said, passing her in the second-floor hall on the way to his room, texting as he walked.

Right, she said back to him. She didn’t bother giving him a motherly smile because he was too wrapped up with his cell phone to have caught it anyway.

Olivia entered the master bedroom and slammed the door behind

her.

2

Tuesday evening Garrett Wilson wandered around his house discomforted by a headache and a tightness throughout his body. He was feeling a reoccurrence of the panic attack that had struck him right about this time last night. For over a month he’d barely left his house, clinging to solitude as a comforting mainstay to coping with his depression. But lately it was starting to have the opposite effect on him, turning him more claustrophobic than serene.

Determined not to let either rule the rest of his life, last night he suddenly decided to break out. Though it’d been pouring rain, he charged out of the house forcing himself to take a walk. Without any notion of where he was going, he unexpectedly ended up at the library when the rain become too much for him. And while getting warm and dry inside it, he was surprisingly overwhelmed at discovering almost as much peacefulness there as at home. Though there were people about, they were self-involved either looking for books or reading books. Nobody bothered him. He’d liked being there and tonight wanted to be there again.

He pulled open the front door of the library and stepped inside, liking the immediate familiarity he felt with it this time. The same librarian as last night was seated at the front desk, and she gave him hat lovely smile of hers again. Though his own face was incapable of smiling these days, he acknowledged her with a slight tip of his head as he walked by.

Hello again, she sang out to him.

Garrett didn’t answer. Though he remembered her, it took him by surprise