vol. 6, Chapter XVI — Of Library Rules and Early Presents

Another after-school day spent at the library, sitting by my wifey and sharing a blanket for our legs. Violet calmly worked on the computer, currently checking who needed a reminder that the books they took home needed to be returned. I, on the other hand, worked on my part of the school assignment we had due in the first week of December. That way, I could give Violet a hand in doing her part since she’s the one out of the two of us who has a busier schedule. As for the other members of our group, I was hoping Mathy and Stephen actually did some work instead of just couple stuff while Mathew… Well, lately he’s been busy with something I don’t think is just video games and has been strangely focused on getting things done to free up time. I don’t really know what’s up with him, and I also can’t seem to get a straight answer out of him, although Mathilda seems to know, but she’s also being strangely tight-lipped about it, too.

“Wanna cookie?” I ask Violet, offering one of my rice cakes.

She looks at it for a second, clearly not wanting it. I can’t blame her, they are quite bland by themselves. Still, out of solidarity for my diet—I got a bit “softer”, and the clothes we share have also gotten a bit tighter lately due to all the nice Autumn and Winter food I’ve been having together with all the snacking I do—she takes it and starts nibbling it along with me as she works.

I nibble mine, wishing for some strawberry jam to top it off with, but I remind myself that the reason why I’m eating them bland is precisely because of little things like that. A few extra calories here, a few extra calories there, and then a large meal, and bam! Things start to get a bit tight, and with Christmas coming up soon enough, I might start wearing my shorts and pants with the top button open in the New Year.

If we are headed to her place, I’m skipping rope once there.

The weather was still gloomy and threatening rain, so a walkie was out of the question. Besides, the days are quite dark by the time we leave class, let alone when we stay longer for her Committee work.

The sound of the door opening moves my attention to the entrance, four of our classmates walking in. It’s Vanessa and her friends. She freezes up for a second, looking in our direction. Then, her friends huddle up around her, and they start whispering while I pretend not to be looking at them through the corner of my eye. I can’t be too sure, but it looked like her friends were trying to convince her to step up and talk. One thing I’m sure of is that Vanessa was fidgeting a lot and shaking her head.

Curious…

Very, very curious indeed.

And during all this, Violet was focused on her work, not realising the little drama happening at the threshold until Vanessa’s friends stepped up to our desk, Vanessa standing behind them, looking everywhere but at us.

“Hey, Violet,” one of them said, Chloe. She was a blonde with light brown highlights in her hair that usually was beautifully combed, but lately was invariably all frazzled up due to the humidity. “Is it ok if we use the school computers, or are they already reserved?”

Violet looked away from her monitor, instantly recognising them and noticing how Vanessa stood behind them. She didn’t offer her usual professional smile, but her voice came as calm and collected as ever.

“I have to check to be sure, but I think it should be fine,” she told Chloe. “Two computers, correct?”

“Yes, please,” Chloe chirped. “Say, didn’t you have your hair done in a different style today?”

“Abby does my hair like this when I have Library duties,” she told them as she typed on the computer, her “sexy librarian” bun elegantly framing her beautiful face. “It doesn’t get in the way of my work like this.”

“Yeah, having long hair sometimes sucks,” Chloe said, giving a brief glance to Vanessa. “Mine’s a complete mess whenever it rains.”

“Ok, PCs five and six are free,” Violet told them, turning to face them. “I moved around the reservations a bit so you could sit side by side to work more easily.”

All of them shared a look of surprise at hearing that, even Vanessa lifting her head to look at Violet. Maybe they were still under the assumption that Violet isn’t that nice a person, or maybe they just weren’t expecting Violet to go that extra mile when Vanessa was involved.

Either way, they gave Violet a slightly flustered thanks before going to the corner of the library where the computers were, leaving Violet and I alone.

“…What?” she asked me, seeing that I wasn’t budging my eyes away from her. “Even if Vanessa was a pain, it doesn’t mean I won’t act professionally.”

“Still, you really didn’t need to go out of your way to have them sit all together, did you?”

She shrugged and went back to work. I thought that was the end of it before she looked at me and wondered if, deep down, she wanted to show Vanessa that she actually is a nice person, or that she’s not really holding a grudge against her.

“Maybe a bit of both?” I said as an answer as I leaned over to try to see at what point of her work she was at. “Close to finished?”

“Almost,” she told me. “Miss Maple was to show up because she wants some books to use as references for our tests, so—”

“—So you want to see which they are so you can study them and excel.”

“—So that’s the only thing missing today,” she said as her shoulders slumped and her head tilted to the side. “And don’t say stuff like that. As if I’d stoop that low when I don’t need to.”

I muffled my laugh and asked her when she had gotten this cocky, Violet grumbling for me to forgive her for finally actually having some self-confidence in her academics.

The door opened again, and as if on cue, Miss Maple walked in, her heels making a click-clack as she approached our table with a smile. She teased us about still being hip-to-hip even when Violet was the only one of us who needed to be here.

“By the way,” Miss Maple said, her voice dropping into an even lower tone as she leaned closer. “I saw Vanessa and her friends walking by while I was talking with a colleague. Did she come here?”

We gave her the brief version of what already was a short story, Miss Maple looking assured when we confirmed that it was all perfectly civilised and even positive.

“So, about those books you— Brr! Why is it always so cold outside the blanket?!” Violet gasped with a shiver as she got up, and the blanket slid off her legs.

To go home today, we were getting a ride from sis. She arrived right on time, and things were pretty much the same as usual, although I immediately noticed something different in her. She was talking normally enough, but there was a… “distant” quality about her today. A certain nervousness too.

“All right, sis, what happened?” I asked her midway through the drive home. “Was it something at work?”

“No, work was fine today,” she told me. “I even got a lady asking if I could play at her daughter’s wedding in the near future.”

“That’s nice!” I cheered, Violet, joining in and congratulating her. “So… Anything about Stan?”

“Are those really the only two options you have when I’m thinking about stuff?”

“So, it isn’t about Papa Stan?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Well… it kinda is,” she admitted, her face turning red. “More like… Stan-adjacent.”

I smirked at Violet, my wifey at first shaking her head before realising that I wasn’t silently asking her thoughts on my sister’s admission.

“What?” she asked, now getting a bit defensive.

I bumped into her as I hummed for her to pay me no mind. It was always so amusing to me how Violet and Sophie sometimes act in such a similar manner. That roundabout way of admitting that I was right but still making it sound like I’m not completely right never gets old.

“So? What is up, sis?”

After a bit of mulling it over while we were stopped at a red light, she pointed at a bag that I hadn’t noticed before on the seat by her side. She explained that she had no intentions of doing it, but while walking around the mall with Claire, she noticed a red scarf in one of the stores Claire was visiting. She ended up buying it for Papa Stan as a Christmas present, even though it’s still a long way off.

“You could just give it to him now as an early Christmas present,” I told her, trying to hold back my excitement. “It’s already plenty cold, and I never see him wearing anything around his neck, so I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been thinking about all this time,” she moans, resting her head against the cool glass of the car window. “I’m afraid he’ll see me as… I don’t know.”

“Desperate?” I asked.

“I was trying not to say it, you know?” Sophie said, giving me a glare through the mirror.

The start of our sisterly bickering was interrupted by Violet asking why Sophie thought a scarf was a good idea, to the point that she bought it on impulse.

“…He’s been complaining recently that his throat’s been sore lately,” she said, starting to turn red. “And I noticed he never wears anything around it, so… Also, I got him one in red. That’s his favourite colour, right?”

“Is it?” Violet hummed.

“I think so,” sis answered. “At least from what I’ve seen when around him, it looks like it.”

Even if it wasn’t, it still would be very well appreciated. Now, to create the opportunity for it, I needed some set-up.

I invited Sophie to stay a bit longer once we get to Violet’s place. That was always our first stop to check on Oliver, and since sis has such a deep affection for that fluff ball—a mutual one, I might add—that’d surely lead to her staying longer than she realised, resulting in her still being there once Papa Stan comes home.

“You say ‘play’, but all he seems to want to do ever since it got a bit colder is curl up in my lap and sleep,” Sophie giggled, likely already imagining the scene.

Step one was a success.

Arriving at Violet’s was the usual affair. No sign of Oliver at first, but as soon as we stepped into the living room where he slept when no one was home, he popped out of his bed, the blankie he slept under being dragged on top of him. He greeted us and sat down, looking up at us as if asking which one of us would be picking him up and cuddling him. We all crouched down to pet him, Oliver purring like crazy and moving around so we didn’t miss a single spot, the blanket eventually slipping out. I grabbed him once Violet said she’d check his sandbox and his bowls, and for me to start getting our blanket warm with my sister.

Sis and I sat and covered ourselves with the blanket, Oliver jumping into my sister’s lap once she tapped it. After he settled down, I covered him with his blankie, a soft cream-coloured one with brown pawprints on two corners of it. Soon after Violet joined in on the pile, Oliver started his high-pitched snoring. Sis had her head leaning on Violet soon after, as if Oliver sleeping on her lap made her feel sleepy in turn, too. Violet seemed a bit unsure what to do, but eventually settled down once she too started feeling drowsy. Suffice to say, when Papa Stan arrived, he had three beautiful girls and a snoring cat all napping on his couch.

Violet was the first one waking up, or whatever you wanna call the mess she is when she stops sleeping, sis following soon after, and me being the last one, Oliver staying fast asleep since we all were talking with hushed tones so that we wouldn’t disturb his beauty sleep. Sis was a bit flustered, likely due to having had Papa Stan see her sleeping face, but she was also happy for having the chance to chat with him a bit before she decided to head home.

“Are we staying here tonight, or are we going to my Dad’s?” I asked Violet while Sophie and Papa Stan had their own conversation.

“Hmm… Maybe your place?” Violet suggested. “I haven’t really had the chance to talk with your Dad the past few days.”

“But we’ve been having breakfast together in the last couple of days.”

“Yeah, and in what state am I in at that time of the day?”

That settled it, and I could move over to phase two of my plan: getting sis to give Papa Stan her present.

I started approaching the subject as softly as possible by simply asking sis if she wouldn’t grab the bag she left in the car. She gave me quite the stare, practically begging me in silence for me to leave it be, but I wasn’t feeling like letting her chicken out. I told her that it’d be better to do that now rather than leave it be for another month, especially for the reasons she got it. That got her fidgeting a bit as she was finding herself agreeing with me, but was still feeling embarrassed about it. That was my cue to give her a little push—a literal one—to get her up and moving, Oliver being passed over to my lap. I was in my special seat, so perhaps it’s better to say my wifey and I combined lap. Oliver curled himself even further than before once we settled him, and he let out a sighing purr as he went back to sleeping.

Sis returned, clutching the bag as she stood by Papa Stan, who finally realised that it was for him.

“What is it?” he asked, now also a bit flustered after sis finally extended the bag to him.

“J-just a scarf,” sis told him. “You’ve been complaining about your throat getting a bit sore lately, so…”

“I have?” he said as he took it out of the bag. It was a very soft-looking knit scarf in a warm red colour. He then put it around his neck to test it out. “Thank you, Sophie. It is a really nice one.”

My sister made the cutest little smile before she said that she was glad he liked it.

“You see, the three of us talked about Christmas presents not that long ago,” I began, still wanting sis to give more context about the gift. “The conversation stuck in Sophie’s head, so while shopping with Claire, she saw it and remembered all your complaining, so she got it for you as a Christmas present. She was a bit worried about you catching a cold though, so she decided to give it to you now.”

“Ah, I see,” he chuckled, sounding a bit relieved. “So, it is an early Christmas present.”

“Yup, yup. And in your favourite colour, right?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Hehe! See, sis? You guessed it right after all!”

My sister turned red as I said it, Stan looking at her, a bit surprised at first that Sophie managed to guess his favourite colour, but then it softened into something a bit sweet.

A present that came from concern after hearing him complain about something he hadn’t even realised he had complained about. A present in his favourite colour that came from someone who had guessed it from simply observing and spending time with him.

It was a present from someone who saw him, and he wasn’t used to it, at least not from someone who wasn’t my wifey and me, his “second daughter”.

Or at least that’s what I think was going on.

“Well then,” he said, slowly getting up and smiling at Sophie. “Looks like I’ll have to be extra thoughtful about my gift to you, don’t I?”

“Y-you really don’t have to,” she said in a small voice, trying to fight a smile and avoiding looking at his smile. “I’m not a little kid after all.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “Just a very kind young lady.”

“Now you’re just making fun of me,” she huffed with a small laugh.

He denied the accusation with another laugh, the mood between them turning something more playful and less awkward.

As for my wife, well, she clearly wanted to just get up and leave, but since I was between her legs and reclined against her chest, she really couldn’t, so she had to see those two idiots unknowingly flirting with one another. At least, that’s what I’d call it at that point, flirting, even if none of them was aware of that.