Lakeshore Christmas by Susan Wiggs Page A

She could probably find a position in another town, or at the college in New Paltz, but working in this particular place was so much more than a job to her. And it was about to be taken away.
    She couldn’t imagine her life without this library. What would she do every day? Where would she go? Who would she be? She refused to imagine it. But that was just denial, wasn’t it? It was time to face the cold, hard facts. By year’s end, the library would be closed. She had to quit hoping for a miracle.
    As she put on her things and prepared to leave, her gaze slipped once again over the dimly lit stacks. The wisdom of the ages lived there, philosophers and scientists, poets and playwrights and novelists, the best minds of humanity. Shouldn’t the answers lie in one of these books?
    Wandering between the rows of shelves, she wentthrough a ritual she’d been enacting since she was a girl. Whenever she had a problem or question turning over and over in her mind, she would close her eyes and select a random book from the shelf. With eyes still closed, she would let it fall open, and without peeking put her finger on a passage. Then she’d open her eyes and read the book’s advice. It was just a game, yet it was uncanny how much she’d learned simply by opening her mind and opening a book.
    She couldn’t imagine what advice might possibly save her from her current troubles, but force of habit ran strong. She shut her eyes and skimmed her fingertip along the spines of the books, stopping between heartbeats. She quickly extracted a volume from the shelf. She heard another fall to the floor, a corner of the book hitting her foot.
    “Ow!” she said, her eyes flying open.
    Now she had a dilemma. Which was more random, the book in her hands or the one at her feet?
    She let the book in her hands fall open and, without looking, ran her index finger partway down the page. Then she looked down to see what would be revealed to her.
    There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened.
    “Thank you, Douglas Adams,” she murmured to the late author, flipping the book over to check out his photo. “You’re no help at all.” She reshelved the book, carefullylining up its spine on the old oak shelf. Then she picked up the book that had fallen to the floor: Words to Live By: A Compendium.
    Well, that didn’t even belong here in adult fiction. It had been misshelved.
    This was a common occurrence in any library, but there had always been rumors afoot that the place was haunted. In a building like this one, filled with whispering marble halls and papery echoes, such fanciful talk couldn’t be avoided.
    As she hastened to the aisle where the book properly belonged, she glanced down at the page that had fallen open, read the line indicated by her thumb in the margin.
    If you never did, you should. These things are fun, and fun is good. The statement was attributed to Theodore Seuss Geisel—better known as Dr. Seuss.
    Fun is good. A tiny chill touched the back of her neck. Maybe her thumb was really pointing to the next entry: Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.—Anais Nin.
    Snapping the volume shut, she put the book away and left the library through the staff-only back door, locking it behind her.
    As she headed into the dark night, her mobile phone sounded with her sister Janet’s ring tone—“Shattered” by the Rolling Stones. She pulled her glove off with her teeth, fished out the phone and flipped it open. “Hey.”
    “Hey, yourself. I was just wondering if you’d had dinner yet.”
    Maureen’s stomach was in knots. She couldn’t imagine eating anything. Ever again. “I’ve already eaten.”
    “Oh. I just wondered if you wanted to drive over andgrab something. Karl is going to be