Senior Spies [FICTION]

“Uh-oh,” my cubicle mate says as I grab my mug and head for the break room.

“It’s nine in the morning and already a two cocoa day.”

“That’s Monday for ya.”

“Amen to that,” she grins at me and waves me on my way, “go before you become unpleasant.”

I giggle because she’s not wrong. My giggle tapers off as I approach the picture window overlooking the sidewalk outside. Someone paid to have a bench placed there. In the summer, I like to curl up on one end with a book during my breaks, but summer hasn’t arrived yet. A gust of wind blows droplets of spring rain across the two older gentlemen sharing the bench.

Neither reacts to the rain. In fact, I’d assume they were two strangers sharing a bench albeit in non-bench-worthy weather. But they keep talking to each other. They never glance at each other, but they take turns speaking. Had this phenomenon not caught my attention, I might have moved on to my cocoa infusion.  

As I vainly attempt to determine what words they are exchanging, I realize that the man on my left looks familiar despite the oversized hat valiantly keeping his face dry. I crouch down to peer up under the brim.

“Granpap!” I exclaim.

I don’t need to read lips to guess what they are up to. I storm back to my desk to claim my umbrella. My cubicle mate takes one look at me and suddenly becomes immersed in her work.

I hear her mutter, “Someone’s in trouble,” as I make my way to the exit.

Moments later I stand before my grandfather and his best friend Larry who happens to be the best baker in town. They look up at me in surprise, blinking as my umbrella diverts rivulets of rain to the space between them.

“Aren’t you a little old for spy games, boys?”

“I told you she’d make a fabulous nun just like Sister Mary What’s Her Name back in school.” Larry grins at me.

“Neither of you went to Catholic school. Now spill.”

“Better watch out. Librarians don’t use rulers, they use atlases. So much more surface area.” My grandfather feigns whacking someone with an oversized book.

I shake my head, “why are you comedians staking out my workplace?”

“This is a nice bench,” Larry offers.

“For sitting on,” Granpap adds with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

“Not in the rain,” I point out.

“Well, we didn’t think of that when we…”

“Made plans for sitting,” my grandpa interrupts.

“If you two fools get sick, I am not making you chicken noodle soup,” I turn on my heel and stalk back to the library entrance.

Speedy shuffling steps trail behind me. “Don’t be like that. You make the best chicken noodle soup.” My grandpa pleads.

“Yeah. Now that you mention it, I’d love some, but I don’t want to get sick to enjoy that soup. Mmm.” Larry adds.

“I’ll consider making a pot after work, but I want to know what you’re up to.” I lower my umbrella and shake it at them as we step inside. 

They exclaim in surprise and jump away from each other. I snicker and head into warmth and dryness. When they catch up to me, I wait with folded arms for answers. 

“Well, your birthday is coming up,” grandpa starts.

“And I wanted to bake you the perfect cake. Your grandfather suggested…”

“That we make it look like your favorite place,” he throws his arms out wide to indicate the library.

“That still doesn’t explain this,” I wave my own hands up and down in front of their dripping outfits.

“I wanted a good look at the outside and today was my only free day. Lots of cake tastings, you know.”

 

“It might be better not to try to surprise me,” I suggest as I lead them to the main desk and grab a pamphlet, “Because I could have saved you some effort. Look this over and I’ll see you both for dinner.”

They stare down at the library brochure which features color photos of our beloved building.

“She’s good.”

“Yeah. My granddaughter really is more of a librarian than a nun.”

—

A friend of mine mentioned that she might just stay engaged forever because it is easier than being married. Of course, now I wonder if my hubby will divorce me so we can be perpetually engaged and have a million cake tastings. That probably means I shouldn’t do a million dress fittings since they would become necessary.