One Degree of Separation by Karin Kallmaker Read Free Book Online Page A

least not right now. She doubted either patron cared that significant federal funds would be withheld if the Internet filters weren’t defaulted to On at every workstation.
    “What we don’t know we can’t be compelled to tell.”

    Neither patron seemed particularly mollified, but they went back to their browsing and Marian returned to her shared stint at reshelving. It was such a bitch when the circulation clerks were collectively unreliable. The usually steady Toni had been out sick a lot lately, too, and with students gone for the summer it was difficult to find substi-tutes.
    Eric emerged from smallest of the three study rooms, smiling pleasantly at the latest job applicant. Even from across the floor, Marian could see he wasn’t impressed. Mary Jane, the library manager, likewise had that stiff what-a-waste-of-time look that had taken Marian two years to learn to read.
    After the applicant had left, Marian joined them. “Let me guess. She wants to be a librarian because of the serene quiet and getting to read books all day.”
    “And she thinks working with the public will be fun.” Eric sighed heavily.
    “She obviously hasn’t before,” Marian muttered. “Sorry. I just hate to see another wide-eyed librarian hopeful crushed by reality.” Mary Jane pushed her glasses into position. “It’s not a career for the weak-at-heart. Thank you, Eric. Marian, you sit in on the next one at two.”
    Marian trailed after Mary Jane into her office. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to do it.”
    “Have you?” Mary Jane beamed. “I think it’s an excellent decision. Make some capital off that master’s in history you went to such trouble to get.”
    Marian basked in Mary Jane’s approval. She was both friend and mentor. “I’ll have that recommendation letter for you to sign some time next week. The application isn’t due for the fall semester until then.”
    “So I’ll have another Master of Library and Information Science working for me who’ll want a promotion.” Mary Jane arched an eyebrow. “Might even be after my job.”
    “I would never do that—oh. You are such a tease.” 

    Mary Jane’s neutral expression didn’t alter. “So I’ve been told.”
    “By whom?”
    “Don’t be impertinent.”
    Marian went back to the book carts with a giggle in her throat.
    Mary Jane could give off that reserved, cool, asexual vibe all she wanted, but Marian had seen her in her leathers.
    A voice rose from the direction of the reference desk. “You must be kidding!”
    Marian peered through the shelving to see what the problem was.
    Oh, now that was poetic justice. Bill, the lazy lizard, was the recipi-ent of Seventh Dimension Bitch’s current frustration. They deserved each other. Let Bill show her how to use the new software.
    She was shelving a volume on medical politics when she remembered the book Fresh Meat—really, she scolded herself, you can’t call her that—had needed yesterday. She’d probably like this one as well. Libby Peel, she recalled, from her hurried glance at the woman’s license. If Peel came in again, Marian would point the book out. Reader advisories in nonfiction were her specialty. She didn’t want to be a library manager like Mary Jane—too many stressful administrative details, not to mention having to always be poised, cool and more dressed up. Library managers did not get to gad about in shorts and tank tops when it was ninety. A collection manager, now that had appeal. She could debate collection development policy all day and go back after dinner for more.
    Getting her M.L.S. was the right thing to do. Besides, she had the time to do it. She ought to have done it when Robyn left. If she had, she’d be done now.
    The bridge has seen that water, as Gran always said. She would start this fall and in two years be done.
    There, she told herself. You’ve taken control of your life.
    Remember to stop at Hy-Vee on the way home for cream and everything will be