Song: "Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg

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I was a bit startled on Monday morning when I reached the third floor and there he was, in his usual place; startled not by his presence, but by the fact that his hair was brushed and pulled back into a neat ponytail, the stubble was gone from his face, and it appeared that he had at least changed into clean clothes. He wore some wrinkled khakis that looked too big on him, a faded gray t-shirt, and the same worn out shoes. Maybe I could offer to buy him a new pair since what he was currently wearing hardly qualified as footwear. He was wearing the same green overcoat. I wondered if he had also taken a shower, but I wasn't going to go sniffing his armpits to find out. 

I walked over more confidently than I had in the past three weeks. "Good morning," I spoke. "I almost didn't recognize you." He looked up at me and, without seeing a smile on his face, I wondered if I had offended him somehow. "Your hair," I explained. "I like it pulled back like that. It looks good." That was all he needed to give me a rather remarkable smile in return, after which he turned back to his book.

"Do you mind if I ask what you're studying?" I ventured. 

He seemed to freeze, although he hadn't been moving much in the first place. Finally, he looked up and answered, "I'm not really studying anything. Just reading."

"Oh," I said, wishing he would have volunteered more information. "Those books must be really interesting." I did an internal face palm, thinking about how stupid that sounded.

"They are," he nodded and went back to reading while I went back to shelving. As I diligently went about my work, I could feel his eyes on me. I looked up and found him watching me carefully. When he saw that I noticed, he gave me a small grin and went back to reading. As another opportunity presented itself, I studied his face, his profile. He was much more handsome than I had first realized, which made me wonder all the more about his life and what compelled him to hole up here on the third floor day after day, week after week.

Tuesday and Wednesday, I brought him food and attempted to make conversation. He engaged, only enough to answer questions and give me minimal amounts of information. I was disappointed, but it really wasn't my business to know where he was from or what he was doing here every day. He was using the library's services and that's all I needed to know. Period.

I had actually managed to learn that he was originally from England, so I had been right about his accent. He told me that his family had moved to the US when he was still in high school, or secondary school, as he called it. He also said that his accent had been much stronger at first; I wondered how he must have sounded when he first arrived.

Near the end of the day on Wednesday, I received a page from Gabby at the front desk. When I approached, I slowed down a bit, staring in wonder. It was a similar feeling to when you're a kid and you see your teacher outside of school, or when you run into your doctor at the supermarket. I'd never seen him away from his hiding place in the stacks. It just seemed odd for a moment.

"Yes?" I said to Gabby.

She tipped her head towards The Man, saying, "This gentleman here wanted to speak to you. He was just telling me how kind you've been to him, offering to help him. Bringing him breakfast." She subtly raised her eyebrows at me and I knew I was in trouble. But I focused on The Man instead. 

"Hi, can I help you with something?" I asked sweetly. Standing in front of him, I realized how tall he really was. It also seemed that every time I looked at him, he seemed more handsome.

"Nothing at all," he spoke, giving me a tender smile. "You've already done so much. I just wanted to thank you. Sincerely. I appreciate your kindness." 

"You're welcome," I said, possibly sprouting a little blush on my cheeks. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Gabby watching closely. Beth had just returned to her station as well, so both were eyeing us intently, waiting to see what would happen. 

"You said your name was Regan? Is that right?" I nodded. "Nice to meet you, Regan. I'm Harry." He shook my hand briefly and then he turned and glanced at Beth and Gabby, tipping his head politely towards them. "You all have a good evening now. And thank you again, Regan." 

As soon as the door closed behind him, Beth said, "Dude, he's kind of cute."

"Kind of?" I said. "I never realized how attractive he was until he shaved and pulled his hair back. It makes me wonder why he dresses like that, with those baggy pants and those awful shoes."

"Clothes don't make the person," Gabby interjected.

"Well, I know that," I said. "It just doesn't add up. He's polite and well-spoken, but he dresses like a bum."

"That's because he is a bum," Gabby said, and now I hear the anger in her voice. "Exactly how long have you been housing a homeless person in our library?" 

I shook my head in dismay. "It's not like that, Gabby. He's been here studying for a few weeks-"

"A few weeks?!" She gasped, interrupting me. "And you never told me anything about him?" 

I closed my eyes and took a cleansing breath. After I blew it out, I opened my eyes and answered her. "He's not doing anything wrong. I just told you he's studying."

"Studying what?" She snapped. Beth kept her mouth shut tight, which I appreciated.

"I didn't ask him," I said. "I didn't want to be rude."

"It's not rude to ask a homeless man what business he has in a library. He was loitering. Period. And not only did you allow him to stay for who knows how many weeks, you also brought him food? I have a good mind to fire you right now for breaking the rules." 

I knew she wouldn't fire me, but I stood up straighter and attempted to speak as respectfully as possible. "I'm sorry about the food, Gabby. Really, I promise I won't do it again. As far as how long he's been coming here to study or how long he stays during the day, this is the first time in almost four weeks  that you even knew anything about him, so he clearly isn't causing any problems."

She opened her mouth in retaliation, but then she stopped herself. "Very well. But if he does cause any problems, even if it's just one time, he'll be banned from the library and you'll be out of a job." 

"It won't come to that, I assure you," I told Gabby. Then I hurried away to grab my coat so she couldn't scold me anymore. She and Beth were getting ready to leave, along with the other employees. I just wanted to get away from her as fast as I could. 

I stepped out into the brisk fall air, sucking in a fragrant breath. I loved the smell of fall, even though it was technically the smell of dying leaves. It just defined the season, along with the crunch of leaves under my feet, the changing colors, and the smell of all things pumpkin. 

I reached the end of the block when I noticed Harry sitting on a bench near the bus stop. He got up and walked towards me. I slowed down, not sure at first if he was coming towards me.

"Regan," he called out to me. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee? It's only fitting since you've brought me at least ten cups over the past few weeks."

I wasn't sure how to respond. I didn't want him to spend what little money he had on me. But it was a thoughtful gesture. Finally, I returned his expectant smile and said, "Sure. There's a place just a few blocks from here." 

As we strolled the city's sidewalks, I wondered if I should be more careful. The fact that I knew his name didn't make him any less of a stranger. Then again, it was still light outside, although it wasn't long before dusk, and the streets were fairly busy. It would be hard for him to do anything to me at this time of day.

I unwrapped my scarf as soon as we stepped into the warm little coffee shop. "What would you like?" Harry asked me, gesturing to the menu.

"Just a small half-caf cappuccino," I answered. 

He ordered the same for himself and we took a seat by the fireplace. This was the only coffee shop within walking distance that had one. The shop was rather small, so reading here wouldn't be my best bet, but for a simple cup of coffee, it was perfect.

"Do you live around here, Harry?" I asked, hoping I could finally find out if he was homeless or not.

"Not too far," he said vaguely. "How about you?" 

I cocked my head and said, "How do I know you're not a stalker or something?" 

"I didn't ask for your address," he chuckled. "But I can assure you that I'm not a stalker, nor am I a serial killer or a rapist. You'll just have to take my word unless you want to check my police records online," he said flatly. "I can give you my last name and my social security number." He took out his wallet and started to open it. "How about my driver's license?"

"That won't be necessary," I said with a small laugh. 

"Tell me about yourself," he said. 

"Not much to tell," I said. "I grew up near Troy, in a big farm house on five acres of land. I have three brothers and two sisters. I just graduated from Wayne State University with a bachelor's degree in American Literature. I'm hoping to get my Master's Degree in Library Science some day."

"So the library thing isn't just a job for you? It's a career," he observed.

"Something like that," I agreed. "I guess I'm not one hundred percent sold on Library Science, but I love books so it seems like a good match. That was the other reason I didn't want to rush right into a Master's Degree. I wanted to experience a bit more of the world first to see if I might find something else to devote my life to." 

He smiled warmly and I couldn't help but marvel at the deep dimple he had on the left side of his face. It was very pronounced when he smiled, which was happening more often now that we were getting to know each other a little. 

"That sounds like a very wise move," Harry said. "If you can support yourself, why not take a little time to explore what you might like to do?" When he lifted the coffee cup to his lips, I noticed that he had a small cross tattoo on his left hand between his pointer finger and his thumb. I didn't comment on it, but it caught my attention enough that I noticed another one on his wrist, most of which was covered by his coat. 

I was anxious to find out more about him, and I especially wanted to know if he was really homeless, but I couldn't decide if it would be rude to come right out and ask. So, I tried an open-ended question. "Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?" 

"There's not much to tell," he answered with a bit of a curtness in his tone that threw me off a little. 

"Can you tell me what you've been studying up there on the third floor?" I asked, trying another leading question. 

"I already told you, I'm not studying anything," he said and it sounded like he was growing impatient with me. I looked down into my lap and fidgeted with my hands, wondering if I should just gulp my coffee and get out of there. But then Harry's voice softened. "Look, I'm sorry if that sounded rude."

"It's okay," I replied, shaking my head and offering him a polite smile.

"I just don't really want to talk about myself right now. It's complicated. I'm just a very private person, I guess you could say. I'm glad I had a chance to get to know you a little after all the kindness you've shown to me."

"Well, you're welcome again," I said. "Thanks for the coffee." 

Harry held the door for me as we walked out. I turned in the direction of my apartment, but I stopped and asked, "Will I see you tomorrow?" 

With a nod and a slight smile, he answered, "Most likely." And then he walked away in the other direction. I wasn't sure what had just happened, but it felt...good.

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Sooo, they're getting to know each other a little, but he's holding back. Any ideas?