As she’d told Ryne, it really was too long. Finally, she gave up trying to create a style and twisted it into a messy bun on top of her head, secured in place with a clip. A few stray strands fell about her face in soft curls so she tucked them behind her ears, knowing they would probably work free before she even left the cabin, but not really caring that much. Who was she trying to impress anyway?
Dressing in jeans and her favourite red top, Mel grabbed her laptop and purse, filled her travel mug with coffee, and headed out the door.
*****
The bell tinkled softly, as she pushed open the door of the Stump River Gazette. Beth looked up and smiled with considerably more enthusiasm than she usually did; she got to her feet, and hurried across the room.
“Mel, I’m so glad you’re here! Can you do me a favour? Josh broke a tooth last night and had to go into Timmins to get it taken care of and it’s Wednesday. The weekly paper has to be delivered and I was hoping you could man the office while I do the rounds?” She paused for breath and looked at Mel with hopeful expectation.
Only momentarily taken aback by the rush of information, Mel agreed. “Sure, I’d be happy to help out. You’ve been letting me hook up to your internet every day for free; this is the least I can do.”
“Oh thank you! I was thinking I’d have to lock up the office. It’s not like we get a ton of business, but I still hate not to be open, just in case.” Beth beamed and looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Just tell me what I have to do.” Mel placed her things on a table at the back that the Kennedy’s had set up as her temporary ‘office.’ Rubbing her hands together, she walked back to the front counter, pleased to be able to pay them back in some small way for the hospitality they’d shown her.
“Well, it’s pretty simple. A few people might come in to buy a copy of the paper—it’s a dollar—and possibly a few advertisers might stop in. If they feel there was a problem with the layout of their ads, or if they want to buy more space, just get their name, make a note of what the issue is and say I’ll get back to them. Umm...” She looked around for a minute obviously thinking if there were any other jobs. “Answer the phone and take any messages and, of course, if a ‘really big’ story happens, grab a camera from my desk drawer and go take a picture of it.” Beth laughed. “Not that we ever have any real news, but you never know!”
With that she gathered up a bundle of papers and left.
Shoving her hands in her pocket, Mel looked about the office. So...she was in charge. For a moment she surveyed her domain, rocking back and forth on her heels and wondering what to do. Since there really was nothing to keep her busy, she headed to her own table to set up her laptop. From what she’d observed over the past week, life was pretty calm at the paper. She could easily do a bit of work while simultaneously watching the front counter.
In no time at all, she had her word processing program up and running, the outline of her article on Ryne before her. Hovering her fingers over the keys, she wondered what to type. She knew so little about the man. Wracking her brain, she decided she could include a bit about how he was renovating that big old house. Mentally she formed a picture of the place and began to record some ideas.
*****
By mid-morning, Mel had answered the phone four times and sold about a dozen papers as well as writing down a concern about a misspelled name in one of the articles. She’d also exhausted her meagre knowledge of Ryne’s home renovations and had even listed the names of some of the books she’d found on his library shelf. That information was probably of no value, she told herself, but you never know.
Saving the file, she connected to the internet, thinking she’d pass some time there learning more about Lycanthropy, having recalled that Ryne had a book on the subject. Soon she was immersed in the subject, still finding it hard to believe anyone would spend so much free time creating a mythical world inhabited by people who turned into animals. It was utterly ridiculous, but still fascinating, fiction. There were even sites that you had to apply to, complete with proof you were a werewolf, before they’d allow you access to the data in certain sections.
Mel shook her head as she examined the application form. They wanted your family tree so they could prove your blood line—as if! Still, it was a cute gimmick. She wondered if anyone ever actually applied and what would happen as a result. On a whim, she decided to fill one out. If nothing else, it would give the webmaster a chuckle that someone had actually tried.
She just finished pressing send, when Beth returned. She plopped down beside Mel with a happy satisfied look on her face. “Hi! How’d you make out?”