It's a nice library, especially for such a small town, with plenty of everything, but a focus on science and poetry, a well-appointed children's' section, a nice selection of music and holovids, and comfy chairs offering varying amounts of privacy.
Right now, though, it's closing time; the announcements have been made, the final checkout rush handled, and now the librarian is making one last check before she locks up for the night.
She takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "We want - I want - you to have a good life, Nova, and that means being able to do what you want to - being free to, and knowing how to, both. You should have had people to help you with that, growing up - it's normal to have parents and teachers who do. And I think you did very well for yourself in the situation you were in, but it was an awful situation, and it shouldn't have been like that, you should have had that help."
"I-" he starts, then stops, not sure what he was going to say. "There was-" he shakes his head abruptly, he doesn't want to think about that, much less talk of it.
He presses his eyes closed and leans a little towards Daisy.
She takes her hand back and replaces it with a hug. "I'm sorry, hun. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
He nods, a little tiredly, and stays leaning against Daisy. It's a little strange, just how easy it is to just be here.
She holds him until the smell of garlic bread suffuses the room. "We should get that."
He nods, pulls away a little reluctantly, but they do need to get the garlic bread.
She takes the tray out and sets it on the counter. "You might need to use something to protect your hands; touching something this hot would burn Pradnakt, but I'm not sure about you. You can use the dish towel for now, anyway."
He nods. "I- never been burnt before?" he says. "But never-" he gestures at the tray and oven.
"Better to be safe, then. Pradnakt can heal you, but burns hurt pretty badly. Do you want another piece now?"
He thinks about that for a moment. (He doesn't need it. He's had enough food. But he does want it.) "Please?"
"All right." She gets down a small plate and lets him watch her use a spatula to transfer it. "You should probably give it a minute to cool," she says, handing it to him, "and I'll put the rest of these in the refrigerator for later; you can heat them up just the same way when you want one."
He smiles at her as he takes the plate. "Thank you."
He'll make his way back over to the table to eat it.
It's so good when he's happy.
She comes by the table after a minute: "I should take care of my chores, next. Do you want to come with me? I can wait for you to be done."
"If you don't mind waiting?" he says. Hesitates. "I can- come find you? When I'm done?"
"How about I go get started on the garden, and you can come help me with the animals whenever you're ready?"
"All right. Bring Jasmine's scraps when you come, please." And out she goes.
He gives the garlic bread another minute before he eats it. He does eat quickly - but it's less rushing and more eating something he really enjoys - before cleaning the plate - managing to persuade himself to leave it to drain rather than immediately dry it and put it away - grabs Jasmine's scraps and makes his way outside with them.
Daisy's about a third of the way through the garden; she's been taking her time. She stands when she sees him coming, leaving the watering can to mark her place, and goes to meet him at the door of the barn.
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