The Will to Love

Chapter One

"... and they lived happily ever after." Jaymes Nichols allowed the pages of the children's fairytale book she held in her lap to flutter closed. Her godson, Wesley, was already fast asleep in his blue and red, checkered racecar bed, with his teddy bear, Ben Beary, tucked nicely into his side. She returned her glance back to the book, titled Fred and Friends: Their Great Adventure with a drawing of a diverse group of children decorating the front cover. Careful not to wake the sleeping child beside her, Jaymes flipped open the book and read the story silently to herself. As she reached the part in the story where the group rescued a pair of puppies from a tall tower, she felt her interest waning slightly and closed the book with a tired sigh. She bent down and wedged the book in the bookshelf, gently prying the books apart to allow in space. Jaymes cast another glance at Wesley before creeping out of the bedroom and closing the door behind her without a sound.

She walked the narrow hallway towards the sprawling living room which bled into a small dining area and partitioned kitchen. Wesley's babysitter, Adele, sat cuddled on the couch with the blue light from her phone illuminating her face.

"Adele," Jaymes called for the girl's attention. Adele sat up on the couch to face her as she approached. "I put Wes to bed so you should have a pretty calm night. I'm going to head down to the shop for a little while. If you need anything, just call, yeah?" Jaymes said. Adele nodded with a small smile before returning her attention back to her phone, frantically typing away. Although the girl had already turned away, Jaymes still smiled at her and shook her head, amused at her behavior.

Jaymes grabbed her purse from the hook beside the door and left the upper apartment. Wesley's parents, Diana and Martin Ware owned a quaint bookshop that doubled into a garden below their apartment. On a Monday night like this, she didn't expect to find the shop crawling with customers and yet it was, as she stepped down the last step on the staircase and pushed open the door to the shop.

The front desk stood in the floor's center, with the traffic circulating around it. A small hallway, blocked off by a tall bookshelf, held the restrooms, a closet and a door to the upper levels, only opened by key. Lines upon lines of bookshelves framed the floor, punctuated only by double doors leading to the gardens surrounding the area. Jaymes walked further onto the floor, taking in the newly decorated shop. Flaming suns and brightly colored sunglasses decorated the front desk and window panels, celebrating the beginning the summer season. Jaymes wandered past the rotunda, towards the row of bookshelves on the right side. She trilled her fingers against the rough spines of the books, savoring the sensation of the rough leather against her rough skin. Gold, cursive letters against purple binding soon caught her eye, and she reached for the book. She pried the book out of its spot and read the title aloud to herself. "Eyes Like Yours by... E. Wells? Nice."

Clutching the book to her chest, Jaymes went off in search for a private study room to devour the book for the next few hours. Peering past the bookshelves at an empty study room, Jaymes approached the front desk.

"Hey Kim. Can I get the key to..." Jaymes strode forward, wanting to get a better glimpse of the room number. "Room 3." She returned to the desk. The receptionist bent down and pulled open a drawer, rifling through it for a few seconds before handing over the single key. Jaymes thanked the woman with a smile and went in search for the study room. She had already rifled through the pages of the book as she walked towards the study room. She looked up briefly to place the key in the lock and push open the door before she was glancing back down at the book and pulling a chair towards her with the edge of her foot.

"Excuse me, ma'am." Jaymes heard a woman clear her throat. She glanced up and looked around at the small study room. "This room is in my use." She heard the voice again, now from behind her. Jaymes whipped around to face the woman, who crouched at the corner of the room with several books at the feet and a file bursting with crinkled paper. The woman was between forty or fifty, with her hair in greying Bantu knots, eyes hidden behind yellow tinted glasses and a flowing dress that spilled across the floor, to the door and Jaymes' feet.