He'd made it to the front steps before remembering he couldn't access the library like he used to. Mor had claimed it for her own and now he had to do all of his searching through post for books. It was... aggravating to say the least. It had always been one of his favorite haunts. There was nothing quite like the silence occasionally broken but shuffled pages and low murmurs. Merlin he missed it.

Brooks had turned around before reaching the second step. It was cowardly, of course, but he also knew himself, knew how he was around her and he knew he couldn't, shouldn't do that to himself anymore. After a year in the bottle, he'd learned his lesson; it was time to pick up the pieces and move on. And so he had. He was courting a lovely woman, had thoughts about asking her to marry him, despite his previous humiliation. Brooks was a proud man, but he also was lonely and he'd grown to enjoy having a romance in his life.

After making it back to the Alley, Brooks detoured toward the book store instead. The cold air on his cheeks was helping to rid him of the sting of annoyance rippling across his skin. Maybe he'd stop by the Cauldron for a bit to eat. Brooks was cautious about his alcohol consumption these days. Rarely in public and only pints, nothing too strong, or he feared he'd slip back under to drown. He'd forgotten the time of year, the Alley was bustling with holiday shoppers, which did not help his mood. He had only one person to shop for this year and he had already gotten her a gift. It was a beautiful necklace that matched the ring he intended to propose with, but she wouldn't know that just yet.

Detouring toward the bookstore, he made it inside and finally felt that sense of peace he was looking for. Brooks moved further into the store and back to his favorite section; mysteries. He didn't often read fiction, but when the mood struck, it struck hard. He could use an escape from reality these days. But of course that was the aisle that was blocked. He couldn't help the huff of frustration as he turned the corner; which of course wasn't as quiet as he meant for it to be and the person blocking the way had heard him.

Brooks nearly groaned at the familiar voice that assaulted his ears. What he wouldn't have given for the response to be from anyone other than Drusilla Pettigrew. He had never been particularly fond of her, but had managed to tolerate her for Mor's sake. Now though, he had absolutely no reason to. He was however, not a complete asshole, so he wasn't going to be outwardly rude with a small child present.

"There are worse things to be interested in," mystery books, though hardly appropriate for the child, were at least entertaining. They had a purpose, unlike this conversation. "And it is more that you are in my way, than any child's interest in reading." Brooks was an avid reader himself, he devoured information voraciously, it was not like he was scoffing at anybody's pursuit of knowledge. Once upon a time, he imagined, though reluctantly, that his own children would have been friends with Drusilla's, until Mor left him at the altar of course. Then everything had crumbled.

He should pick up something for Effie while he was here. That would make him feel better.

"You see, bookstores are often organized by category and the one I'd like to peruse is over," he gestured dismissively toward the other end of the aisle that she was indeed taking up most of between the child and her skirts. "There." Could he have backtracked and gone around the long way? Sure. Did he really want to? No. Plus now he felt like being purposefully obstinate, even if speaking with Drusilla was bad for his health. Not to mention, he could go the rest of his life without getting within ten feet of her. That would be nice.

He was feeling a little vindictive now and had plenty of time to waste. "I suppose I can wait." He shrugged, leaning casually against the end of the bookshelf closest to him.

Brooks rather thought they must not be standing in the same bookstore. Or she couldn't actually read. Or she had no idea how wide women's skirts were? She had always been obstinate by nature, so that was also an option. Maybe she wanted him to pass through her space somehow, but that certainly wasn't an option. Flourish & Blotts had never been particularly crowded, but it wasn't built for such either.

"Yes, chap, take your time." Books agreed, as the child was clearly not the problem here. "I'll meander over here to get something for my fiancée." He could pick up a book for Effie. Brooks thought he knew enough of what she liked to pick up something. He could always run in by her friend Miss McKelvey before he gave it to her as well.

Mostly he said it for shock value; if Mrs. Pettigrew was going to be petty, so could he. He turned his back to them and made his way over to the desired section, still in view, but no longer with his attention in that direction.