Book Lover, The (38 page)

                            
44

I
N THE THIRTY YEARS SHE’D OWNED THE BOOK LOVER, Ruth had never been away from the store for more than a day, perhaps two. The first time she walked back through the door, she felt as if she were coming home. This had been her world for more than three decades, she thought as she opened the door and the bell tinkled cheerfully. This had been the center of her universe, the long shelves of books, readers drifting in and out over the course of a day, all the magic and discovery right here at her fingertips. It had been hers to share with the world.

Megan looked up from behind the counter and gave her a tight smile. “Welcome back, Ruth.”

Before she could answer, she caught a movement in the back of the store.

“Hannah’s packing up her things,” Megan said.

She hadn’t expected Hannah to be there, but this actually would be better. She could tell them all at once.

Ruth walked to the back and as she did, her mouth fell open in disbelief. The walls were now a bright cherry red, the black bistro tables covered with red and white checked table cloths, and of course the mirrors painted like windows overlooking the countryside. It was stunning, the entire area transformed to feel like a French café. Hannah sat at one of the tables, wrapping cups in newspaper and putting them in a box on the floor.

“Ruth, you’re back,” she said, standing and coming over to give her a hug. “You look better. Not so tired.”

“I’m getting there,” Ruth said. “What are you doing?”

Hannah said nothing for a moment. “I need to get back to the real world, as Eddie puts it. I didn’t want to bother you while you were getting better, or burden you with my problems. I know you were just doing me a favor here. But I know you have to do what’s right for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s all over town, that you’re going bankrupt and closing down.”

Megan had been right. She’d bet money that Eddie was at the heart of it. But it didn’t matter who’d started the rumors. The front door opened and she turned to see Harry walk in, then just behind him Kris. She hadn’t asked Colin. She’d talk to him later.

“Wait here just a moment, Hannah,” she said.

She walked to the front of the store where her three employees looked at her expectantly. How loyal they’d been all these years, working for a pittance, not just because of their love of books, but because of their devotion to her.

“How about we talk in the back, where we can sit down?”

She was startled to see Megan’s lower lip begin to quiver. Kris and Harry just exchanged glances. Ruth locked the front door, and turned the open sign around.

A moment later, they sat with Hannah at two of the bistro tables.

“I missed all of you,” she began, “and I can’t thank you enough for pitching in even more while I was out sick. There’s no way I can ever repay you for all that you’ve done for me, as well, over the years.” She hesitated a moment. “I can tell by the looks on your faces that you know what I’m about to say.”

There was a heavy silence. It reminded her of being in school years ago, after someone was severely disciplined, the pall of discomfort, and how no one could make eye contact.

“That I’m in financial ruin, that I’m closing the store, and that I’m giving up.” She took a deep breath. “Well, you’re wrong.”

Megan looked up as if she’d heard a gunshot. Kris and Harry exchanged puzzled looks. Hannah frowned skeptically, wondering if she’d heard right.

“When Megan came to see me right after I got home from the hospital, I was exhausted, and yes, I felt defeated. But she said something else that got me to thinking—that I’m too much of a control freak. Well, she’s right. As the days went on and I started feeling better, and getting really bored,” they giggled at that, and she could see their faces brightening, “I realized that the one thing I never really controlled was this store. Because I didn’t own it. If I want to keep going here, that has to change. So…I’m going to buy the building.”

“But…” Hannah’s voice faded, unable to voice what she knew they were all thinking.

“But how can I buy the building when I’ve barely been able to keep the store afloat?”

They all nodded.

“I’m selling my house. I’m going to live in the apartment upstairs. And I’m going to fix this place up. Maddy Akin gave me a price on my house—what it’s worth if I do a little sprucing up, and I made Jeff an offer. Because the building is in such poor shape, my house, surprisingly, is worth more.”

“What did he say?” Kris asked.

“Maddy convinced him to say yes, and to give me thirty days to sell my house. As we know, he’s been thinking about selling, that’s why he wouldn’t renew our lease. And no one’s going to offer him as much as I have, there are other buildings they can get for less. I’m his best bet.”

“I just want to be clear, Ruth, you’re not closing the store? For real?” Megan asked.

“For real. I’m making you assistant manager, Megan. I need to have some balance in my life. A little more life, a little less work. And I think you’ve got a good grasp on the future of bookselling.”

“Oh, Ruth, I’m gobsmacked!” Megan jumped up and came over and hugged her.

“And Hannah,” she said, when Megan stepped back, “please don’t pack up. I know Megan will back me up on this. We can’t be just a small bookstore anymore. You’ve got a real talent that’s been untapped. And let’s face it, in retail Christmas is around the corner, so let’s start stockpiling Book Lover Gift Baskets. I’m hoping we have our best holiday season ever.”

“Ruth,” Kris said, standing and looking at her curiously. “What kind of medicine did they give you?”

Ruth looked at them all. “Nothing more than another chance at life.”

* * *

WHILE SHE CLEARED THE COUNTERS IN HER KITCHEN that afternoon, Thomas began painting the cabinets. The old maple was chipped and scratched and Ruth had seen enough HGTV in the past to know Mandy was right—she’d make more by simply sprucing up a bit here and there. Thomas had jumped on board last night when she told him her plan to keep the store and buy the building. He was pretty handy with a paintbrush, he’d insisted, after painting everything that didn’t move in prison during his time. Besides, she’d done so much for him over the years he wanted to do something for her. The old Ruth, the control freak, would have refused. She’d simply said “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Now as she packed up boxes of clutter, making her counters appear more spacious, Thomas stood on a ladder, brushing a soft antique white on the cabinet frames. It was going to transform the room, and she lamented that she hadn’t done things like this sooner, so that she could enjoy them. But it didn’t matter. She was more than ready to move on.

“Thomas, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she said casually, as she tucked her old blender into a cardboard box, “how old are you?”

All along, she’d assumed he was close to her age, but last night she’d really studied him, his hair not so severely short anymore, his face somehow softened since he left prison. He suddenly looked much younger.

“I’m fifty-seven.”

She waited for him to ask her the same question, but he didn’t. The radio played on in the background as she thought about this new information. He was nearly eight years younger.

“Do you really think age matters, Ruth?” She heard him coming down the ladder and turned to face him.

“I’m older than you. Not by a little bit.”

“I don’t care. We’re both somewhere in late middle age. Isn’t that close enough?”

She had to smile. “I could argue with that, but I won’t. I like to fool myself that I’m still in that category.”

“I remember when my grandmother turned eighty, she told me she still felt eighteen inside.”

“I think my mother said something like that.”

“I don’t think we should argue with them.”

The music changed suddenly on the radio, to an old Righteous Brothers song, “Unchained Melody,” one of her favorites. Thomas reached over and turned up the volume. Then he turned to her and opened his arms.

“May I have this dance?”

“Oh…”

A beat later, she slowly walked into his arms. One hand took hers, his other circled her waist, pulling her toward him, then stopping at a respectable distance so their bodies weren’t touching. Last night they’d held hands, but nothing more. Now as they swayed from side to side he drew her closer and she looked up to see him staring down at her.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you, Ruth Hardaway, for years.”

“Oh,” she said again, her heart kicking into high gear as he lowered his mouth and touched her lips.

“Mom?”

They broke apart as the front door slammed, and she pushed Thomas back toward the ladder. A moment later Jenny was standing in the kitchen doorway.

Ruth turned to the box on the table, hiding her crimson face as she spoke. “Oh, honey, hi. I’m packing up some clutter, and this is Thomas. He’s doing some painting for me.”

A pause. “I see.”

She heard Thomas climb down the ladder again—how had he gotten back up there so quickly? Just as she turned, he and Jenny were shaking hands.

“Mom, could I talk to you?” Jenny said then, and nudged her head toward the dining room.

Oh no. She hadn’t wanted them to meet like this.

Once they were in the dining room, Jenny’s smile disappeared and she looked at her mother with blazing eyes. Before Ruth could say a word, Jenny launched into a tirade about Lucy. And Colin. And the conversation she’d just had with Gloryanne.

Lucy, apparently, had been playing them all for fools.

* * *

ON THE SEAT BESIDE RUTH WAS THE BOOK she’d told Lucy about long ago,
Max Perkins, Editor of Genius,
that she’d finally ordered last week and had been anxiously waiting to give her. It was a valid excuse to drive out to the lake. She insisted to Jenny that there had to be a mistake. She was quite certain Lucy was reconciling with her husband. Even so, Lucy would never be so devious. She tried to calm herself as she drove the winding roads, remembering the last time she’d made this drive back in the spring for Bill’s birthday. So much had changed in her life since then.

The wind kicked up suddenly and a few leaves fluttered to the road from the woods on either side of her. Already there was the occasional tree turning red or yellow. Soon Applefest would be arriving again, and then the anniversary celebration. And she’d be sharing all of it with Thomas.

Before she knew it she saw the flash of water sparkling through the trees and the road narrowed as she wound around the lake. Minutes later she pulled into the gravel drive, coming through the tunnel of pines, which swayed in the wind. She was relieved to see Lucy’s car, having taken a chance she’d be back by now. She hadn’t called ahead. She wanted to catch Lucy completely unawares.

Luckily Colin’s car was gone. He spent Mondays at the VA.

She walked up the porch steps and knocked on the screen door. The inside door was wide open.

“Hello?” she called in, but could see that no one was inside. She turned and scanned the shoreline, but there was no sign of Lucy.

“Anybody home?” she called again as she pulled the screen open and poked her head inside. As her eyes adjusted to the darker room she saw pages all over the floor, obviously blown about by the wind coming through the open windows and door. She went inside and gasped out loud.

Everything was different—new curtains and slipcovers, the cabinets nearly all painted white, rugs and…she was flabbergasted. It was a horribly bold and thoughtless act. Lucy had apparently made herself quite at home without asking permission for anything.

“Lucy?” she called again and then bent down, gathering up pages into a messy pile and taking them to the kitchen table, which Lucy had moved to the front window. Setting them down, she realized this must be the manuscript for Lucy’s new novel, which she’d also been secretive about. She began sorting through the pages then. When she put the first page on top, she couldn’t help glancing at a paragraph.

Catherine looked up from her laptop and across the short stretch of sloping green lawn to the water’s edge. A ripple caught her eye and she stared for a moment with a frown. Then, as if in a dream, a head surfaced through the dark lake, eyes closed, high cheekbones glistening, long hair slicked back as the man held his face to the sky. The shoulders broke through, followed by strong, muscled arms and Catherine wondered if this was in fact a god of nature emerging before her in the lake.