“What do you think, Jess? These roses have any life left in them?” Liddy stood back and studied the contents of the vase on the counter, a gift from Carl Lattimore. “I agree. Time to chuck ’em. Nice gesture on Carl’s part, though, don’t you think?”
She took the vase back to her office, pitched the sad remains of the once-beautiful white roses into the trash, and emptied the vase into the powder room sink. She set it on the windowsill to dry, then settled at her desk to go over the inventory report Grace had run after they’d closed the night before.
“I don’t know what I’d do without your old friend, Jess. She figured out how to integrate everything so all the sales can be tracked by the computer. I’m sure it’s no mystery, but if I had to learn how to do all this, along with everything else I had to do, we wouldn’t be open for about another year.” Liddy raised her eyes from the report, then closed them and went to a place where she could see Jessie and Grace playing on the beach. They’d collect shells, splash in the surf, and toss tidbits of their lunch into the air to lure the gulls. Their mothers would sit on their beach towels, watching their daughters play, best friends, as Liddy and Maggie had been, as Liddy and Maggie had hoped they might be. And every August, Art would come to Wyndham Beach and collect his family, and Jessie would cry.
“Why does Gracie have to leave? She’s my bestest friend,” Jessie would sob into Liddy’s chest after the Flynns’ car disappeared from view.
“You know she lives somewhere else, Jess. She only comes here in the summer to stay with her grandmother.” Liddy would wipe away Jessie’s tears and smooth back her hair. She knew exactly how her daughter felt. Maggie was her oldest, dearest friend, and she hated having to say goodbye till next summer. Liddy felt like crying herself. “But you know she’ll be back when summer comes again, right?”
“But she’s not here now,” Jessie would wail. “I want her to be here now, for all the time.”
Liddy looked to the open doorway, where she pictured her daughter, and said aloud, “And now she is, sweetie.”
As if summoned, Grace called from the front of the shop. “Liddy?”
“In the office. Would you bring my coffee when you head back this way?”
Less than a minute later, Grace handed Liddy the large cardboard cup from Ground Me and tossed a linen shirt onto what was supposed to be the visitors’ chair. It was stacked with books, which was fine with Liddy since she really didn’t want anyone visiting her when she was in the office. Unless, of course, it was Grace bringing coffee.
“The stuff you had is probably cold by now. This is a new one.” Grace handed her the to-go cup. She was dressed in one of her favorite outfits, a blue tank top and a denim skirt, her nod to the time she was scheduled to spend at the register later today, when she’d layer on the linen shirt. Till then, she’d be spending the morning on the second floor, where there was only a small air conditioner in the back window and a small fan to keep the air circulating.
“Thank you. There wasn’t much left in the other one anyway.” Liddy took a sip, then looked up at Grace. “I was just going over these reports you ran last night. We did really well last week.”
“And you are surprised, why?” Grace leaned against the doorjamb, right next to where Liddy imagined Jessie. It brought a smile to her face to see the two old friends reunited, even if no one else saw them.
“People love books,” Grace went on. “They need books. Everyone in town liked Fred and wanted to support him, but from what I’ve heard, he just couldn’t keep up the store. We served a lot of very happy patrons last week, Liddy. People are glad to have a real bookstore here in town again. Everyone I talked to was excited.”
“I hope all that glad and excitement wasn’t used up the first week, because we’re going to have to keep it going if the shop is to survive.”
“It’ll survive. Did you see the sign-up sheets for the book clubs? You might want to take a look at the sign-up sheet for romance and consider separating romance from women’s fiction. I think there are too many people on the list to have good group discussions. Too many voices—some of them we know to be very opinionated.”
“Huh. Okay, I’ll take a look and see what I can do. Thanks for the tip.”
“Sure. I’ll be upstairs if you need me. I want to put this month’s new releases, along with those for the next two, on the website. Anything else you want me to do?” Grace asked.
“Maybe reorder some of the books that sold out last week. Most of the thrillers we had on display are gone, and we sold a lot of children’s books, no small thanks to you.”
“You’re welcome.” Grace paused in the doorway. “Are Marion or Evelyn coming in today?”
Liddy shook her head. “I’ll give you a shout if I need help on the floor, but I don’t expect to be busy this morning.”
“You know where to find me.” Grace started up the steps to the second floor, then stopped and came back to the doorway. “Before I forget—I’ve had a number of inquiries about some of those old books we thought we’d try to sell online. The ones where we only had one dusty old copy?”
“Right. Some stuff Fred left on the shelves alongside new releases.” Liddy rolled her eyes. “He had a complicated system.”
“Some of those books are apparently quite rare. First editions and some obscure titles in the mix. I think we can cash in big-time on a few of them.”
“How did you price them?”
Grace smiled. “I didn’t, because I had no idea what they were worth. I listed the titles under a broad category and said, ‘Send me your best offer by such and such a date.’”
“Sort of like eBay. Yeah, go for it, Gracie.” She paused to consider whether they should be thinking about having several of those old books appraised by an expert in rare books, then reconsidered. But that would take more time than it might be worth, and if collectors were willing to bid on those books, they’d probably come close to their value. A bird in the hand . . .
“I’ll let you know how it works out.” Grace resumed her climb to her office.
Liddy had fifteen minutes before she was to open the shop, so she made her way to the front of the store, straightening books on a shelf here and there as she went by. She tidied the stack of greeting cards and rearranged the display of new paperbacks. At the counter, she turned on her iPad and checked Rosalita’s migratory progress. The great white shark was currently moving toward the southern tip of Martha’s Vineyard, brazenly close to the coastline. She’d just set the iPad on the counter when the door opened, and Tuck came in.
“Morning, Liddy.” His smile was bright, and as always, his very presence made Liddy smile in return.
He has a great smile, she thought. It reaches his eyes, which means he’s glad to see me—unless I’m reaching and seeing something I want to see.
“Hey, Tuck. What brings you in so early?”
“Early?” He scoffed. “It’s almost nine o’clock. I want to run upstairs and take a quick look at the drywall my guys put up, make sure there’s nothing else we need to do up there.”