The Bookshop on the Corner (A Gingerbread Cafe story) (6 page)

BOOK: The Bookshop on the Corner (A Gingerbread Cafe story)
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He let out a big belly laugh, which took me by surprise. I’d only heard him be all soft, and practiced charm. “It was kind of corny, I’ll admit.”

“I’ll forgive you this once.”

“So I’ll see you on Friday?”

“Let me guess — CeeCee’s made friends with you on Spacebook?”

“Tweeter, get it right.”

Oh, boy, here we went again. Why was the back-and-forth banter so easy with him? It was as if we’d read these lines so many times they fell from our lips as though they’d been memorized.

“I’ll be at Lil’s for the food, and, just so you know, I’m not one of those lettuce-munching, skinny eaters, so don’t mind me if I don’t talk all night. I’m more interested about what’s on my plate than socializing.”

I could hear him accept the challenge, as if the little cogs in his brain were turning ever so slightly.

“Me too,” he said. “I’m not one for people really. Much rather be snuggled up in a little nook, next to a roaring fire, with a novel…”

“Yeah, right, Romeo.”

He scoffed. “Are you calling me a liar?”

I exhaled down the line dramatically so he’d know how completely uninterested I was. “Yep.”

“You’re right, the picture is incomplete. I’d rather be snuggled up in the little nook at the back of your bookshop, next to a roaring fire, with a novel in one hand and
you
in the other.”

I dropped the phone as if it were scorching. Dammit! As I struggled to pick it up the dangly cord caught around the books at my feet.
Not
well played, Sarah. Now he’d know his words had affected me.

Finally, with shaky hands I put the receiver back to my ear. Note to self: get a cordless phone — at least
try
to keep up with the bare minimum of technology. Sometimes the ‘if it’s not broke’ mantra had a lot to answer for.

“Excuse me, I missed that, er…I have a customer…”

“No, you don’t.” He was all throaty desire.

I coughed. Oh, I coughed! I had to stop coughing. “Hello there…er…Doris, be right with you…” I said to the books in front of me, before mimicking the fictional Doris in a high-pitched granny voice, “No worries, dearie…”

He laughed again. “You are something special, Sarah. I’ll see you on Friday. If I have to climb on top of your plate to get your attention, I will.”

The phone clicked off. I slumped, exhilarated yet exhausted.

***

“What are you doing?” Missy bellowed loud enough to make the books on the shelf above me rattle. Fine, I’d admit it, I was snoozing down the back. And it wasn’t because of the picture Ridge had painted in my mind about us earlier that day. Blame it on the lack of sleep the night before.

“Missy, you scared the bejesus out of me!”

“You’re asleep? At noon? You’re supposed to be selling books, not sleeping with them.”

I laughed and cuddled the book tight on my chest. “I love them, and I won’t hear a bad word about my book babies.”

She shook her head, and grinned. “Why are you sleeping during the day?”

“I’m probably low on vitamin D and need some sunshine to perk me up. This sleepy, love-struck haze is clearly a medical condition that warrants some attention…not love-struck! Dumbstruck,” I corrected quickly.

“Excuse me — what have I missed here?”

I yawned and rolled over hugging my book. “Dumbstruck by the words in these pages, that’s what I mean. The written word, it can be downright mind-blowing, sometimes.”

She kicked my boot. “Don’t think you can turn away so I won’t see the truth in your eyes.”

“I’m not turning away. I’m simply resting until the next flurry of customers arrive.” Lassitude had me in its embrace. It was so weird — I felt weak, woozy.

“Ha! Really? Are you going to make a pregnant woman scoot down there?”

I groaned and covered my head with a limp European pillow.

She tapped her foot. “In my delicate condition?”

I didn’t respond.

“At my age?”

I let out a, “Pfft.”

“With this amount of morning sickness…”

I sniggered and sat up. “OK, OK. Are you really suffering from morning sickness?”

“No, but get up anyway, and tell me what’s making you drowsy as a cat in sunshine.”

I dragged myself up and was trying to pat my hair back into submission when Missy gave me the evil eye and shrieked, “You are love-struck! I knew it!”

“I am not!” I folded my arms across my chest. “And what makes you say that?”

“You’re all sparkly-eyed, and sheepish. You’re flushed red like a rose. He called, didn’t he?”

“Who?”

Her eyes lit up. “He did!”

I fell floppily into her arms for a quick hug. “If you mean Ridge, yes, he did. He sent me a book about New York, and a little note, so I guess he was following up on that.”

We strolled near the bay window of the bookshop where a small oak table stood, the only space that wasn’t covered with dusty books.

Missy sat on a chair and leaned forward. She cupped her face as if she was rapt. “And…”

“Well, he said this kind of weird thing about being snuggled down the back with a book in one hand…”

“How sweet!” she interrupted.

“And me in the other.”

Missy whooped so loud people on the street stopped to look. I waved at them, and watched them walk by before turning back to Missy.

“He likes you!” she said.

“Yep, me, a quiet little bookworm from smallsville,” I said, the sarcasm in my voice evident.

She clucked her tongue. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, when it’s actually the opposite. What’s not to love?”

“True, I am the whole package. Beauty, brawn, brains.”

She slapped my arm playfully. “Brawn? You’re so skinny you need to run around the shower to get wet!”

I shrugged. “There’s a lot of muscle underneath this scrawny frame.”

“You’re lithe. Not scrawny. Now—” she rubbed her hands together “—let’s talk about what you’re going to wear on Friday night…”

***

If I didn’t know better I’d say I was about to be struck down by some kind of killer plague. I was lethargic, and restless, and found sleep at night-time a suddenly impossible feat. I’d spent the better part of the week double blinking and stretching to try and keep my heavy-lidded eyes open.

However today I felt a strange sense of buoyancy. Could it be because it was Friday, and I was going to taste some of Lil’s delectable food? Upon reflection, it was definitely about the food. There was simply no other reason for my sudden euphoria.

After a busy few hours, packing orders for the online store, I pulled the shop door shut, and flicked the sign to ‘closed’. My favorite part of the day was when the noise of the street was blocked out and I was alone in the quiet. The sun was sinking, casting an eerie glow through the windows, landing on the stacks of books like fairy dust. I imagined the books exhaling, stretching their bindings, as they relaxed, not on show any more. And once I left for the night, I pictured them moving around the shop, their pages fluttering, as if they’d come to life. Until morning, where I’d walk in and find them not quite where I’d left them the previous night.

Batty, that was what Missy said I was.

I ran my hand along a stack of books and watched dust motes float to the ground. The tomes sat silently while I wandered around searching for a novel for the weekend. I came upon a stack of vintage magazines and flipped through them. One of them was about forties-style weddings so I put it in my rucksack for Lil. Finally, as though it were calling to me the whole time, I found a book that looked just right. Switching off the lamps, I paused at the door, glancing at the books, just in case today was the day I’d catch them moving, before smiling ruefully and heading to my car.

Chapter Seven

“Where are you?” Missy screeched down the phone.

Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I sighed. “I’m just about to leave, but my hair is sticking up all over the place.” I was a ‘set and forget’ type of hair girl. Usually it fell in a straight line, and that was good enough for me, but somehow after Missy’s extensive hair styling I’d ruined it.

“What? You didn’t wash it, did you?”

Oh, whoops. “It smelled kind of dusty from a little clean-up I had at work.”

She groaned. “Sarah, you were supposed to leave it be. That’s why I put all those products in it, so you wouldn’t have to!”

I ruffled my hair, which Missy had cut shorter at the back, making me flinch when cold air hit my naked neck. “I’ll wear a hat.”

She huffed. “You most certainly will not. You just hurry up and get here, and I’ll fix it as best I can.” She lowered her voice, and muttered, “Ridge is here already, and one of the Mary-Jos is flirting up a storm with him.”

I laughed. “Sounds like he’ll have his hands full, then.” The three Mary-Jos, cousins, were experts on the art of flirting.

“Well, they’re about to leave, anyway. But just hurry up!”

“I’m leaving right now, Missy Bossy Boots.”

She guffawed. “
Missy
Bossy Boots, oh, that takes me back to school. See you in five.”

***

“Geez, Sarah, did you stick your finger in a power socket?” Missy said as she combed her fingers through my hair.

“I tried to tussle it, like you said.”


Tousle
, like this.” She demonstrated a slight wiggle of her hands through her hair. “Not
tussle
like this.” She mimicked a tug of war.

“Right.” I nodded. “I can see the confusion there.” Ah, the foibles of the English language.

She pulled out a clip of bobby pins and went to work securing my hair. “There, that’ll have to do. Your gorgeous face makes up for it anyway. You’re like a little French ingénue, with your rosebud mouth and big innocent eyes.”

“Wow, poetic, Missy. Thank you.”

She took my hand and pulled me inside as though we were escaping a fire.

Lil’s cottage was similar to the Gingerbread Café in that it was cozy, and always smelled as if something delicious was being cooked.

Missy marched through the small entrance, and into the kitchen, dragging me like a naughty child.

“You’re here!” CeeCee bellowed, enveloping me in a hug. With the breath squashed out of me, I muffled into her shoulder, gasping until she loosened her grip. Lil came over and gave me a more gentle hug and a peck on the cheek.

Catching my breath, I said, “I have gifts.” And groped in my bag for the bridal magazines and handed them to Lil.

She flicked through the crinkled pages, and sighed softly. “Thank you, Sarah. These must be the nicest wedding dresses I’ve ever seen. I’ve got goose bumps just looking at them.”

Missy piped up, “That style would suit you to a T, Lil. That understated elegance…”

“Maybe it’s time to start looking for dresses,” Lil said. “Any takers?”

I looked quickly at Missy, expecting her to jump up and down with joy; instead her lips twitched in an effort to keep her features neutral. “I could possibly help,” she drawled. And then continued: “Oh, I can’t be that person!” She whooped loudly startling us, and her words poured out of her mouth in a rush. “I’ve got lots of ideas, and I know of these great shops, but we can also get it tailor-made — Bessie has the most gorgeous silk, not that I’ve asked her or anything, I just happened to wander in there one day.”

Bessie ran a little haberdashery shop in Ashford and tailor-made clothing by order.

Lil hugged Missy, and said, “Oh, you just
happened
to walk in?”

Missy replied, “It was like the silk beckoned me, and I need to know what kind of dress you’re wearing so I can match the hairstyle.”

Lil wiggled her eyebrows like a slapstick comedian, taking nothing seriously, and said in a low voice, “Sounds like we’ve got some serious shopping to do.”

We giggled at her play-acting. Lil was a sweet soul. The idea of a wedding would flummox most people but she was having fun contemplating what kind of style they’d like and how to make it magical. Simplicity was key, and the forties style was glamorous yet understated, a look that would suit Lil, a non-make-up wearer, or hair fluffer, perfectly. I loved that Lil was the opposite of highly strung, and I knew there would be no Bride-zilla moments leading up to the wedding.

“Anyway,” Lil said. “Let’s get back to Sarah for a minute.”

To avoid any conversation about the highly illogical set-up I groveled in my bag for more gifts. “Cee, I have a bag of bodice rippers for you.”

“Thank the Lord, I was gettin’ low.” She took the paper bag full of second-hand books, and peered in. “Historical — what you tryin’ to say?” She winked, and kissed me on the cheek.

Missy craned her neck and looked into my bag. “And?”

“I nearly forgot,” I said, delving in one last time. “For you, Missy, fashion magazines.” I had a whole bunch of baby magazines too, but couldn’t give them to her until she’d shared her good news with the girls.

“You’re always spoiling us. Now,” Missy said, rubbing her hands together. I knew right away she had something up her sleeve. No doubt to do with me and Ridge. “Let’s go out back. Everyone’s on the porch.”

The trio looked at me for a reaction and it was all I could do to control my snort laugh. “Girls, you couldn’t be any more obvious!”

Lil frowned. “But we acted this out before you got here.”

I arched my eyebrow as the snort eventually escaped. “Acted what out?”

Lil laughed into her tea towel until her shoulders shook, causing Missy and CeeCee to join in. Once everyone had composed themselves Lil said, “Well, it does sound kinda dumb now, but we set the boys up outside, and planned how we’d go about casually walking you out there like it was just another night…”

“It
is
just another night.”

CeeCee clucked her tongue. “You ain’t seen the way that man is dressed. Or how he smells. What
is
that smell? It’s like heaven itself. He got this little hair flick thing he doin’ and it’s mighty distractin’ even for an old woman like me.”

“That’s it, Cee,” I said. “It’s back to non-fiction for you. Now, ladies, if you could try to pretend you haven’t set me up that’d be great. So forget how you acted it out because your expressions give you away.”

BOOK: The Bookshop on the Corner (A Gingerbread Cafe story)
9.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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