Chapter Thirty-Six
Thirty-Six
By evening, Shelby was able to put her personal—and her past—firmly in the background. She had a book event to host: Claudia’s new author was in town.
“This space looks even better than I imagined,” Mia said.
They stood next to one another on the beach behind Land’s End. Shelby agreed with her. They’d taken their decorating cues from Duke’s successful backyard event for Anders. They borrowed folding chairs from the Lombardos, and set plush beach blankets alongside the aisles for potential overflow. They strung red, white, and blue twinkling lights on the stairs behind the shop and arranged the signing table between the store and the audience. A refreshment table was set with bottles of wine, water, and a covered cheese and fruit tray.
“Having this space makes a big difference,” Mia said. “My brother really delivered.” The tone of her voice was incredulous.
“Does that surprise you?” Shelby said. It didn’t surprise her. Justin didn’t say something if he didn’t mean it. She’d known this early in their relationship. That was why when he’d said he could never live anywhere but Ptown, she believed him. As she’d meant it when she said she would be moving to New York City.
How could Hunter judge her so harshly?
Well, she wasn’t going to make things worse by being hard on herself. She had a lot going on, and she was managing to keep all the balls in the air, including running Land’s End and staying on track to meet her book deadline.
“Mia, no pressure, but have you read any of my manuscript? I’d love to hear your thoughts.”
Mia’s rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s getting hot out here. I’m going inside.”
Shelby tensed, certain now that Mia had read it and didn’t like it. She followed her back into the store. They both walked to the front counter, where Mia made herself busy checking the hold shelf.
“It’s okay if you don’t like it,” Shelby said. “I want to hear what’s not working so I can improve it. I didn’t give it to you for you to tell me how great it is, or anything like that.”
Mia shook her head, her dark curls falling into her face. Still, Shelby could see the flush that was creeping up her neck to her cheeks.
“I haven’t read it,” she said.
Shelby gave a wave. “Okay, don’t worry about it. Really. We’re all busy.”
“I want to read it. But I can’t,” Mia said.
“Oh. You mean... I don’t understand.”
“I can’t read.”
“Very funny. You’ve read more books than I have this summer.”
“I’ve listened to more books. Audiobooks.”
Shelby froze. The headphones. The constant headphones.
“I love stories,” Mia said quickly. “I like talking to readers. I like matching people with the right book. But...”
Shelby pressed her fingers to her temples. “Wait. You shelve books. You log inventory. What do you mean, you can’t read?”
Mia tugged on a lock of her hair. “I can read individual words. Names. A sentence. But I can’t read paragraphs, hold it in my mind, and then add another paragraph to it. I can’t process a narrative in written form.”
Shelby leaned against the counter.
“Do your parents know?” She thought of Carmen’s visit a few weeks ago. She thought about Mia’s attitude towards school. It all made sense.
“When I was younger it was obvious there were delays or whatever. My mother got so upset, and the tutors didn’t help, and so to make everyone happy I started pretending the extra help worked—just to get them to stop worrying about it. I thought it would get better, but it didn’t.”
Shelby reached out and hugged her, feeling terrible.
“You could talk to your brother,” Shelby said, feeling Mia’s slender small frame tremble. “He’s good at finding solutions. That scientific mind, you know.”
“No!” she said, pulling away. “And you have to swear you won’t tell him.”
Shelby hesitated. “I’m not sure I can do that.”
“Why? You’re not together anymore. And we’re friends. So why would you choose him over me? Please, swear,” she said, getting worked up again.
Shelby couldn’t bring herself to make such a promise. Her mind raced, retracing the time she’d spent with Mia in the shop. She realized she might have created false memories of Mia reading books when she had, in fact, never seen her hold an actual open book.
Before she could say anything, Ezra Randall walked in with their guest author for the evening.
The reading began late. So many people showed up that Shelby had to bring out more chairs. The one person who couldn’t make it was Colleen; she was exhausted after the shower. She texted Shelby, No worries: I couldn’t imagine a better reason to be tired and miss the reading—I loved it. Thank u!!!!
Shelby sat in the front row between Pam and Annie. She saved a seat for Anders, and he made it just before the reading started. Dressed in a lightweight seersucker blazer and a pale blue button-down, he looked every bit the distinguished, award-winning novelist.
Anders leaned in and kissed her. “Since your part-timer is here, and the store owners, maybe you’ll be able to slip away a little early?”
Anders’s friends from London, married literary critics Mimi and George Oaks, were in town for the week and hosting a big party. When Anders invited her, she said, “I didn’t think British people celebrate the Fourth of July. Considering...”
“Oh, it’s not a Fourth of July party,” he said. “It’s sort of a...salon. For us expats here for the summer—and the Americans who tolerate us.” He’d winked.
It had sounded like fun at the time. But now she wished she hadn’t committed. She wanted to find a minute alone with Mia. She still couldn’t process what she’d just told her, and wished they hadn’t been interrupted. Terrible timing.
“I don’t know how soon I’ll be able to leave,” she said, looking around at the growing crowd. “I think this might go awhile. We could just stay here, then grab something to eat on our way to the fireworks?”
He smiled appreciatively, as if she’d said something clever. Then his expression straightened, and he said, “Oh...you’re serious.”
“Well...yeah,” she said. Anders glanced behind them, probably plotting his escape, she thought. “Look, I don’t want to keep you here if your friends are expecting you. Why don’t you go to the party, then meet me at the pier later for fireworks?”
He was visibly relieved. “Brilliant.” And she thought, how easy it was to have a relationship with a man who was secure enough in his own life to allow her to have her own.
They faced the bay, and the sunlight played on the water like a painting. The author, holding a copy of her book in front of her, looked like someone staged in a stock photo. It made her wish Anders had been to one of her own events, and she realized it wasn’t too late: she could invite him to go with her to Boston.
Pam leaned in close and whispered, “We’ve had our doubts about the store, what with Colleen on bed rest and all. But you’ve really come through, Shelby.” She squeezed her arm.
She exhaled. She thought about what Doug had said earlier that day, about timing and life and things not always going according to plan. When Secrets of Summer had published two months ago, she never imagined where the summer would lead. And that day at lunch with Claudia, she’d wondered if she’d ever get to the finish line with the new novel. And now she’d almost finished a draft. In fact, she hoped to be done before she went to her next book event. That way, she and Claudia could meet in person to discuss the manuscript.
Thinking of Claudia, Shelby snapped a photo of the author reading from her opening, then turned around to get one of the packed audience. Texting it to Claudia, she had an idea to send it to one more person—someone at least partly responsible for the successful event.
She typed up a text, then erased it. She started again: Thanks for your help with the beach. Annie and Pam are really happy. She attached the photo, and before she could change her mind, sent it to Justin.