Chapter 36 Jack
I CAN FEEL F LO’S EYES on me across the room but I’m trying to ignore it.
The café is packed today. The staff have been running around constantly to maintain Flo’s required level of excellent service. Yet she still has time to stand behind the counter watching me eat my turkey sub.
Harry’s has been full of people all day, meaning I’ve only had time to eat now after running back and forth with stock while Joe worked the register.
I’m so relieved I took the extra time in the summer to make the Christmas decorations because they’re unusually popular this year.
Joe said at least twenty people have said “Shopping independent” to him like it’s some kind of cult mantra and he didn’t know what to do so he just saluted them.
I’m trying not to stare back at Flo so I opt to stare at the floor or table while I eat.
Something I regret when two orthopedic-sneaker-covered feet stop in my line of sight.
I look up expectantly, mouth full of turkey and bread.
“No Clara?” she says, sitting herself in the chair on the other side of my table.
Christ. It’s always been “No Elf?” and now it’s “No Clara?” I want to tell her that I do come without an add-on and she can have me on my own, but I don’t want to get smacked on the head while I’m eating.
I wash my late lunch down with my soda. “Nope.”
“Has she gone home?” I don’t know why Flo is acting like she doesn’t know everything that goes on in this town. If Clara had checked out of the B it used to be easy because of the limited tourists we anticipated.
After last year’s boom, Arthur bought double the signage for “busy periods.” Which obviously meant I, plus Tommy and Luke, had to install it.
It’s how I know that where to park couldn’t be clearer, because I froze my balls off earlier in the week making sure it couldn’t be misinterpreted.
A waste of fucking time now that my truck is blocked in by a car with Massachusetts plates.
We have a tow-truck guy who lives fifteen minutes outside of town for emergencies, but I’ll be publicly executed if I tow a visitor’s car just because I’m pissed off that I have to walk when it’s cold.
I get stuck behind a dozen women strolling after leaving Wilde they’re handing out books and totes to people who arrive.
Behind me there are a hot chocolate stand and a business that must be from out of town selling licensed merchandise.
There are two comfortable seats for Matilda and the woman who’s hosting the Q that way I’m not blocking anyone’s view.
I can see Tommy talking to a group of women our age on the other side of the room.
One of them throws her head back laughing when he says something.
I know for a fact that he’s never said anything that warrants that reaction.
I wave at him to get his attention. He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face when he sits down beside me. “This is where I’m going to find a wife.”
Side-eyeing him isn’t enough. “You sound like you’re about to kidnap someone.”
“That’s weird,” he says, pointing his fingers at me. “But I don’t need to. I’m the only single man in the room.”
“I’m single,” I argue.
He looks at me skeptically. “Sure you are, man. Single men kiss the women they’re sleeping with and never stop talking about in the corner when they think no one is watching all the time.”
“I don’t never stop talking about her,” I argue, but he’s already rolling his eyes.
“Clara doesn’t like oranges. Clara has a scar on her wrist from falling over drunk in college. Clara’s middle name is Rose. Clara’s favorite vacation spot is Italy. Clara’s—”
“I know all this. Why are you telling me?”
“I know you know it. Why do I know it?”
Despite what Tommy says, I think I talk about her a normal amount. It’s not like she’s all I talk about. Sometimes I talk about work too. Thankfully, Miss Celia appears on the stage and turns the mic on, giving me the perfect out for this conversation.
“Hello, everyone. I want to start by thanking you all for taking the time and effort to visit us out here in Fraser Falls. To see this room filled with people, especially on such short notice, makes my heart sing in a way I’m not sure any writer would be able to do justice with words.
“I’ve owned the Green Light bookstore for forty years and it’s been a journey of highs and lows. This is certainly one of my highest highs. When you choose to support independent businesses, especially during the holiday season, you really are choosing to support someone’s dreams.
“I’d like to thank Matilda for finding time in what I’m sure is a chaotically busy schedule to spend this evening with us, and her publisher for doing everything they could to make tonight as special as possible.
A final thank-you goes to our very own Clara, who used her connections and persuasive spirit to make tonight happen for you all.
“With that said, I’d like to welcome Matilda Brown and her conversation partner and host, Dallas Ryan!”
The room bursts into applause as a young blond woman steps onto the stage waving. “Hi, everyone,” Matilda says, her English accent standing out against Miss Celia’s.
I’m too stuck on Miss Celia calling Clara our very own to listen to anything Matilda Brown or her conversation partner has to say. She has everyone in this room hanging on her every word and all I want to do is tell Clara how proud I am of her.
The problem is, it feels too much like goodbye.