Chapter Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
Under Myra’s supervision, we label the shelves and unpack what feels like a million books. Then we arrange them on the shelves. Including those that bracket the kitchen.
Grand puts the finishing touches on the book club/story time wall mural then completes the camera-worthy vignettes for people to pose in front of. Each is framed by the Sandcastle Books’ logo and social media links, which should make for easy posting and sharing. We also decide to offer a 15 percent discount to anyone who shares and tags us.
An hour later, our Sandcastle Books and Arts (We’re Just Beachy!) sign hangs out front, and bright turquoise Adirondack chairs are arranged on the front porch, just beneath the sign, for those who prefer to shoot their selfies seated.
“Oh my gosh!” I say, taking it all in. “It looks like a bookstore.”
“It is a bookstore.” Myra grins. “And now all we have to do is make sure that everyone knows it. I think we should split up and visit every shop, gallery, bar, hotel, and restaurant on Pass-a-Grille and ask them to give their customers these grand opening bookmarks with the fifteen percent discount on them. Whoever delivers a stack to Paradise Grille could also stay a bit and hand them out in the area and on the beach to anyone who seems interested.
“Sydney, will you stop by Harley’s and make sure A.J. puts them somewhere visible? Or maybe you could convince him to give a bookmark to everyone who comes in?”
“I’ll give him a batch and I’ll hand them out myself when I work this weekend. Do we have a target demo? What kind of customers are you hoping for?”
“I feel very strongly that they should be breathing,” Myra says with a straight face. “And it will probably help if they have the ability to read, and a desire to do so. I don’t care how old they are or whether they’re locals, snowbirds, or simply passing through. We just need people to come in, look around, and buy books.”
“And the more people who take pictures in front of our vignettes and share them on social media, the better,” I add.
“Clear?” Myra shouts.
“Crystal!” we shout back.
“All right, then!” Myra laughs. “And I am extremely grateful that you are loud and enthusiastic! Bring it in!”
We do as she says, huddling together then bumping fists. On the count of three, we raise those fists and shout, “Sandcastle Books and Arts. We’re Just Beachy!”
Now that she’s got us pumped, Myra doles out assignments to each of us. Two minutes later we head out to spread the word and as many bookmarks with discounts as we can.
· · ·
When we finally straggle back to the store, Myra opens two bottles of wine and starts filling glasses. Parched from talking up the grand opening and convincing neighboring businesses to put the bookmark discounts in their customers’ hands, we toast the store and ourselves and everything we can think of.
“How’d it go, over all?” Myra asks as we drain our glasses.
“No one turned down the bookmarks,” I say.
“Yeah, I think the locals are almost as excited as we are to have a bookstore here on Pass-a-Grille,” Grand adds.
“Now we just have to plan the grand opening,” Myra muses. “What kind of entertainment should we have?”
“Hmm…maybe a clown or a magician for the kids? Or a clown who is a magician. Or vice versa,” Grand suggests.
“And William Hightower playing live? I keep pinching myself,” Myra says. “The word’s out and I know he’s going to draw a huge crowd.”
“And do you think A.J. might be willing to serve as bartender?”
“Absolutely.” I laugh. “I think he’d love to participate. And I know from personal experience that he’s unlikely to say no to Cassie Everheart.”
There’s agreement and laughter.
“And maybe one of the local restaurants will give us a good price on appetizers?” I suggest.
“Posh,” Grand says. “I’ll make the appetizers. And some desserts, too.”
“That would be great. And you’ll have Sydney to help you.” Myra beams.
I nod and smile though Grand and I are both well aware that cooking is not my superpower. Or one I aspire to.
“I could ask Kyra to help me photograph people in front of the vignettes and post them to social media,” I offer, relieved to have a task that does not require culinary skill. “And if Luke’s not on duty, I bet he’d be willing to come provide security. Just in case the clown or any of the children get too rowdy.”
At the mention of rowdy kids, I suddenly picture Luke surrounded by them. Kids that look like both of us. Which is completely ridiculous because although children are something I vaguely imagined might be part of my future if I ever met the right man who had parent potential, I’ve never once wondered this about any of the guys I’ve had relationships with. Including Jake, who’s already “in a relationship” with my replacement on Murder 101.
I don’t even know whether Luke wants to be a dad one day. Or whether he sees me, let alone children with me, as part of his future.
Then I blush at the odd yearning I feel at the idea of having Luke’s children. It’s one I’ve never felt before. And I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be feeling it now.
· · ·
It’s Saturday afternoon, barely 3:00 p.m., and Sandcastle Books is already bulging with people. A long line zigzags across the porch and down the front steps as guests wait to have their photos taken in front of the vignette.
Kyra takes the individual photos while Troy shoots video of the event, which they’ll ultimately edit together. My job is to welcome each guest and help them tag and post with the hashtags #Sandcastlebooksgrandopening and #justbeachy!
A.J.’s in the kitchen pouring wine and mixing drinks for the adults while Grand passes out juice boxes to the kids, whom she sends out to the enclosed porch. There the adults ooh and ahh over Grand’s murals while the kids drop onto beanbag chairs and kid-size rockers to watch wide-eyed as the clown blows up balloons, twists them into animals, then puts on a comedy sketch with them. Troy is there catching it all on video, which he immediately shares with all the right hashtags.
Nikki and Joe Giraldi arrive with their twin girls, Sofia and Gemma. Maddie’s ex-husband, Steve, is right behind them with Kyra’s son, Dustin. Maddie greets her grandson with a kiss on the head. As we adults hug one another hello, Sofia, Gemma, and Dustin make a beeline for the clown. Whom I hope will survive their enthusiasm.
“I heard you’ve been home for almost ten days, Joe. Are you resting up and taking it easy?” I ask.
“Ha! I’m exhausted. Luvvie’s left for a vacation and Nikki’s got a lot going on with the new store.”
“And?” I prompt.
“And I love my children dearly, but parachuting in to almost any hotspot on the globe would feel slightly less scary than being a full-time stay-at-home dad right now.”
“Men!” Nikki snorts. “It’s only been, like, two weeks. And they call us the ‘weaker sex.’?”
“Well, those two words will never cross my mind, let alone my lips, now that I’ve been up close and personal to pregnancy, childbirth, and everything that comes after,” Joe says. “I’ve started thinking we should rain dirty diapers down on our enemies from the sky and see how fast they surrender.”
Nikki rolls her eyes and heads toward the back room to make sure the kids are okay.
Locals, including some of the regulars from Harley’s, show up. Brian Boyer is here, of course, always close to Grand and ready to do her bidding. I wish I could take him and his interest in Grand at face value, but there’s something in his manner that feels off. Or maybe it’s the way that Luke, who’s still in uniform, keeps Boyer in his sights even as the kids gather around Luke and pepper him with questions like “How’d you git to be a po-ees-man? Kin I be one? Why are poeesman called Leos? Is it becuz they’re like lions? Where’s your gun? Kin I hold it?”
Some of the kids watch every move Luke makes, having apparently never been this close to a real-life law enforcement officer.
I have no problem with the children’s adoration. But I’d like to tell those women lusting after the man I’m sleeping with to get lost.
Except I know that while Luke might find my jealousy amusing—he’s just glanced my way, eyebrow raised—Myra might never forgive me for chasing off even a single handsy female customer.
Then Maddie Singer and William Hightower, who’s toting a guitar case, arrive and the adults present buzz with excitement.
“Oh, thank you so much for coming,” Myra gushes as she hugs them both.
“We’re so glad we could be here.” Maddie smiles. “Will and the band head out on tour next week, but neither of us wanted to miss your grand opening. It’ll be so wonderful to have a bookstore right here on Pass-a-Grille.”
Myra beams. “Well, you just let me know your favorite authors and genres and I’ll make sure to keep them stocked.”
“Absolutely.” Maddie’s smile grows even larger.
“I hope that applies to me, too,” Will adds.
“Yeah, Will’s a voracious reader. He likes the classics, biographies, and history especially.” Maddie gives Will a wink. “But he’s been known to read the occasional romance. I think he’s learned a lot from them.”
“Guilty on all counts,” Will agrees. “I realized back when I got out of rehab for the last time and started touring again that a good book can make life on the road way more bearable.”
“Gosh, I don’t remember seeing that little tidbit about you in the tabloids,” Grand teases.
“That would be because an aging rock star who’d rather read than trash a hotel room is not something the publicists play up.” Will smiles. “They’re afraid someone will notice that I’m an old fart.”
“Ha! As if.” I laugh.
“Fortunately, Maddie here likes her men old and grizzled,” Will teases.
“Well, I choose to think of him as rugged and mature.” Maddie plants a kiss on his cheek. “But I think it’s time for you to ‘stop jawing’ and entertain these folks.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nods to a mini stage that we set up over in the corner near the window. “Is that where you want me?”
“Yes. There’s an outlet there if you need it and no one will be able to sneak up behind you.”
“Perfect. Let me just get set up and plugged in and we’ll get this party ramped up a bit.”
Moments later, Will sends me a smile and nods to those already in the living room as he steps up on the stage. Then, not waiting for, or needing, an introduction, he begins to pick out a familiar tune on his guitar. The living room fills up as Will launches into “Mermaid in You,” one of his biggest hits. Soon, without urging or warning, the crowd gathered in front of him begins to sing along, swaying in place, clearly thrilled to be in the same room with the man formerly known as “Wild Will.”
Kyra and Troy shoot Will and the crowd from every possible angle then livestream the video. When it goes viral, I start to worry that we’ll end up with more people than we can stuff into the space, front and back porches included.
I’m almost relieved when the grand opening officially ends a little after five, but even though a lot of alcohol has been consumed, no one seems eager to leave. Myra grins as she rings up book sales on the cash register and thanks people for coming.
Kyra, Troy, Maddie, and Will get hugs from all of us, and it’s six o’clock by the time all our guests, with the exception of Luke and Brian, have departed.
“To Sandcastle Books!” I say, raising a glass in toast. “We are just so frickin’ beachy!”
“We sure are!” Grand crows.
Myra laughs. “I can’t thank you all enough. You made the grand opening a huge success.”
After another round of toasts, Grand and I head back to Casas de Flores. Luke tags along behind us.
“That was incredible, wasn’t it?” Grand says as we leave Pass-a-Grille behind. “I’m so happy for Myra. And glad to be a part of her new venture.”
“Me too,” I agree. It’s not exactly an acting gig, but it’s a worthwhile venture, and I’m excited not only for Myra but for the place Grand is creating for herself here.
In fact, I’d call this day pretty close to perfect. If it weren’t for the fact that when we get back to Grand’s, someone has smashed in her side light and the front door is wide open.