Chapter 7
Eleanor
“Knock, knock,” I call as I rap my knuckles against the bright yellow door, the color reminding me of the fresh pollen in the center of a happy daisy.
“Eleanor, dear, is that you?” Lucille calls, popping her head out from behind a display rack of scrapbooking supplies.
My jaw drops as I step inside The Dancing Daisy and take in the artfully quaint interior.
I gape at the bookish knickknacks squeezed onto shelves filled to the brim with familiar and yet-to-be-loved titles, at the tasteful sage-green accents scattered throughout the old stone building, and the joyous way the morning sun trickles in through the paned front window, the light dancing across the earthy rug at the room’s center.
I’ve never believed in love at first sight. Until now.
Everything about The Dancing Daisy is perfect.
It feels like I’m standing in the middle of someone’s cozy living room, but better, because at the back of the building I spy colorful jars filled with candy I’ve never seen in my life before, and I’m already salivating at the thought of tasting them.
“Oh, I know that look,” Lucille says as she shuffles toward me. “I had a similar one the first time I saw this old shop, even if it didn’t quite look like this back then.”
“It’s…” No fitting words enter my mind, so I resort to gesturing, flailing my arms in a way that I hope expresses just how charming I think The Dancing Daisy is.
A glimmer of thankfulness races through me that none of my coworkers are here to witness me acting in such an uncomposed, unlawyery manner.
“I know, dear. I know,” Lucille sighs gently, coming to stand next to me as I rake my gaze across every tiny detail I can see so I can imprint this vision into my mind forever.
Peering behind me, Lucille asks, “Is Beck not with you?”
The question snaps me back to the present and I turn to face her. “No, sorry. He had to drop some things off at The Sparkling Cauldron for Samara.”
“That boy works too hard,” Lucille tuts affectionately. The genuine concern in her voice burrows into my heart and solidifies Lucille’s place as one of my new favorite people in Starry Hill.
“I’ve definitely gotten that impression too.” Leaning toward her, I whisper conspiratorially, “He almost tried to carry all the ingredients he got in Cape Easton to The Flowering Teapot this morning, but luckily Bodin showed up in time with his cart to help.”
Brows drawn down, Lucille takes one of my hands in hers. “Beck has such a good heart. A pure spirit. And it doesn’t take a magical creature to see it. I’m confident your beautiful human eyes can see it as clearly as my old ones do.”
I nod. “They sure can, but it’s good to have it confirmed.”
Wait, is Lucille trying to wingwoman me?
Despite how much I like Beck, we’ve only reconnected like a week ago.
I don’t really know him. Not adult Beck, anyway.
But having Lucille vouch for him makes me even happier to have him back in my life.
Neither of us is the same person we were as children, but I’m glad to hear that Beck’s still the same at his core as he was back then.
Hooking her arm through mine, Lucille beams at me and leads me deeper into the shop. “I think that’s enough talk about boys—for now. Let me give you a tour of my cozy slice of heaven.”
Lucille shows me everything, from the way she categorizes the books to how she curates which to put on display.
We talk stationery and compare annotation techniques, then she gives me a quick rundown of the magical candy against the back wall.
I’m not brave enough for any of them today, but maybe another time I’d try the one that changes your lip color.
Once we’ve listed some of our favorite books and established we’re both fans of a good mystery or anything fantasy related as long as there’s a substantial romance arc included, we make our way over to the high-backed chairs in a nook toward the back.
A darling teapot with two matching cups and saucers wait on a table for us with some slices of rye bread.
Pouring Lucille’s cup for her, I say, “This is the most enchanting bookshop I’ve ever seen. Honestly. It’s such a warm, inviting literary haven. How long have you had it?”
Cradling her cup, Lucille’s gaze turns wistful.
“I can’t take all the credit for The Dancing Daisy.
It was in my Lochan’s family long before we fell in love and I joined him here on the island.
We spruced it up over the years and tried to stay relevant, making sure we stock a mix of classics and new releases.
My Lochan gave it fresh coats of paint whenever I had another whim of an idea, and we added tiny treasures we found to give it a more homely atmosphere so that anyone entering through that yellow door would feel welcome. ”
Every word from Lucille holds me captive, the love for her husband woven into every happy crinkle around her eyes when she mentions his name.
It’s clear that The Dancing Daisy is not just a shop, it’s a labor of love passed down from a previous generation and cultivated into a hearth for book lovers.
Lucille dabs gently at her eyes before continuing, “But if I can be a little frank with you, lately it has been getting more challenging for me to manage it all. After Lochan passed, and considering my age, it’s not always easy to do everything by myself anymore.
I love The Dancing Daisy and everything it represents more than I can express, but we’re not as effective as we once were.
Plus, I’m the only human-run shop on the hill and by far the weakest in strength.
Luckily I’m part of this wonderful community, and a few of the strapping young lads are always willing to come help me out with some heavy lifting when needed. ”
If I didn’t like Lucille before, I undoubtedly do now.
Not only is she resilient but her positive outlook on life has me wanting to reassess how I view the world.
I’ve been so caught up in a cold corporate life, forcing my very round self into a prescribed square hole, that I’ve forgotten that not everyone is as buttoned-up and aloof as the people I work with on a daily basis.
If there is a way I can escape from that, even for just a little bit at a time, and surround myself with more people like Lucille—and Beck—I want to do that.
Reaching over to take her hand, I say, “First of all, I am so sorry for your loss. It sounds like your Lochan was lovely and the perfect partner for you. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you after experiencing and losing such great love.
And second of all, we’re friends now, right?
As far as I know, friends help friends, and I therefore volunteer my Saturdays to The Dancing Daisy.
I’d love to come help you out if you don’t mind having me around? ”
Lucille fixes her watery gaze on me. “Thank you, Eleanor dear. That’s awfully sweet of you, but I wouldn’t be able to pay you.”
I’m already shaking my head. “You don’t need to.
It would be my honor and an absolute pleasure to come out here on Saturday mornings.
I can research trending books for you during the week and then we can brainstorm ideas on how to breathe some fresh life into the shop, maybe plan some bookish events for the community?
I want to support you in any way I can. But if I’m overstepping, please tell me.
I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. ”
“Eleanor, I’m sure my Lochan sent you to me at the perfect time. Now, let me go get something a little stronger we can add to the tea and then we can toast this new partnership of ours.”
Shifting onto the edge of my seat, I watch Lucille’s retreating form, my heart drumming giddily, excited about my life for the first time in longer than I care to think about.
Lucille and I work all morning—planning, organizing, and chatting.
I hang onto every word she says as she tells me the detailed history of The Dancing Daisy, how it got its name, and how she and Lochan met while she shows me where everything in the shop is kept and how it works.
After lunch, she shoos me away so I can head to Beck’s mill and spend the afternoon with him before I have to go back to the city.
My entire body buzzes as I walk across the island’s rolling green hills, my mind still trying to process the morning’s events. This feels like a pivotal moment in my life and I don’t want to blink too hard in case this isn’t real.
Coming out to Starry Hill on Saturdays, spending the day surrounded by books in the coziest shop I’ve ever seen, and learning from someone as wise and warm as Lucille, is more than I could’ve ever wished for myself.