Chapter Nineteen
Emma
Emma looked out at the gray day through the window of the bookstore where rain pattered relentlessly down the glass.
She had seen the same view for the past ten days. Rain, rain, and more rain. So far, The Rainy Day Bookshop was definitely
living up to its name, but unfortunately the rain still wasn’t bringing in the customers.
She looked around at the mostly empty bookstore, actually missing the hectic days at her Las Vegas coffee shop when she would
hit the ground running at 6:00 a.m. and not stop to catch her breath until her shift was over, sometimes twelve hours later.
The slow pace at the bookstore was frustrating, especially when she had so many great ideas, none of which had yet come to
fruition.
She needed to be patient with herself. She knew by experience that change did not happen overnight. It took long, hard, concentrated
effort to make a lasting difference. She couldn’t expect the bookstore would suddenly become a thriving hub of community activity
with only a bit of effort and time.
“I’ve put away the books that we ordered and shelved all the returns,” Maya Thompson said. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“No, thank you. You’ve been great.” She really did like the employees her grandmother had hired. They were all hardworking, earnest and loved books. She couldn’t ask for more from her staff.
“If you want to go home for the day, I can handle the last hour before we close. I don’t expect we’ll have a sudden mad rush
of people.”
“We can always hope.”
Emma felt as if she’d been doing nothing but hoping since she came to town. Hoping she had made the right choice, hoping she
could figure out what she was doing, hoping she did not let her mother down.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Maya said. She grabbed her book bag, slung it over her shoulder and headed out to where her
bike was secured in the rack out back.
The poor thing was in for a very wet ride home. At least she didn’t have to go far. Emma knew Maya lived only a few blocks
away from the bookstore, in the apartment she rented with three friends.
Though she was only four years older than her employee, Emma felt ancient in comparison. A single mom with years of bad choices
behind her.
Had she ever been that young and carefree?
After Maya left, the store seemed abnormally quiet, especially without what had seemed like the ever-present sounds of construction
from the expansion and renovation project.
Bryce hadn’t been working at the bookstore for several days but Emma refused to acknowledge her bad mood might have anything
to do with his absence—or that she might be coming to rely on seeing him to lift her day.
Emma would have thought a rainy day would bring more browsers in to peruse the shelves, something to distract them.
What was cozier than a bookstore during the frequent rainstorms that hit this part of the Pacific Northwest?
Unfortunately, their customers didn’t agree. At least not tonight.
She was dusting off the new and improved bookshelves that Bryce had installed only two days earlier when she heard the chimes
ring out front.
She gave her polite smile of greeting but when she raised her head, Emma could almost feel her facial muscles freeze.
Pam Clarke walked in, looking trim, pert and energetic.
Emma wanted to punch her right in the face.
She was extremely tempted to tell the woman she was not welcome in the bookshop. The words seemed to swell up in her throat
but Emma forced herself to swallow them down again.
As much as she wanted to take the higher ground, business was business. She forced her features into what she hoped looked
moderately polite.
“Hello, Pam,” she said.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you, Emma. You look fantastic. I wanted to have a chance to talk to you the other night when I stopped
by before your neighborhood party but you disappeared.”
“I was busy helping my mom get ready for the party.”
And avoiding you at all costs.
“Well, it’s great to see you! You look fantastic. Love the ink!”
“Thanks.”
She fought the urge to hide the tattoo she had designed to remember her dad, a heart entwined with a crescent moon and the
words To the moon and back.
“How are you, dear?”
“I’m good. Busy.”
If she hoped Pam would take the hint, she was doomed to disappointment. “It can’t be easy to try to make something of a small-town bookstore in this day and age. It’s so much more convenient to buy things online, don’t you agree?”
“Maybe. But convenience doesn’t keep a bookstore going in a small community.”
She didn’t bother telling Pam all the reasons The Rainy Day Bookshop was important to the community. About how it served as
a community hub and offered locally curated books people couldn’t find easily elsewhere. About how a good bookstore could
provide a gateway to reading to community members. About how she wanted to foster creativity and connection here.
“Is there something I can help you find?” she asked instead.
“Just browsing, really. I’m looking for a gift to take to a friend who just had surgery.”
“Books are the perfect present. I’ll leave you to it,” she said.
“Thanks,” Pam answered. When Emma returned to her work, she saw the other woman perusing the shelves as if trying to memorize
each title.
For the next twenty minutes, Emma was painfully aware of the presence of the other woman. A few other customers came in: a
couple of tourists looking for a guidebook about the town, a young girl seeking the latest in a series of fantasy novels she
was reading, a teenager looking for manga.
More customers came in during that final twenty minutes before the store closed than she’d seen in the past hour.
Through it all, Pam seemed to be browsing the shelves, book by book.
Just go, already, Emma thought as she checked out the manga titles for the teenager. She’d never been so eager for a customer to get out of
the store as she was for Pam to leave.
She had hoped she could avoid further conversation with the woman but by the time Pam finally approached the checkout counter, all the other customers had left and they were the only two people in the store.
“Found something?”
“Yes. I think she’ll love it,” Pam said, setting a Mediterranean diet book on the counter.
Emma had thoughts about the wisdom of giving a cookbook to someone who was feeling under the weather, but she chose to keep
them to herself. She didn’t know the recipient nor the circumstances. Maybe a diet cookbook was the exact right gift to lift
the spirits of this person who was having a rough time.
After ringing up the sale, she held out the small machine for Pam to swipe her own credit card. When the transaction was done,
Emma handed the book and the receipt to the woman. “Would you like a bag?”
“Do you offer gift wrap?” Pam asked.
Emma wanted to say, Hell to the no. Not for you. But there was a stylized sign behind her that clearly indicated The Rainy Day Bookshop offered free gift wrapping.
Suppressing her frustration, she pulled out the long box containing their three styles of gift wrap available, two book-focused
prints and one silvery generic style.
“Which one would you like?” she asked.
Pam pursed her lips and studied the gift wraps before she pointed to the generic silver one.
Emma had never wrapped a gift so quickly, nor had she ever been as relieved to tie the final ribbon.
“Here you go,” she said, giving a tight smile that felt like it was going to freeze off of her face as she handed the gift-wrapped
cookbook to the other woman.
Pam took the book, eyeing Emma carefully.
“Have I done something to make you mad?” she asked.
Oh yes. Plenty of things that she did not want to get into right now.
“Why would you ask that?” she asked instead.
“You seem so short with me. We used to be buds. I miss those days.”
“We weren’t ever buds. Not really. I was a child and you were an employee of my parents.”
She sounded ridiculously rude, but she couldn’t seem to shove the words back in.
Pam looked hurt but she nodded. “I remember those days with fondness, when you used to come into the office and tell me about
your friends and the boy you liked and your latest book obsession.”
“That was a long time ago.” Before, when Emma had been young and innocent and stupid.
“I suppose it was. Well, I’m glad you’re back. Your mom has been terribly worried about you over the years. She missed you
so much. It’s great to have you back in town.”
“Thanks,” she said, through lips that felt numb. Emma didn’t bother telling Pam that she was one of the reasons Emma had stayed away so long.
“I’m about to close the store,” she said when Pam made no move to leave. “You’re my last customer of the evening.”
Before Pam could answer, the bells on the door chimed.
She felt a rush of relief and something deeper when she saw Bryce come in, pulling the hood back on his raincoat and shaking
drops off on the mat.
His expression brightened when he saw Pam.
“Hey there, Pam, how are you?”
“Fantastic,” the other woman said, beaming back at him.
Emma ground her teeth, fighting the urge to pull Pam away and shove her out the door. She didn’t want her anywhere near Bryce, which Emma knew was a completely irrational reaction.
The two of them worked together at Lucas Construction. Of course they would be friendly. Her parents had always fostered community
and connection, treating their coworkers more like family than employees.
“How’s your mom?” Pam asked, her features the very picture of concern.
“About the same,” he answered. “She’s back at her care center, where she’s already started physical therapy for her hip.”
“And how did things go with the Pine Beach project today? You’re nearly done, aren’t you?”
“On the home stretch. They’re supposed to close on Monday.”
The two of them worked together daily. They were part of a club where she didn’t belong. As she listened to them talk about
the ins and outs of things at Lucas Construction, things she would have known had she been working there since high school,