5
“Hey Mom.” I switch my phone to speaker as I move to the fridge. We are in the middle of a baking marathon. Well, it’s mostly me completing the marathon. For some reason the bookstore is unseasonably busy for a Friday afternoon, and Michael has had to help Sydney a lot in the front of the store.
“Hey sweetie! Michael told me you’re on baking duty today. What’s on the menu?”
Michael and my mother talk on the phone more often than she and I do, which is already quite frequently. She might like him more than she likes me.
“Right now, I think I’m on the fourth batch of Reese’s Explosion Cookies? No, definitely fifth batch.”
“Anything new on the menu for tomorrow?” I know she’s asking because she will certainly stop by, and will expect some free sweet treats heading her way.
“Niall sent us an Irish recipe we’re trying out, pairing it with coffee or tea. It’s kinda like a spiced soda bread but with more fruit?”
“Oh, a barmbrack? I hope you made it in advance.”
Of course she’d know what it was.
“It will have been in the fridge for almost two days before serving. Don’t worry. Niall gave us the third degree on it.”
Mom sighs. “I do hope him and Michael end up together. I know it’s a longshot with him living in Dublin and you guys here. They just get along so well.”
And she has indeed seen it firsthand. Multiple times she’s come by for drinks and Niall calls during her visit. I’m pretty sure Mom has a crush on him. Must be the Irish accent.
“Anyways, I’ll let you go. I’ll see you tomorrow. I might even bring a date.”
I stop rolling dough balls and look directly at the phone.
“Come again?” Mom, as far as I know, hasn’t dated since Dad died.
Not that I’d have a problem with it. Hell, I’ve encouraged her to get back out there.
Pretty sure Michael helped her set up a few dating profiles.
She usually brushed it off and said she wasn’t interested.
“It’s a friend from work. Well, from another school. He coaches a rival school’s basketball team. We met at a tournament this year and have had dinner a few times.”
I audibly huff. “You know you could’ve told me about him.”
“I know honey, but this is all new for me. Who knows what will be going on even next week. Okay, I’m off! Have fun.”
Just as I hang up the phone Michael bursts into the kitchen, face beet red. “Not sure what is going on with town today but it’s fucking wild out there. The bakery case is almost empty. Anything we can spare from tomorrow’s prep?”
“You’re lucky I made extra cookie dough for tomorrow.” I slide over a tray of Reese’s cookies and a tray of snickerdoodles. “This is all I can spare unless you plan on staying here late tonight.”
“Thank you a million. I’ll take over in a little bit so you can prep for book club. Maybe have a few drinks and relax a bit.”
“Sounds amazing.”
* * *
A few hours later the room is starting to settle down for book club, Sydney’s floating around delivering drinks to the attendees. Much like earlier, the bookstore is packed for the event, about forty people with books in hand.
“Thank you for coming,” I begin, taking a seat in the front of the room.
Sydney drops off an espresso martini, hopefully decaf so I’m not up all night.
“Last week we read Colton Gentry’s Third Act by Jeff Zentner, as a showcase of what a Young Adult author can bring to the Adult Fiction space.
This week we decided to feature an author named Gareth Brown, with their debut novel The Book of Doors.
Show of hands, how many enjoyed the book? ”
Almost the whole room has their hands in the air, including Michael and Sydney by the kitchen door. Initially we thought the demand for a biweekly book would be too much to keep up with, but ultimately decided we could divide and conquer and switch off who read the book club books.
Which, in reality, led to all of us reading the books every meeting because no one wanted to feel left out. Plus, the perks of being a professor or working in a bookstore, was the downtime that gifted dedicated reading time.
“For those who didn’t put their hand up, what would be your critique of the novel?”
Lani, a frequent front row seater, puts her hand up in the air. “I felt pacing was all over the place. The book draws out certain moments, dragged at times in the middle, and then the end wraps up super quick and felt unresolved.”
A handsome guy behind her raises his hand. “I had some problems with the back and forth in time and locations, keeping track of it and the characters.”
The woman next to him rolls her eyes. “I’ve told you a thousand times. There are certain books that don’t work for you as an audiobook. You have the attention span of a small child, let alone remembering where you are in a story.”
This elicits a few laughs from the crowd. I take a big sip of my martini, looking over the man and woman and try to discern if they’re a couple or friends.
“I loved Cassie and Izzy though. Their friendship was easily something I could see in myself and my best friend.”
This was something I also thought of with Michael and I. I imagined what type of shenanigans we would’ve gotten into with something like the Book of Doors.
“The reason we suggested this book was because of how much this book club loved The Midnight Library when we read it last year. It’s not the same, but it falls into that Magical Realism subgenre.
We have another book coming up that will also lean that way, but want to keep the genres moving around so book club doesn’t get stale. ”
“What book is that?” The handsome guy asks.
“I guess you’ll have to keep coming to book club to find out.”
Book club lasts for about forty-five minutes, but after the first half hour or so it always goes off the rails. After getting through some town gossip (which for some reason the out-of-towners love hearing about), we decide next book club pick will be Margo’s Got Money Troubles by Rufi Thorpe.
The handsome guy, Colin, hangs back and we find ourselves chatting about what we’re reading. I tell him about what books I cover in my courses, and he tells me Emma, his confirmed friend, often picks out what they read.
“It’s nice to find a book club that offers a variety. We used to go to one at a brewery but after a while all they ended up choosing were thrillers. There are only so many Freida McFadden and Lisa Jewell books you can read in a row.”
I nod. “They have their place, but I agree. You need to space out thrillers like how you need to space out romances. If you don’t, you start to pick up on the similarities between the plotlines and run the risk of being predictable.”
I grab a couple of empty glasses and put them on the counter by the kitchen door, Colin trailing behind me. “So. You teach and work here? Sounds like a lot of work.”
I return back to my martini and drain the rest of it. “Actually, I’m a co-owner with Michael, the guy you saw floating in and out of the kitchen. He and I moved to town about ten years ago and opened the shop.”
“Oh, that’s cool. How long have you two been together?”
I laugh. “Oh, no-no-no. It’s not like that at all. We’re just really good friends.”
“You wish you could have this!” Michael yells from the kitchen door, winking in the direction of Colin.
Emma, who had been outside chatting with Sydney, pops back in the store. “You ready to go?”
“Sure,” Colin says, gathering up the books he purchased. He starts to head to the door, but stops a few steps from the table. “Could I…umm…take you out for a drink sometime?”
I walk over the cash register and grab one of our business cards, scribbling my number on the back of it. I hand it to Colin, who smiles seeing the number. “I’d love to. But, if we’re being transparent, I’m leaving to teach in Dublin at the end of the summer for possibly the next year.
“Well, I guess we’ll need to make the next few months count then.”
* * *
I’m leaning a stack of chairs from book club on the back wall when I hear the front door chime. Maybe Colin came back to bump up our impending date. “Sorry, we’ve just closed,” I say, as I turn around. It’s not Colin. It’s literally the last person I’m expecting to see.
Alex.
“Care to go for a round two?” I collect another armful of chairs and drop them with the rest. When I turn, Alex is still standing in the same spot. I feel my full body slump. “What do you want Alex?”
“I wanted to see if you’d apologize for your one-man show you put on the other day.”
A laugh escapes me uncontrollably. “You want me to apologize to you? For what…standing up for myself? Nuh uh. We’re not playing this game. You’re not guilting me into thinking I’m wrong. You can turn around and find your way out that door.”
He takes a few steps forward. “And do what exactly? Ignore each other all week until the trip to The Vineyard next weekend?”
I totally forgot we’re supposed to go up to Martha’s Vineyard to his family’s house next weekend. His sister’s engagement party was the center of the weekend, but it would have been the first time I was around his family for an extended period of time.
It was something I had been dreading for weeks.
The few times I had met Alex’s family they were pretty cold towards me.
I don’t think I quite fit their mold. His father, and now Alex, are lawyers, as is his sister’s fiancé.
His sister is one of the top cosmetic surgeons in the state, and his mother is a former politician.
They often talked amongst each other while I sat quietly at the table.
I remember one time his mother tried to engage in conversation with me, asking what I taught. I started to go into detail about my courses, and her response was that she found it curious why people would pay money to read made up stories.
Wait a second.
“You don’t honestly think I’m still going next weekend, do you?”
“Of course I do,” he says, closing the gap. “The guest list for the party was finalized weeks ago and we’re expected in attendance.”
“Oh, the guest list? We broke up Alex. I’m not going to go just to appease some fucking guest list. Take one of your friends.”
“We didn’t break up. We just had a fight. All couples fight Daniel. We’ll figure it all out once you move in.”
I look him in the face and, shockingly, find he’s dead serious.
“Alex, I know you don’t like hearing this word.
But, again, no. Not happening. It took a bit to realize, but you are a pretty fucking terrible human being.
I’m glad we had dinner the other night. Really shone a light on that I had settled for far too long. ”
I go to turn and Alex grabs my wrist. “No one talks to me that way.”
“And no one ever will again if you don’t fucking remove your hand off his arm.
” Michael and Sydney are standing at the kitchen door, Michael holding a rolling pin in his hand.
“Would be a shame if,” Michael points to the left corner, then the right, “the footage from those cameras were leaked to the public. Big hotshot attorney caught harassing and assaulting his ex at a beloved local business. Would. Be. A. Shame.”
Alex sneers in Michael’s direction, shoving my arm away from him. “Glad to see you need your ugly sidekick to finish your battles.” He turns and stomps across the floor, before opening and slamming the door shut behind him.
“You okay?” Sydney asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“Oh, yeah. Despite what you saw, he’s all talk. Pretty sure you could kick his ass.”
“Oh, I definitely could.”
Michael holds up two bottles of Nobilo. “Wanna get drunk?”