Chapter 83
“You were fabulous, Tesser.” Henry had thrown his arms around her, even as she still sat in the interview chair, muted microphone still attached to her lapel, and the onlookers from the sidewalk poured into the bookstore.
Chairs clanked, the audience buzzed, and store owner Vivian, beaming, stood with hands clasped in delight.
The interview had been over in a heartbeat. Tessa barely remembered what she said, or what Abby Adams in New York had asked, not one word of any of it. Except the producer, who’d slashed a finger across her throat and said, “And we’re clear.”
“Really? Fabulous? Really?” she asked Henry now, as Rebecca unclipped her mic. “I don’t remember what I said. Not at all.”
And we’re clear , Rebecca had said. Nothing had gone wrong. Was it over? Or just beginning?
Her cell phone pinged from her jacket pocket, then again, and again. She glanced at it, Hoping it was good news. Team Tessa loves you! I’m posting on Facebook and everywhere right now . DJ had written. You’re the queen! Olivette had said. Sadie sent a string of hearts.
Great job, Annabelle said.
“You were so cool, Mom.” Linny had ducked her head under Henry’s arm, getting closer to Tessa. Zack had come up behind him, too. “Awesome,” he said. “We watched on Dad’s phone.”
She drew them into hugs, and over her shoulder saw Nellie, had to be, her arm around the shoulders of her gangly Tris. No sign of Barbara. No sign of Emily.
Vivian stood facing the first row of chairs, clapped her hands, quieting the attendees.
“We’ll have a signing,” the store owner said. “Let us get things back into place.” She pointed. “There’s a rack of Tessa’s books, if you don’t already have one, she’ll be happy to sign as many as you like. Right, Tessa?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “As a souvenir of this special occasion.”
“I have to do this,” Tessa said to her family. “Don’t leave, though. We’ll go home together.”
“Looks like you’re about to sell some books,” Henry said. “And this is Nellie Delaney, by the way, and her son, Tris.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Tessa said.
“You mean Linny’s hair, I bet.” Nellie leaned closer, whispering, gestured to one side of her own hair. “She’d gotten bubble gum in it. She was so upset. And embarrassed. I tried to make the best of it. I hope I didn’t—”
“Thank you,” Tessa said. “I—”
There was no time for anything more, or to hear Nellie’s answer, as Tessa was hustled to her signing table. Book buyers, some carrying several periwinkle copies, had lined up, waiting, and more people were still coming through the front door. The power of television , Tessa thought.
The power of storytelling, Annabelle said.
She felt a presence behind her, and turned to see a woman in oversized dark glasses and a Game of Thrones cap pulled low over her forehead. Her heart leaped—then she almost burst out laughing. Emily.
“I got these from a display,” Emily whispered. “I’ll stay in back of the shelf behind you. But I don’t see anyone I know.”
“You’re hilarious,” Tessa whispered. “Keep looking. Hide. They may not come.”
As Emily vanished again, and the signing line continued, there were moments when Tessa forgot her life was under siege.
Women with periwinkle earrings, and earnest confessions, women with their daughters who described how sharing Tessa’s book had brought them together.
She lost sight of Henry and the kids, and not a sound from Emily behind her.
The store had opened for business, too, so the aisles filled with shoppers and browsers.
“Carol with an e ?” Tessa asked the next woman in line.
“Tessa?” Rebecca, still wearing her wired earpiece and with a coiled cable hanging from one shoulder, came up beside the customer. “New York loved you. Abigail’s happy. We’ll send you a mug, okay?”
Tessa stood, wishing things hadn’t gone by so quickly. The good parts of her life, the joy of her success, those moments seemed to vanish before she could adequately appreciate them. “Tell everyone thank you,” she said. “I—”
But Rebecca was gone.
“Sorry for the interruption,” Tessa told the customer. “So—Carol with an e ?”
“Mom, Mom!” Tessa heard Zack’s enthusiastic voice, and followed the sound. Her son was hurrying toward her. And Zack was leading, by the hand, a tall, thin, blond woman carrying a periwinkle book. With a face Tessa would never forget. Harper.
“Mom, Mom,” Zack said. “This is—”
“I’ll be right with you, honey.” Tessa turned back to Carol or Carole, trying not to faint. “This has been quite the day. So, with an e ?”
“No e . And I love your book so much.”
“That’s wonderful.” Tessa handed her the book. “And I hope you’ll keep in touch.”
“I promise,” Carol said.
“Mom. Mom .” Zack had brought the woman to the table. “She’s my mom,” he explained to the next woman in line. “This is our neighbor. She has to leave. Can we—”
“Aw, that’s so cute,” the customer said, stepping aside, gesturing Zack and Harper in front of her. “Please. Go ahead. You must be so proud of your mother.”
“I am,” Zack said. “Mom, she’s the one who—”
“Yes, I know,” Tessa said. No more gray wig, no more oversized baseball-mom attire, no more suited author escort. “Barbara. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Your interview was marvelous, Tessa,” the woman said. “I bet you sold lots of books.”
Tessa took one from the stack next to her. “Let me sign one for you.”
“That’s not necess—”
“Zackie,” Tessa interrupted, “can you go get your dad? Now? Good. And yes, Barbara, I insist.” Tessa flapped open the book.
Watched Zack trot away. And wrote, I have the money you’ve asked for.
After the signing, meet me in back of the store.
And we’ll be done. Just say “that’s perfect” when you read this.
Smiling her bookstore smile, she handed the book across the table. Waited. Watched.
“That’s perfect,” the woman said.