Chapter Two
Two
We’re at the store—we’re at the store! No wonder Miguel woke me up.
He knows this is my very favorite place other than his and Amelia’s bed, except I’m actually allowed here.
I go round and round the aisles and their miles of books.
People sit. They stay. Sometimes they even bring their dogs. It smells like adventure.
The front doors are deep green, or so everyone says; I can only really see blue and yellow.
And Dane painted a rainbow across the picture window facing the street, right below the Lakeside Books sign.
I’ve just barely bounded inside when Riley greets me.
“Good morning, Harold! How are we feeling?” she asks.
Her long braids make a curtain around us as she bends to scratch behind my ears.
If Miguel and Amelia had ever had a daughter, she’d have been just like Riley, whose nose is always in a novel.
She’s a walking card catalog, says Miguel, though I don’t actually know what that means.
I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact that you can tell Riley “grieving travel writer” and “dog trainer” and she’ll think for a moment, then exclaim, “The Accidental Tourist!” and fetch you a copy.
Customers love her. So do I, and not just because she slips me bites of her donuts, knowing full well they’ll turn me into a stink bomb. Riley’s the best.
I push my head into her hand to show her that although I did feel a tad stiff in the hips after the car ride over, I’m better already.
“Excellent,” she says. “Me, too. I’m going to try to sell a lot of books today.”
Yes, I’d like that. Amelia would be so pleased to know the bookstore’s holding on.
It was more important to her than anything aside from me and Miguel and her own books.
Amelia wrote romance novels, one after another; I heard Dane tell Riley that she sold a series about a bunch of sexy siblings and used that money to start the store.
Her parents called her books “smut,” and even some of our customers think romance is cheesy.
But Amelia’s readers adored her stories—and like she used to say, what kind of monster doesn’t love love?
“Harold, come get some water,” says Miguel, trying to guide me to the back of the store. “You’ve got to stay hydrated.” When I push my paws against the tile, trying to resist, he frowns and examines me. “?Qué te pasa? ?Te sientes bien?”
I raise my head to indicate that I am feeling perfectly normal. Mildly wonderful, even!
It wasn’t always like this. We had a nice understanding, Miguel and I: We shared a person, and for her alone, we were content to coexist while staying out of each other’s way.
Now he’s under the impression that I can’t make it down the block without his assistance when I’m the one who’s supposed to be taking care of him.
Dane’s at the register. Unlike Riley, who’s been at Lakeside only a few years, he was one of the first people Amelia hired.
He’s got hair like a molting dandelion and a summer-day smile.
Miguel may claim I’m his only friend, but Dane’s determined to prove him wrong, especially now that Amelia’s gone.
“Hey, chief,” he says to Miguel. “Looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed today! You get my message about Kathy?” Kathy owns our building.
She’s also Riley’s aunt, which is how Riley ended up working here.
“She’s been trying to get in touch with you. ”
Miguel sighs. “I’d have to listen to my answering machine to get the message. But I already paid the rent, and the plumbing seems to be working, at least for now. Whatever she needs can wait until after I’m done checking our JMB inventory.”
“I already did that.”
“You trying to take my job?”
“I’m trying to be helpful. Also, you’re welcome.”
“Thank you. Also, you’re fired.”
Dane smirks. “Nice try. You can’t fire me—customers like me too much. Or at least I like them, which is basically the same thing.”
“I assure you it’s not.”
“You want Jeannie back here? Suit yourself.”
Jeannie was always wagging her finger at kids and telling them that Lakeside’s a bookstore, not a library.
Amelia rehomed her at a gift shop the next town over.
“Books are replaceable,” she explained to Miguel when he protested because finding year-round employees in a tourist town isn’t easy. “Our customers aren’t.”
“The longer you keep talking, the more I’m considering selling Jeannie this business so she can manage you,” Miguel tells Dane, but he’s looking at a couple of teens near the comic book racks.
Then he glances at me and frowns. “I’m aware that you don’t want to do inventory with me, Harold. How about you hang out here?”
“He can stock with me,” says Riley, who’s just wheeled over a big metal cart loaded with books.
“Okay,” Miguel agrees. “But please make sure he doesn’t overexert himself.”
Riley winks at me. “I promise to make him go nap on the rug the minute he looks pooped.”
I’m happy to trail after her, even if fresh ink doesn’t smell nearly as nice as the kind that’s had a chance to settle.
Miguel says publishers care most about selling books right after they’re published.
But the ones that are no longer new—like dogs, those need a home most of all.
This is where Riley comes in. Read all of Jude Deveraux’s backlist?
You’re overdue for some Beverly Jenkins.
Dug Dalva? Love Medicine’s the real deal.
She sells as many books as all our other employees combined.
Miguel says that if she ever left, we’d be sunk.
Today, we’re stocking adult fiction. We start with Sci-Fi and Historical before moving to Stabby Peeps, as Dane named the Mysteries and Thrillers section.
Then we fill regular Fiction, and don’t ask me how that’s different from the rest. Last, there’s Romance, which is located at the back of the store because some people are sheepish about buying what they like—or maybe it’s because of that one shirtless guy with the flowing hair on so many of the covers.
Either way, it’s the section we end up restocking most frequently.
Riley and I are just wrapping up when Kathy comes flying into the bookstore, her flowered tent of a dress billowing behind her.
Amelia adored Kathy but admitted privately that she could be a wee bit flaky.
Now, flaky is just the thing when it comes to baked goods.
But since Miguel often wanted the toilet fixed the same week it stopped working, she’s not his type of treat.
Still, she never raised the rent more than inflation, and although I’m not clear on what that means, Lakeside has been able to stay in the same location all this time.
Meanwhile, the psychic who told Dane he’d already met the love of his life has moved up and down the block a bunch of times, and the falafel place has switched spots twice.
“Miguel! We need to talk!” Kathy calls, even though Miguel’s nowhere to be seen. “Riley, where is he? I saw his car. I know he’s here.”
“Hi, Auntie,” Riley says, grimacing at Dane.
“I’ll go get him, Kathy,” says Dane, giving Riley bug eyes from the register. “You make yourself comfortable.”
“Child, it’s 2003. I haven’t been comfortable since 1979.” She grabs her tortoiseshell eyeglasses, which are hanging from one of the many necklaces around her neck, and sets them on her nose. “But I’ll look for the new Nora while I wait.”
On Riley’s recommendation, Kathy ends up with a Nora Roberts novel and two from Connie Briscoe. She’s just cracked one open when Miguel finally emerges from the stockroom. He tries to force a smile, but it’s no use. “Kathy, what brings you in?” he asks.
“Well,” she says, peering at him over the top of her glasses. “What brings me in is you not returning my calls, not to mention running out the back door when you spotted me last week.”
So…she did see that.
“Sorry,” he says, and while I’m not excited to see him sheepish, at least he cares—even two or three seasons ago, that wouldn’t have been true. “I haven’t been in the chattiest mood lately.”
“Miguel, I’d love to hear about a single day in your life you were chatty. All the same, apology accepted. Is there a good place for us to talk shop?”
He gestures to the reading nook, which is tucked into one of the front corners of the store, and the three of us amble over there. Kathy plops down in the yellow armchair, but Miguel stands next to the sofa with his arms crossed over his chest.
“You got July’s rent, right?” he asks her. “I dropped it off almost a week ago.”
She leans back. “I know you did—and in the spirit of ‘better late than never,’ thank you. But this isn’t about that.”
He frowns and waits for her to continue.
“Mr. Rivera, I feel like we’ve been in business together long enough for me to be frank with you.”
He nods.
“I appreciate that. Long story short, I received an offer to buy the building.”
“This one?” he says, retracting his head like a turtle. “Are you evicting us?”
“No, no, no,” Kathy says quickly. “The offer’s good.
Better than I expected, if I’m being honest. But you know I’m fond of Lakeside, and I don’t want to put my own niece out of the job that suits her so well.
Besides, this isn’t the first time someone’s tried to buy—it’s just the first time I had to consider selling. ”
The air-conditioning’s on, but Miguel’s face is starting to drip. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“Well, the upkeep on this fossil is more expensive by the hour. The bigger issue is, I’m getting old, and money’s tighter than it should be—my investments have taken a huge hit because of this whole Iraq War mess.
I refuse to ask my kids to pay for my care once I’m drooling on myself.
Which means I need to make some difficult decisions. ”
Miguel, still as a stone, says nothing.