Chapter Twenty-Four
Twenty-Four
Humans do all sorts of things that will never make sense to me.
For example, why are they so preoccupied with whether anything’s coming out of their noses?
Why do they make important life decisions based on pieces of paper with dead people on them?
And don’t get me started on how eager they are to see one another’s hairless bodies, yet they insist on wearing clothing all day.
But the way they can’t stop saying the name of the person they’re smitten with: That I understand, as nothing made me happier than when my Amelia said my name. And, of course, Miguel was so enamored with her that he used both of hers.
So, when his face brightens the next morning when he tells Dane about his picnic with Fiona, I know—I just know—that she is taking up space in his mind in the exact way I’ve been hoping she would.
Still, I’m not prepared when Fiona appears at the bookstore a little while later with Amelia Mae, and he leans in and kisses her cheek.
It’s not a mouth kiss, but I’ll confess: There’s a tiny part of me that feels sad.
Because if I could have anything I wanted, Fiona would be my Amelia, who would be alive, and my mission would be to love her—not replace her.
But a duty is not up for debate, and who am I to judge when he finally seems, well, nearly normal again?
Behind the register, Dane’s making googly eyes at Riley, who’s pretending to straighten up the magazine racks as she tries not to laugh. Then they’re in on this, too. Excellent.
“We get the official tour before we leave?” says Fiona, directing her dazzling smile at Miguel.
“Absolutely—I apologize for not doing that when you were in the other day.”
“No apology needed,” she tells him.
“Well, I’ve already seen the whole store,” says Amelia Mae. “I’m going to go sit in the reading nook, then maybe peruse Stabby Peeps again while I still can. You kids go on without me.”
Fiona laughs, but she smells a little anxious, too—and finally, it’s not on account of me. I decide to trail after them to keep watch.
“Ooh, you moved Romance to the front of the store?” she says to Miguel as they pause in front of the shelves Riley and Dane just finished setting up. “That’s a rare and welcome sight.”
“It was Riley’s idea,” he tells her. He keeps walking until he realizes Fiona’s paused and is browsing the titles. He frowns. “I didn’t take you for a romance reader.”
She plucks a paperback from the shelves. “I read all kinds of stories,” she says, her eyes running over the words on the cover. She returns the book to its spot, then looks at him and smiles. “And who doesn’t like love?”
I almost expect him to balk, given how he responded to Riley after she suggested the change.
But he just touches Fiona’s back lightly and smiles, and then her expression morphs from sunny to a full solar flare.
She likes him, too—a whole lot, especially the way he responds to her, the way he sees her.
I couldn’t be more pleased if he’d just given me a whole roast chicken with a donut on top.
“Remind me, how many people were you expecting for Jon’s event?”
“More than a hundred.” She whistles, which makes him laugh. “People came in from all over the area. About twenty-five of those were VIP tickets—they paid extra to meet with Jon after his talk.”
“You have capacity for that many?” she asks, glancing around.
He nods. “Amelia always thought big. We rent the building from Riley’s Aunt Kathy, and she gave us a steal on the lease. Unfortunately, our rent is going up significantly in September. Even beyond the event and the issue with Amelia’s parents, that’s another part of the problem.”
“ ‘You mustn’t confuse a single failure with a final defeat,’ ” says Fiona.
He cocks his head. “It’s a great quote, but Fitzgerald died with a pickled liver thinking the world had forgotten about Gatsby. Not sure we should be taking life advice from that guy.”
“You know he was sober and in love?” she volleys back. “He fell for Sheilah Graham, a gossip columnist who lived in his building. She helped him give up booze and find some happiness in his last act.”
“You’re like a literary encyclopedia.”
“Wait until you meet my brother.” She cringes as she realizes what she said.
“I suspect that won’t be happening this century,” he responds, but for once, he’s not upset, or even melancholy.
In fact, I daresay there’s a spring in his step as he shows her Stabby Peeps and the children’s section and then shuffles her over to Historical Fiction.
They’ve just finished up in Sci-Fi when she gestures for Miguel to walk with her toward the window.
I follow them, pretending like I’m trying to find the right place to lie down on the rug.
“The bookstore is wonderful,” she says. “As I thought it would be—but still.”
“Thank you.”
“I do have an idea about how to help. With the store, I mean.”
“As much as I appreciate your offer, I’m never going to cash a check from you,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“I know. But I’m not talking about a freebie, since you’ve made your feelings on that clear. I could give you a loan, or even buy a minor stake in Lakeside.”
He shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but because your brother has written extensively about your childhood, I’m guessing you’re not sitting on a trust fund.”
“You’re right, but I’m in a good financial position. Jon pays me for the work I do for him, and I’ve been a careful investor, especially these last few years. This would be another investment.”
“But…you’re in Chicago.”
“I’m not suggesting we move, but I like it here—as Amelia Mae’s pointed out, the town’s extremely charming. I guess I’m thinking of her in all this, too; she’s taken a shine to Lakeside Books, to say nothing of your dog.”
I’m already grinning when he glances at me. This is a brilliant idea! The best yet! Say yes, Miguel!
Fiona continues. “I wouldn’t want to tell you how to run your shop, and your team seems incredibly competent,” she says, nodding to where Riley and Dane are standing, heads together, near the register.
“And you’re obviously working hard to come up with new plans.
I guess what I’m saying is that I have faith that you’ll figure it out, and maybe this could help in the interim.
It wouldn’t be a burden for me and Amelia Mae to take the train to Michigan from time to time without being under your feet too much. ”
“You wouldn’t be under anyone’s feet,” he says, his voice even lower than usual.
“No?”
Miguel hesitates, then says, “I’d like to see more of you.”
She swallows hard. “I’d like that, too.”
I’m ready to start barking with excitement when he adds, “But…”
“Go ahead,” she tells him. “I hope by now you’ve gathered that you can be honest with me.”
He wrinkles his nose. “It’s just that I’m not sure I want investors.”
“You’re right,” she says quickly. “Jon’s always saying I’m overly optimistic about my ability to fix things.”
“I don’t think that’s a bad trait,” he says, reaching for her arm.
“So you won’t mind too much if I keep trying to come up with some way to help?”
“While you really don’t have to, I’m honored that you’d want to try.”
“It’s not so much a matter of wanting as being unable to turn my brain off,” she says.
He smiles. “That’s one of the best things about you.”
“That opinion puts you in a very small pool of people, so thank you.” Fiona looks past him at the big clock on the wall behind the register. “I hate to say it, but our train leaves in just over an hour. I should probably round up Amelia Mae and head back to the bed-and-breakfast.”
“Do you need a ride to the train station?”
She shakes her head. “The owner offers a shuttle.” She hesitates, then leans in and hugs him. “It’s been wonderful spending this time with you.”
“I’m glad you came,” he says gruffly. In a lighter tone, he adds, “I hope the next visit doesn’t involve your daughter getting on public transportation alone.”
“Does that mean we can come back sometime soon?” says Amelia Mae, who’s just popped up between them.
“I’d like to.” Fiona looks at Miguel. “If you’re okay with it, that is.”
“Absolutely,” he says.
He sounds like he means it—and I’m sure part of him does. But having spent nearly my entire existence with the man, I don’t need to speak human to know what he’s not saying: He’s afraid of betraying the one person he will always love more than life itself.
The question is, is that enough to keep him from loving Fiona, too?