Chapter 11 #2
“Very well.”
Emma hadn’t expected that either.
“She and Gloria became close. Rebecca was living in Miami when Gloria and I met, and she had my granddaughters with her constantly. Gloria became part of their lives too.”
Another piece of her grandmother’s life Emma had never known.
Instead of making her sad this time, it made her curious.
“What time tomorrow?”
“Three, if that suits you.”
“It does.”
Edmund reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out a small cream-colored card. An address on Simonton Street was written in the same careful handwriting as his letter.
Emma took it.
“Rebecca will make tea whether you want it or not.”
“Then I’ll drink tea.”
“That would make things easier for everyone.”
Emma smiled.
“Edmund, can I ask you one more thing?”
“Anything.”
“Did she love you? I mean, did she tell you that she did?”
The question came out more easily than Emma expected.
Edmund looked at her for a long moment.
“Yes.”
There was no hesitation.
“And I loved her.”
Emma swallowed.
“I’m glad.”
His expression changed.
“You are?”
“I didn’t know yesterday if I would be. I think I was worried I’d feel like there was this whole life she kept from me.”
“That would be understandable.”
“But sitting here listening to you, I don’t feel that way.”
Edmund waited.
“I’m glad she had you.”
His eyes filled then, and he looked down.
“Thank you, Emma.”
She reached across the small table and covered his hand with hers.
It felt like the right thing to do.
After a moment, Edmund turned his hand beneath hers and squeezed her fingers.
“Your grandmother would have liked this very much,” he said.
“What?”
“You and me sitting here.”
Emma smiled.
“I think I would have liked seeing the two of you together.”
“You would have found us extremely dull.”
“I doubt that.”
“You didn’t hear us argue about translations of Homer.”
“I don’t even know enough about Homer to argue about Homer.”
“Neither did Gloria. It never stopped her.”
Emma laughed again.
They stayed at the table for another twenty minutes and talked about smaller things.
Emma asked about Providence, and Edmund told her he had lived in the same house since 1979.
The man across the street played opera too loudly, something Edmund had complained about twice in forty years and admitted he would miss terribly if it ever stopped.
He asked about Chicago.
“I’ve been three times in my life,” he said. “All conferences and all too short. It’s an underrated city, and the people who live there seem oddly unwilling to say so.”
“We’re taught not to.”
“By whom?”
“I’ve never worked that out.”
Edmund smiled.
Then he asked whether she had people.
Emma thought first of Priya.
“She’s a pediatric nurse with two children, and she calls me at seven in the morning to tell me things that could absolutely have waited until noon.”
“She sounds formidable.”
“She is. She’s also the person I call when I don’t know what I’m doing, although I try not to let her know that.”
“I suspect she knows.”
“She probably does.”
“Rebecca has twin girls who are fifteen,” Edmund said. “For the last month they’ve been watching a Korean television program at the kitchen table. The subtitles move considerably faster than I can read them.”
“Do you watch with them?”
“I’ve tried four times. On my fourth attempt, I finally worked out that one of the men had a twin brother. I was so pleased with myself that I announced it.”
Emma smiled.
“The girls stopped the program and informed me that this had been revealed in the second episode. I’ve decided I’m rooting for the physical book to survive the century for entirely selfish reasons.”
Emma laughed.
It surprised her how easy it had become to sit with him.
An hour earlier, Edmund had been a stranger who knew things about her grandmother that Emma didn’t. Now he was still a stranger, but not in the same way.
When it was time to leave, he closed his book and stood carefully.
Emma stood with him. “You don’t have to walk me out.”
“I know.”
He did anyway.
They moved slowly through the used-book room and into the front of the store. Emma adjusted her pace without thinking about it.
At the door, Edmund held out his hand.
She took it.
He held hers a moment longer than a handshake required.
“Until tomorrow, Emma.”
“Tomorrow at three.”
“Rebecca will be watching for you.”
Emma smiled.
“Tell her I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
“I will.”
She stepped outside onto Elizabeth Street and stood beneath the awning.
The morning was bright, and people moved along the sidewalk carrying shopping bags and iced coffees. A bicycle passed in the street, followed by a scooter that seemed louder than it needed to be.
Emma barely noticed any of it.
She had come to The Reading Room expecting to learn about the man Gloria had loved.
Instead, she had learned more about her grandmother too.
Gloria had read books aloud in the evenings, argued about Homer, loved Willa Cather and O Pioneers!
, and had once looked at Edmund and told him Emma looked exactly like her father.
Emma thought about the letter waiting for her on Simonton Street.
Tomorrow she would finally read what Gloria had wanted to tell her.
She started toward her car, then stopped and looked back through the bookstore window.
Edmund was still standing near the door.
He raised his hand.
Emma raised hers before turning toward the street, and this time she knew exactly which way she was going.