Chapter 7
Alice hit send for their store special edition newsletter, announcing the day and time of their debate with Parker Black.
Her mother was determined to get the word out to as many women as possible. To Alice the whole debate still seemed like an
exercise in futility. It was a sports show, for heaven’s sake. His listeners weren’t their people, and they didn’t want to
be.
“A sports show that’s making fun of romance novels,” Bettina said in response to Alice’s concerns when Alice emerged from
the back room to announce that the newsletter had gone out. “Ask me how much sense that makes. The man needs help.”
Something had pulled Parker Black off track, that was for sure. Alice had checked out one of his podcasts where he’d been
ranting about the inaccuracies in a particular sports romance. Well, there was his excuse for dissing the genre, she supposed.
“If you’re not into sports, don’t pretend you are,” he’d said. “And don’t pretend you know something.” Parker Black was definitely
on the proverbial soapbox. And his callers had agreed. This was going to be a tough crowd.
“There won’t be any women tuning in, and she’ll be outnumbered and ganged up on,” Alice argued. “I still think this is a waste of time. It’ll be Mom against him and his fans.”
“Not now with word getting out. Our book girlies will show up and your mom will have plenty of fans in her corner,” Bettina
said.
“It’s not like we’re going to be in a stadium where everyone has seats and can root for us,” Alice pointed out.
“Yes, but they’ll be in the store. Maybe people will even be able to call in.”
“It’s in his best interest to allow that. He thrives on controversy,” said Nola, finally joining the conversation just as
a customer came up with a book she’d selected to purchase.
“Are you doing something special I need to know about?” the woman asked.
“My daughter and I are going to be debating Parker Black on his sports show,” Nola told her. “He’s the one—”
The woman held up a hand. “No need to tell me,” she said with a frown. “My husband and my son both listen to him. My husband
listens for the sports talk and just thinks this weird kick the man is on is a passing thing, but my son is eating it all
up faster than cupcakes. The other night he was talking about how women take advantage of men. This from the boy who doesn’t
have a steady girlfriend and still lives at home and gets his laundry done and all his meals cooked by me.”
“How old is he?” asked Alice, picturing a boy maybe just out of high school.
“He’s twenty-two. It’s time he moved out.”
“Maybe so,” Nola said diplomatically.
“I’m not into sports, and I don’t like that show, but I’ll listen and comment,” the woman promised. “When are you on?”
“This coming Friday,” Alice told her, and her heart rate goosed up simply at the mention of it.
“We’re having a party here that morning to listen to the show. Coffee and muffins at nine,” Bettina added.
“Good for you. I’ll be there to cheer for you. Some men need to be put in their place.”
Parker Black certainly did, but Alice was glad she wouldn’t be the one doing it. Her mother would handle all the heavy lifting.
All she had to do was take care of the pre-debate research and be there for support.
Two more customers came in. One of them strolled over to the romantasy section. The other one, Julia Whitehorn, made the proverbial
beeline for Alice, which meant that, at least for a short while, Alice wouldn’t have time to obsess over the upcoming debate.
Julia’s divorce had become final right before Thanksgiving and had hit her hard. Once a happy soccer mom, shuttling kids back
and forth between their many extracurricular activities, she was now a despondent divorcée, still trying to come to grips
with her husband’s extracurricular activities, which had ended their marriage.
“We were at our high school reunion. There was the old girlfriend, newly divorced and needing a shoulder to cry on,” Julia
had confided in Alice.
Everyone confided in Alice. Sometimes she felt like she was working in a confessional instead of a bookstore.
“Next thing I know he’s changed the password on his phone,” Julia had continued. “And then he wants a divorce. I’ve lost all
faith in love.” And to prove it, she’d dropped out of both the Back in Time and the Closed-Door romance book clubs, not wanting
to be around the other members. “It’s too hard. They’re all happy,” she’d said.
Alice wasn’t sure that was the case. She knew of a couple marriages that were struggling, including her own sister’s.
She couldn’t stand to see Julia so disheartened, so she’d purchased a book for her and sent it to her as an early Christmas present. You’ll find someone better, she’d written in the note she’d enclosed, and hoped she knew what she was talking about.
Really, she didn’t know anything. She was no expert on love. But she was an expert on books and knew which ones would make
a woman reach for the tissue box, which ones could make her laugh and which ones would leave her feeling encouraged. And which
ones would manage to accomplish all three.
Julia had appreciated Alice’s gesture and enjoyed the book. She’d come into the bookstore looking for more of the same, and
Alice had introduced her to an author she was positive Julia would enjoy. “She writes second-chance romance, and she knows
what she’s talking about,” Alice had said. “The writer’s husband left her, but in the end, she had the last laugh. Another
man came along who is simply amazing. He’s her soulmate and they travel all over the world together. Her life now is ten times
better than the one she’d had with her first husband.”
Julia had indeed loved the book, especially the author’s letter to the reader:
You hear about other women getting hurt, being betrayed by the one they love and you think it can’t happen to you. But then
it does, and you start to think that it’s not worth it to try again, that what you read in a romance novel is nothing more
than fiction and that finding genuine true love can’t happen to you. But it can. I’m living proof.
Alice had the entire letter memorized.
“She’s had it happen to her. That means it could happen to you, too,” Alice had assured Julia, and Julia returned and bought
the author’s other two novels.
Now here she was, back and hungry for more happiness and encouragement. “Who else can I read?” she asked Alice.
“I have just the author,” Alice said, and led the way to the opposite wall in the store. “She used to live in Seattle. This
is her debut novel. It’s selling really well. The hero is to die for.”
“Will I die with a smile on my face?” Julia quipped.
“Possibly,” said Alice. She pulled the book off the shelf and handed it to Julia.
Julia looked at the cover with the two characters standing back-to-back. “Does it have a happy ending?”
“Oh, yes,” Alice assured her. “The baddie in it is simply awful, and it’s so satisfying to see him get what he deserves in
the end.”
“I’m all about the baddie getting what he deserves in the end,” Julia said. “I’ll take it.”
“I hope you’ll like it,” said Alice as they walked back to the counter where her mother was ringing up a sale for the other
customer who’d come in.
“Alice, I like everything you recommend,” said Julia.
Nola had overheard. “She has a gift for knowing what people need.”
“It’s sure worked for me,” said Julia.
It was nice to be so praised, nice that her mother thought she had a gift.
Nice. The word seemed to sum up her life. She was nice, her job was nice, her book besties online were nice, her little one-bedroom
ADU behind her mother’s house was nice, her cat was nice.
Vanilla ice cream was nice. But when paired with hot fudge sauce and whipped cream it was delicious. Was there a way she could
make her life a little less vanilla and a little more yummy? Where was the hot fudge sauce?
Kara Bane stopped by the bookstore on her way home from work. “Did you guys save me the sequel for Hexing the Gods?”
Vampires, witches and things that went bump (very loudly) in the night weren’t Alice’s thing, but she’d known Kara loved spicy
tales with fiery, kick-ass heroines, and Alice had recommended the first book in the series to her. The second book had come
out, and Kara was ready to devour it.
“Of course, we did,” said Alice, and got it for her.
There’s a heroine who’s far from vanilla, she thought as she rang up the sale. The strength of the series’ anchor character was truly inspiring. And the sexy vampire
she was in love with was everything a man should be. Well, minus the blood-sucking part. Why was it that even the most evil
character in those dark books turned noble when it came to winning his woman’s love? Could love light a darkened heart? Could
a man truly change for the woman he loved?
Parker Black came to mind.
Probably not.
“All right,” Nola said as she and Alice settled on her couch after work with their hot chocolate and cheese and crackers to
prep for the debate, Alice with her notes and iPad and Nola with her favorite yellow legal pad. “Let’s pull together our talking
points.”
“I wish I knew what his were,” Alice said.
“I’m sure it will be the usual: Romance is inferior, it’s nothing but porn, it’s not realistic. So, what do we want Parker
Black and his band of bad boys to know about romance novels and the women who read them?” Nola prompted.
Alice gave a corner of her lower lip a gentle chew. “That they encourage love and sacrifice?”
She started to type but her mother’s words stopped her. “He’ll just say something obnoxious, like men are expected to do all the sacrificing. We have to go beyond that.”
“That they give women hope?”
“Okay. How can we elaborate on that?”
“Even if you’re going through something bad, you read about people realizing they can overcome their differences and build
a life together, and it makes you want to do that, too.”
“Well said, daughter.” Nola began writing on her legal tablet even as Alice tapped away on her iPad.