Chapter 7 #2
“Since we know where he’ll be coming from, I think you need to point out that romance novels don’t raise unrealistic expectations
any more than men’s adventure novels do for men,” Nola said as she moved her pen across the page.
Wait a minute. “You? Mom.”
Nola looked up. “What?”
“You said you. You’re going to be the debater. I’m just backup.” Being a good business partner and daughter.
“Of course,” Nola assured her. “I misspoke. But remember, you’re part of the team.”
Yes, the invisible part. “I know.”
Nola tapped her chin with her pen. “I wonder if we . . . I should really pin him down and ask him who hurt him? Who turned him into such a cynic?”
Alice smiled. “That would be interesting.”
“And does he really believe that women can’t tell the difference between fiction and reality?” Nola continued, writing furiously.
“Last I checked I hadn’t been searching any dating app for a vampire,” Alice said. She hadn’t been on any dating app, period.
“Oh, that’s cute,” her mother approved with a smile. “We need to continue to drive home the fact that romance novels are a
positive influence.”
Alice consulted her notes. “There’s evidence suggesting that romance novels can positively influence intimacy and satisfaction in relationships.”
“Excellent. Doesn’t every man want his wife inspired in the bedroom?” Nola posited as she wrote on her tablet.
Seeing her mother’s smile, Alice suspected Nola was thinking of her own marriage. Her parents had enjoyed a close relationship,
and she could still picture in her mind times that, as a child, she’d come upon them in the kitchen, sharing a kiss. The way
her father had looked at her mother—oh, how she would love to have a man look at her like that.
They continued their brainstorming, and after an hour Nola pronounced them ready for the big debate.
Alice nodded in agreement. She felt like she was back at Disneyland, getting a second chance to go ahead and ride Space Mountain.
But she didn’t want to. She wasn’t looking forward to this, even if her mother hadn’t required her to enter the fray. She’d
still be there on the battlefield, part of the whole uncomfortable exchange.
Her mother could read Alice’s emotions like a large print book. She laid a hand on Alice’s arm. “I appreciate your support.
You’re a smart woman, sweetie, and you’ve contributed some good points here. They’ll come in handy when we face Parker Black.”
“You,” Alice corrected automatically. She was aware of her mother studying her, and she suddenly felt squirmy.
“Sometimes I wonder if it was such a good idea to bring you into the bookstore,” Nola mused.
“What?” Good grief. Where had that come from? And why was her mother even saying such a thing? “I love the bookstore.”
“I know you do, and I love having you with me. With the book clubs you’ve started and the birthday discount program, the special parties like New Year’s in New York, you’re a big part of why we’ve been so successful. But it’s a constricted world. I worry that you don’t get out enough.”
“I get out,” Alice insisted.
“Going out with your sister or with Lina and Georgia doesn’t really count. You need to expand your borders.”
“I’ll go to the next Northwest Booksellers convention with you,” Alice promised. She wasn’t wild about the big crowds, but
she’d go. “I’ll join the gym.”
Wait a minute. What was she saying? She hated gyms, with their boats you rowed nowhere and bicycles that never left the spot
where they were anchored. And the women who always dressed to kill and looked like they could kill with those well-toned arms
and legs. But she’d do whatever she needed to. Anything.
“I’m not trying to remake you, sweetie, but I would like to see you spread your wings and fly a tiny bit. Join a club that’s
not a book club, go to a concert, take dancing lessons.”
And dance with strangers? Alice could feel the blood rushing from her face.
“I worry,” said Nola.
“No need to,” Alice assured her. “I’m happy here. I really am.”
She’d found her tribe. Just like in college, when she’d finally gotten to take classes in her major and had found other people
who loved talking about the Brontes and wishing Jane Austen had found her own real-life Mr. Darcy.
Nola nodded. “I hate to see you reading about love and talking about love but never experiencing it. I know you had your false
starts.”
Let’s not talk about that.
“I do believe that somewhere out there is the perfect man for you, someone who will appreciate your gentle spirit and kind
heart. Someone who might even bring out a little spunk in you.”
Alice the spunkless frowned. “Make me like Scarlet.”
“I don’t expect you to be like your sister. One Scarlet in a family is enough,” Nola said with a smile. “But I do want you
to become all that you can be.”
In the army. Wasn’t that their recruiting slogan? Alice’s frown dipped further south. “I will, Mom. Don’t worry about me.”
Nola smiled and let out a small resigned breath. “I know whatever your future holds it’s going to hold something good because
that’s what you deserve. And I really do love having you here in the store with me,” her mother concluded.
Good. That was settled.
“And I’ll be very happy to have you by my side for this debate.”
Where Alice would strive to prove to her mother and herself that even if she lived in a sheltered world, she could still be
a woman of the world. Now that they had their talking points, she assured herself that she could feel more confident. And
ready. To assist. This silly unease was totally unfounded. She would carry the flag in their verbal fight, and her mother
would fire the shots.
Nola sneezed.
“Mom, are you getting sick?” Alice asked in a panic. She was ready, but not to take on Parker Black single-handedly.
“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine,” Nola assured her.
“Take some cold meds and go to bed,” Alice said. “And don’t worry about coming in tomorrow. I’ve got it covered.”
Nola released a tired sigh and nodded. “You know, I think I will go to bed. I’m a little tired.”
“I’ll make you chicken soup,” Alice promised. Chicken soup fixed everything, right?
As soon as her mother went upstairs to bed, Alice raced back to her place. She took the last of a roasted chicken from her fridge, along with onion and celery, and some broth from the cupboard, and then got busy, cutting, cooking and stirring, all the while chanting, “Don’t be sick, don’t be sick.”
Nola didn’t look even remotely close to better when Alice delivered the soup the next morning.
“I think I will stay in bed today,” she said.
Nola Willoughby never stayed in bed. No, no, noooo.
Alice called later that day to see how her mother was doing.
“I think I’m feeling better,” Nola said, and barked out a cough. This was not good.
The chicken soup didn’t save the day. Come Friday morning Nola woke up with laryngitis. Hot tea with lemon and honey didn’t
help. Cough drops didn’t help.
“Try a little more tea,” Alice urged.
“No more tea,” Nola whispered. “It’s only going to make me have to run to the bathroom. We need to postpone this. I’m calling
the station.”
“If we back out now think of how it will look,” Alice protested. What to do though? Alice couldn’t take on Parker Black alone.
“I’ll call Scarlet. She can come over and help me debate him.” Scarlet would be perfect. She had the looks, she had the fire,
plus she hated Parker Black. “You can sit there, and she can do the talking. I’ll feed her the notes.”
“She’s working,” Nola pointed out in a whisper.
“I bet she can get away for a little while. She’ll love doing this.” Alice grabbed her mother’s phone, which was on the table,
and called her sister.
“Hey, Mom,” Scarlet answered. “Good luck with the debate.”
“It’s not Mom. It’s Alice.”
“Oh. Why are you calling me on Mom’s phone? Where’s Mom?”
“She’s here, but she can’t talk. I need you to come help me.”
“Alice, I’m in the middle of staging a house here and it’s got to be ready for the Realtor’s preview by one. The furniture just arrived. I can’t get away.”
“You have to. Mom’s got laryngitis and she can’t debate.”
“Well, you can still talk,” said Scarlet, sounding maddeningly reasonable.
“But we were going to do this together.”
“So have Mom sit next to you and smile and you talk.”
“I can’t,” Alice protested. “Mom was going to be the main debater.”
“For heaven’s sake, you talk about books all the time.”
“But not to him.” This wasn’t going to go well.
“Alice,” Scarlet said firmly. “Put on your big girl panties and do what you have to do.”
“Thanks a lot,” Alice said in disgust.
“You’ve got this. You’ll be fine.”
No, she wouldn’t.
“I’ll be listening. Go slay this.”
“She can’t come,” Nola guessed as Alice ended the call.
“No. She’s deserting us in our hour of need.” Having the nerve to work instead of dropping everything to come bail out her
gutless sister. That left only one option. “I’ll do it without her.” Had she just said that?
“I don’t want you to have to take him on by yourself,” Nola whispered.
“Someone has to.” Nora Roberts, help us!
“I don’t care if it’s last minute. We’ll cancel.” Nola reached for her phone.
Alice snatched it away. “No. We’re on in an hour. We can’t bow out like this.”
“Laryngitis is a reasonable excuse for postponing,” Nola said.
“But calling this late?” Now they only had forty minutes till showtime.
“He’ll think you’re faking. It will look completely unprofessional.
He’ll make us look like losers. Plus, we’ve told all our customers you’re going to be on the show.
They’ll all be listening. I can do it, Mom.
” They had their facts, their arguments.
She could be bold. “I’ll explain that you have laryngitis.
You sit there and smile. And be my coach. ”
Nola sighed.
“Weren’t you just saying I need to spread my wings and fly?”
“Well, yes.”
But from her mother’s expression Alice could tell she didn’t have much confidence in Alice’s wings.
Actually, neither did Alice. You can do this. Be bold!
Mom was right. They should have canceled.