Chapter 19
Dot’s chartered bus idea was coming together nicely.
Kitty had secured a block of fifty seats for their guests, right in front of the debate stage. Thirty seats were already taken.
Rose got a few of her friends from church to say yes. She’d promised them cans of Spotted Cow on the way back.
Fletcher was posting on social to get the word out and build For the Win’s brand as a player. And he was beta testing a new app with ActBlue to keep track of everyone’s contact information—possibly the most valuable part of the operation.
The family-owned And That’s a Wrap just off Main on Washington Street was on board to make boxed dinners with a choice of buffalo chicken salad, ham on cheddar, turkey with muenster, or roasted vegetables and sprouts.
Over at Flour Power, Mimi immediately posted one of the flyers and agreed to make sweet treats for the snack bags.
“I’m thinking Wisconsin-shaped icebox cookies, frosted with royal blue?” Dot suggested.
“On it.” Mimi planned to make lots of extras they could pass out in the greenroom.
That afternoon, Dot thought she’d pop into the Reader Falls Bookshop to try her luck there.
She’d been meaning to visit the shop—she loved a good independent bookstore.
When she was very young, she’d spend hours in Coliseum Books with her grandmother.
She missed that store—and of course that special woman who loved her.
She put the No Lie with Brian Tyler Cohen podcast on to listen to while she walked.
The topic was beating Republicans at their own game in the culture wars—as it had been for as long as she was listening to liberal podcasts.
Her father teased her that she’d never have survived the Rush Limbaugh days.
“Who’s Rush Limbaugh?” she’d asked.
“Oh my gosh. Google it,” he’d said, exasperated at feeling older than his years in that moment.
Mercifully, the weather had given them a break from the extreme cold. The sun shone on blond-brick historical buildings that made up almost all downtown Cedar Falls. In some ways, they reminded her of the Buckley.
She stopped for a moment on the bridge to look at the frozen Cedar Creek under her and admired a mural of Wisconsin history called Founded 1862 that covered the entire side of the best clothing stores in town, Mills and Twills.
Feeling the chill, she moved along and reached her destination.
As she opened the door to the bookstore, a little bell rang, and she smelled the moldy scent of old books.
The store was warm; a little stuffy, a little dusty.
Thick, faded antique carpets covered well-worn hardwood floors, and the building’s original tin tiles lined the ceiling.
The bookcases heaved, and the shelves weren’t level; you had to tilt your head more than usual to read the titles on the spines.
The store was divided with fiction on the right, nonfiction on the left, with a special section for “state and local authors” and the history of Cedar Falls and Wisconsin near the front window.
She picked up Raft of Stars by Andrew Graff—she liked the cover.
She tucked it under her arm to purchase before she left the store.
Distressed leather couches and chairs were placed all around; seats where customers could sink in and stay awhile. A reading corner for kids was set up in the back. It had colorful beanbags and Bucky Badger held a sign for a children’s reading hour, 4 p.m. Wednesdays and 10 a.m. Saturdays.
Dot noticed a local artwork display on one wall, and a big community board with ads for piano lessons, babysitting, tutoring, and a polar bear ice plunge (Never! she thought.)
She looked around for someone to ask permission from before tacking her flyer up.
A small-boned woman of about sixty with blond hair cut in a short bob and bright blue eyes was standing by the new releases moving books around. She wore a navy turtleneck under a long-sleeved plaid flannel shirt, jeans, and lace-up boots that looked like they’d been through a lot.
“Excuse me, do you work here?” Dot used her quiet bookstore voice.
“Not anymore. Spent several years and nearly half of my paychecks on books after high school here, though.” The woman laughed and stuck out her hand. “I’m Grace Taylor.”
“Hi, Grace. Nice to meet you. Dot Clark.” They shook hands. Grace had a firm grip for such a small person.
“Are you new to town?” Grace asked.
“Yes, I’m from Manhattan and working with a Democratic group through the election.”
“Aha. I’ve only ever been to Big Appleton.”
“You’ve never been to the city?” Dot couldn’t believe that. She thought everyone had been to New York at least once. “Oh, you must go. You’d love it!”
“Well, it’s hard to get away with the farm, but I’d like to go one day.” She gestured around the new releases. “And all these books seem to have a connection to it somehow. I’ve read so much about New York I almost feel like I know the place. Seems dangerous. And romantic. And exciting, of course.”
“Oh, it is. It’s . . . everything.” Dot felt personally responsible to make sure everyone loved New York as much as she did. “This town, however, is just totally adorable.”
“Yes. It’s a wonderful place to live. Been here my entire life.
We work hard to keep it the way it is. Outside forces are always trying to get their noses under the tent.
” She gestured toward the front door at the outside forces.
“Anyway, was there a book you’re looking for?
Maybe I can help. I still know my way around. ”
“I’m definitely getting this book,” she said, holding up the novel she’d already picked up. “But first, I’m wondering if I could post a flyer on the notice board.” She handed one over. “It’s an invitation for a free round-trip bus to the Democratic debate in Madison next week.”
“A debate already?” She put the back of her hand to her forehead. “It’s hard to believe it’s that time again. We never got over the last election. Or the one before that.” Grace sighed.
“I can imagine what it’s like during elections season, especially since both sides need Wisconsin in order to win.”
“Well, it’s terrible. You can’t even turn on the TV toward the end of it. But we’ll get through it. We always do. At any rate, I’m sure the owners would be happy to let you do that. They’re probably in the back. I’ll go check.”
Grace disappeared and Dot picked up a couple of titles she’d seen on BookTok and set them aside to buy with the one she already had.
Buying books was one of her indulgences and she realized she could just check these out on the online library.
But she loved the hard copy. And besides, she could share them with Mary and Harper.
A mini book club with wine was one of her favorite weeknight events.
A few minutes later, Grace returned with an older couple who walked arm in arm.
Dot guessed them to be in their late seventies.
The man had a kind face with blue eyes and was mostly bald with just a little bit of gray hair sprouting above his ears and around the back of his head.
His wife had a pretty shade of white hair that she wore in a medium-length pageboy cut, parted on the side.
She had creamy white skin and twinkly brown eyes and wore cherry-red lipstick.
“Ted and Jeanie Jankowski, meet Dot. She’s new to town.”
“Dot, what a pleasure.” Ted used both of his warm hands to shake Dot’s. And Jeanie opened her arms and pulled her into a strong, grandma-type embrace.
“I’m a hugger—can’t help it,” she said in a British accent. Dot squeezed back—it felt good.
“Grace says you’re working on the election for the Democrats. Ted will love hearing about that.” She leaned in and whispered, “He’s one of yours.”
“And she’s a Republican, so I give her a hard time,” he said, winking at his wife and putting his arm around her waist. “You must know Rose. Great gal. Went to high school with my older brother.”
Dot gushed about Rose and explained her connection through For the Win and the bus trip.
She handed Ted a flyer.
“Well, this looks interesting. Heck, I’d like to go. How about you, Jeanie?”
“Pass! I don’t want to get in trouble for muttering under my breath every time they drive me up the wall,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs. Dot picked up on their ease with each other.
“Wonderful! I’ll put you on the list, Mr. Jankowski.” Dot took the business card he offered her. “That’s a tradition we should bring back,” she thought. “To heck with QR codes.”
“Call me Ted, please. And give me some of those flyers,” Ted said. “I’ll take them to my men’s group. We’re meeting in a little bit at the Kozy Kitchen for our weekly get-together. I bet Fred would want to go.”
“You’re all so kind. I should have come in sooner,” Dot said. “I love to read, and your store is wonderful. Feels like it has some history.”
“Oh yes. We’ve been here since the seventies—that’s like ancient history to a young woman like yourself.” Jeanie looked around the store. “It’s holding together okay, but we’re getting up there.”
“And it’s tough to compete in the book trade nowadays,” Ted said. “Sometimes it feels like we’re more of a community center than a business. And we love that, don’t get me wrong. I think every community needs a bookstore to keep strong.”
“My grandmother always said the same,” Dot said. “Even in New York.”
“You two don’t need to worry about the store,” Grace said, reassuring them. “Something will work out.”
The bell rang and in walked a man of about thirty years old, six foot two and very solidly built. He had black hair and a red flush on his cheeks. He wore sunglasses on top of his head, a Carhartt coat, jeans, and workmen’s boots.
“Danny Dawson, as I live and breathe!” Jeanie opened her arms to hug him. He let her do her thing, then he kissed Grace on the cheek, and shook Ted’s hand. “Danny, this is Dot. She’s new to town.”
“Hi, Dot.” He shook her hand gently. His hand was large and rough from working outdoors. So different from the guys she knew back home.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, immediately reluctant to let go of his warm hand.
“And you.” He had sad but beautiful dark brown eyes. A spark ran up her spine when he smiled at her. He let go of her hand and gestured around the store.
“Jeanie, can you help me find a book for Lacey? She loves poetry but I don’t have a clue.”
Poetry? So, he was taken, Dot supposed. She couldn’t help a pang of disappointment. Then felt silly for feeling disappointed.
“I have a couple titles that might work. Let me show you.”
Jeanie led Danny to a section in the back of the store. Dot talked with Ted and Grace for a few more minutes. Then Danny checked out at the register and said goodbye to everyone, ringing the bell as he walked out the door.
Jeanie came back over to the new releases table. “I love that boy.”
“Me too,” Grace said.
“His wife’s lucky to have such a romantic husband,” Dot said.
“Danny? No, no. He’s not married. The book is for the nurse who took care of his mom when he was in college. She died of breast cancer his junior year,” Jeanie said.
“Oh. I’m so sorry to hear that. No wonder he looked so sad.” Dot felt bad for jumping to conclusions. But noted that he was unattached.
“Unfortunately, he carries around a lot of grief,” Ted said. “After playing college football over in Madison, he got engaged to his longtime girlfriend, Sadie Tibbets. She was a pistol, that one. Loved him like crazy. Went to all his games.”
Dot noticed the use of past tense regarding Sadie. “What happened to her?”
“Oh, it was terrible,” Jeanie said. “To make a long story short, she was killed by a drunk driver just about two years ago now.”
“That’s absolutely terrible,” Dot said, wincing at the thought.
They all looked out the window, watching Danny get into his truck.
“Did the driver . . . ?” Dot started to ask about his fate but Grace interrupted her.
“Nope. Not even a scratch,” Grace said.
“But he’s serving a double life sentence,” Ted added.
“Was there someone else in the car?”
“Well . . . yes. Danny and Sadie’s unborn baby girl. She was eight months pregnant,” Grace said.
Dot gasped.
“They were engaged when she found out she was pregnant,” Jeanie explained. “They postponed the wedding until she was due. They wanted their daughter to be at their wedding.”
“He always wanted to get married and have a family.” Ted added, “He wanted to be a father. Never knew his own.”
Grace began straightening the books on the table. “He’s like a son to me. Been friends with my three boys since they were kids.”
“Well, he’s certainly fortunate to have you,” Dot said, and with that sad and sober end to their friendly chat, she thought she better get going. She threw her backpack back on her shoulder.
“Could I buy these before I go?” She added the latest from Patti Callahan Henry and handed it to Jeanie.
“Oh, yes. I love her books. Did you read the last one? It was so good.” They talked about books for a few more minutes. They had similar tastes in fiction.
Finally, needing to get back to work, Dot made a move toward the door.
“Ted, I’ll see you on the bus!” Dot said, the bell ringing as she stepped outside.
“And don’t be a stranger!” Jeanie called to her.
“Oh, I’ll be back with my girlfriends. They’ll love this place. Thanks again!”
As she went out the door and turned right to head back to the office, she didn’t bother putting in her AirPods.
Instead, she thought about the new people she’d just met, and of Danny Dawson and what he’d been through.
She guessed that you never really knew what people were dealing with on the inside.
Something her doorman Albert had told her back in New York came to mind. “Everyone is always going through something.”
Wasn’t that the truth.