Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Ella
“An amalgamation of horror, sci-fi, and social commentary, You Weren’t Meant to Be Human by Andrew Joseph White stuck with me for days.”
—Rich’s Staff Pick
This morning had left me with an inch of my life.
I spent it running around, trying to fix every issue we couldn’t anticipate.
Because of the New York summer, the iPad outside overheated so we couldn’t check people in or allow them to buy tickets for a little while.
Eventually, we had to print out the guest list and get whoever was manning the booth to run inside and run the sale.
I won’t even talk about Joey and Stewart.
Julie, thankfully, had the events completely under control. It was probably the only thing in the store running smoothly.
In my entire time working here, we hadn’t completely run out of a popular book in one day.
Usually, we had some left in storage that we could bring out.
But there were no more copies of Every Tom, Dick & Harry or Fourth Wing.
We ended up letting people pay for it now with the discount, promising we’d put a copy on hold when we restocked.
On top of everything with the store, the future with Henry was weighing heavily on my heart. Nothing had changed, even though I desperately wanted it to. His plans were exactly the same.
He’d own the store and run it from afar.
He’d go back to Tennessee. And I’d stay here as the day-to-day operations manager.
And that was it. We said we’d reevaluate after the fair was said and done, but despite everything changing between us, nothing around us did.
Maybe we’d email back and forth and he’d text me about whatever book he was reading.
But it wouldn’t be the same as holding him late at night or spotting him from across the store. I couldn’t stomach the thought.
I hadn’t taken a lunch break, much to Henry’s dismay. He was blocking the entrance to behind the registers with his hands behind his back.
“Ella,” he had said when I refused to take my break. “I think you should reap the rewards of today. Your hard work is paying off. You should enjoy it, not stress out.”
“You should mind your own business,” I had snapped.
Henry’s eyebrows flew to his hairline with an amused smile.
“Someone’s hangry. Well, lucky for you I’ve got the cure.
” He pulled his hands from behind his back, holding out a sandwich wrapped in tinfoil.
“Might not be as good, but I made you an extra grilled cheese last night. Well, I guess it’s kind of just a cheese sandwich now, but—”
I interrupted him, peeling the tinfoil open, and gasped, “No way, really?”
He nodded and said, “I can cook you so many dishes, I don’t know why you only want grilled cheese, but I won’t question it. Eat up, then you can jump on, honey.”
I stood at the side of the registers, stuffing the sandwich in my mouth.
Henry’s grilled cheese, truthfully, tasted like the ones my dad used to make for me.
On Fridays, he’d get off work early and it’d just be me and him until my mom came home.
He’d make one and we’d sit on the couch and watch some old telenovela.
A lot of Henry reminded me of what it was like to be home.
Once I was finished, I logged on to the register next to Henry. He sent me a sly smile.
“Feeling less hangry?”
“I wasn’t hangry.”
“You’re right, you were worse. You were demonic and hungry—what do you call that?”
“Gloating is unbecoming,” I said with my chin lifted.
“So are emotional breakdowns.”
As the day went on, I started to press Henry for more information on how close we were to the goal. But he insisted he had no idea, even when I turned to him with puppy dog eyes.
“Just say you hate me, it’ll be faster,” I snapped.
“You’re so dramatic,” he teased. “Ella, I don’t have a special tally on my computer that tells me when we reach our goal.”
“Yeah, but you’ve got that freaky mind that does all that math. You must have an idea.”
Before he could answer, Henry’s phone started buzzing. It was sitting between the computer monitor and on top of the till. He quickly silenced it, not bothering to look at it. But it started buzzing again.
“Henry, it might be your mom, you should take that.”
“It’s not, it’s fine.”
I tried to ignore it, but his phone buzzed consistently for the next ten minutes.
Sometimes with a call and sometimes with a text.
When he was with another customer, I couldn’t take it anymore.
My mind was conjuring the worst and I knew Henry would regret it if his mom needed him and he didn’t answer.
I snatched his phone up, sick with worry, but instead, it was Charlie blowing up his phone with calls and texts.
I didn’t have a chance to read the texts before Charlie called again.
I turned my back to Henry and quietly said, “Hello?”
“Fucking finally. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day, asshole,” Charlie said. His voice didn’t sound like anything was wrong, though.
“It’s Ella,” I said. “Henry’s ignoring his phone for some reason. Is everything okay?”
Charlie scoffed. “Of course he’s avoiding his phone. I shoulda known. Everything’s fine. He’s not answering anyone’s calls and we’re all just tryna say happy birthday real quick.”
I stilled, my stomach bottoming out. “It’s his birthday?”
Charlie paused. “Oh shit. I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
“What? Why not?” I asked, incredulous.
“Henry hates making a big deal out of his birthday, it’s so annoying,” Charlie said. “But I was specifically not supposed to tell you.”
“Me?” I asked, confused. I would’ve thought I’d be the one person Henry told.
“He said you’d try to plan something for him and you’ve got too much going on.” Charlie’s voice lowered. “Don’t rat me out, Ella. This could be the end of our friendship.”
I laughed, rolling my eyes. “I won’t. Honestly, we should have some extra room in the fair budget. Maybe I can get a cake and some candles.” I paused when Charlie scoffed at that. “Why’d you scoff?” I asked. “He doesn’t like cake?”
“Oh. Um. Yes, he likes cake,” Charlie said, near robotically.
“Charlie, this could be the end of our friendship,” I repeated. “Tell me.”
“Ella, I can’t—”
“Tell me,” I snapped.
“Wow, Henry was right, you do get whatever you want.” Charlie let out a heavy sigh. “Y’all are way over budget. It’s been going on his card for the past couple of weeks.”
I frowned. “There’s no way. Henry created the budget. We’ve been frugal in most …”
I trailed off as I took in the store’s decorations. The ribbons, balloons, and booths. The Last Page was barely recognizable. How naive was I to think we were still under budget? The store was extravagantly decorated. There was no way we could’ve done this on the budget.
“I hadn’t realized,” I said softly.
“Listen, since I’m revealing all of Henry’s secrets, I might as well do another,” Charlie said quietly. “He wants to stay. He doesn’t know if he’d be lonely up there or not, but he wants to.”
“He told you this?” Hope dangerously rippled through me. My heart thumped against my chest as images of us in the city flashed in my mind.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Charlie countered.
“But why would he be lonely here? He has me,” I said, confused.
Charlie clicked his tongue. “I don’t think he knows that.”
“Ella, what the hell?” Henry said from behind me. I turned around and he was looking between his phone and me. I shushed him and gestured to his phone.
“I’m on the phone,” I said with a “duh” look.
“You’re on my phone. Give it here.” He held out his hand and just as I was about to continue speaking, he snatched it from me.
“Bye, Charlie,” I called out as Henry pressed it to his ear. Another customer came through and I took them to my register, trying my best to eavesdrop.
“Dude,” Henry said, his voice low. “Not cool … No, I don’t need a birthday cake. Charlie, you eat almost all of it every year … Uh-huh. Yeah, I know … Alright, thank you thank you. I’ll call later tonight.”
Henry stepped back up to his register, shooting me a wry look as he slipped his phone in his pocket.
“Am I allowed to—”
“Nope,” he said.
“Henry,” I whined. “C’mon. I had no idea! You should’ve told me, I would’ve made a binder.”
“It was a secret,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not a birthday person.”
“Why not?” I asked. I smiled at the customers who came up to my register, scanning their multitude of books and totes. “Everyone is, but some people just say they aren’t because they’ve never had a special birthday.”
Henry shot me a flat look.
“Oh,” I said.
When the customers walked away, Henry turned to me.
“It’s not some big sad story. I told you.
I’ve got my tight-knit circle of people back home.
And I don’t mind having two people around a birthday cake with me, but others do.
They find it sad or depressing which in turn makes me self-conscious.
So I stopped making a big deal out of birthdays. ”
“I don’t think that’s sad,” I said. “You only let people you want into your space. You’re with the ones you truly love. I think that’s beautiful.”
“Yeah?” he asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
“Really.” I hesitated, then said, “And just so you know, I wouldn’t let you be lonely here,” I said, my voice low. “If you stayed.”
“It’s more than that,” Henry said, shaking his head. “I’ve got a life there, too.”
I nodded in understanding. I knew I should’ve been focused on the store and hoping we made enough sales, but I couldn’t stop racking my brain on ways I could make Henry want to stay.
Lots of media outlets had requested interviews with Henry and I after The New Yorker article was published.
There was only one event left for tonight, a panel featuring indie authors, so in the interim, Julie set up the event space for a media junket.
Henry and I decided to divide and conquer so we could speak to as many as possible.
“Do you think the store will close?” I was sitting down with a journalist from the New York Post and they kept asking blunt questions. Not two minutes ago they asked if Leo’s death left me sad.
“No,” I said flatly. “I believe that New Yorkers are responding to our goal and want the store to stick around as much as we do.”
“Why should we trust you all now?” he pressed. “Who’s to say the store won’t be stuck in debt again in five years?”
“That’s true with any New York business,” I said, my tone perhaps a little snappier than it should be.
“Do you think we want to be in this position? Everyone who works here loves The Last Page. When we reach our goal, we will do everything in our power to make sure that The Last Page stays here for generations. Thanks for your time.”
Henry was on the other side of the room, taking the interviewers as they came. There was a line of reporters and journalists churning in and out of the chairs in front of us. After this asshole, I was ready to call it quits, but then someone else appeared in front of me.
“Hello, my name is Amelia. It’s very nice to meet you.” Amelia held her hand out to me and I took it in mine, shaking it. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old. “Thank you for taking the time.”
I smiled. “No problem at all, Amelia. Can I ask what news outlet you work for?”
“I’m with the PS 41 Greenwich Village School Journalism club,” she said matter-of-factly. Her red hair was woven into a braid, falling on her shoulder. “Do you mind if I record this?” She held up her phone.
“By all means,” I said. “What have you got for me?”
“Well, I wanted to say that I particularly enjoy this concept. I love when the Scholastic Book Fair comes to my school.”
I smiled, pleased. “I’m glad. We were hoping to capture that energy.”
“Oh, it’s even better. Is that where the idea came from?”
I nodded. “I think so many kids learn to love reading or get excited about books because of the book fair. And adults can feel the same way about bookstores, but we really wanted to bring it together.”
“Totally. I’ve come to The Last Page for years now. I was still here when Leo did storytime.”
I softened. “So you’ve met him?”
“No one reads Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? like him. One of my childhood favorites,” she said seriously. I nodded along and she continued. “Anyway, can you tell me why The Last Page is named The Last Page?”
I smiled. “Sure. Leo used to say he hated when he got to the last page of a book. He knew the book would be over and in some cases, you really wanted the book to keep going. So he wanted to change his mindset and make The Last Page a place you were excited to go. Literally and metaphorically. Because now when you got to The Last Page, you could be excited to start the next page.”
Amelia smiled, “I love that. Are you and Leo family? I read an interview to prepare for this one where he said he wanted it to be a family business.”
I shook my head. I turned in my chair to point Henry out to her.
“No, Henry on the other side of this room is his grandson. But … I was Leo’s family in a different way.
Maybe not by blood, but I knew all his favorite things and his habits.
He’d frustrate me just like any father or grandfather would, but I admired him just like any granddaughter or daughter would.
Even when Henry goes back to Tennessee and I run the store, it’ll still be a family business. ”
Amelia smiled at that. She stood and shook my hand, thanking me for my time.
I stood from the line, suddenly needing space.
Even if the words I said were true, I didn’t want it all to play out that way.
Six months ago, I would’ve never said this, but I’d give Henry the store just to make him stay.
Henry was the closest thing I’d ever get to Leo again, but he was also the closest thing the customers would get, too.
In just a few months, he’d come to mean more to me than I’d ever expected.
I just had to make him realize that even if we saved it, The Last Page wouldn’t be the same without him.