Chapter 12
Aurelia woke to the sounds of birds calling through the square and a loud lorry passing the shop.
In her half-asleep state, her eyebrows drew together as she pondered this—lorries passed the front of the building, never her bedroom at the back.
She opened one eye, then the second quickly followed as she sat bolt upright.
She’d been asleep in the shop, tucked up on the window seat on the mezzanine.
Checking her watch, she saw that it was nearly ten o’clock.
She continued to stare at her watch, trying to process this information—nearly ten, nearly ten…
“Oh, damn!”
It was almost time to open the shop and Aurelia was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, her hair matted from sleep.
She jumped up from the window seat and started heading toward the flat before memories of the night before came rushing back.
Walking to the railing of the mezzanine, she looked down to where she’d talked with Marmee and the others.
Had it really happened? Could it happen again?
A loud meow from the flat brought her back to the present. She opened the door and Fezz burst through, sounding another meow of annoyance.
“Yes, I realize breakfast is late. Up you get.” She started up the stairs and Fezz dashed past her.
Driven by habit, Aurelia fed the cat and took a quick shower.
It wasn’t until she was running her fingers through her wet hair as she stood before the bathroom mirror that she finally took a moment to think back on all that had happened.
She paused, staring at her reflection. Something strange and wonderful was happening to her.
If it was a dream, it wasn’t a bad one—in fact, it was one she’d often wished she could experience.
If it was a hallucination, what could she do about it?
See a psychiatrist and hope the characters would disappear?
But she didn’t want them to disappear, not anymore.
Not now that she knew they were characters from books and not restless spirits or random strangers coming into the shop uninvited.
Maybe her mind had instructed the characters to tell her about Aunt Marigold and her ancestors to reassure her, but somehow, the pieces fit together to suggest there was something real there.
The table, Marigold’s system for setting out books with characters that would get along—wasn’t it just possible that it was all true?
Aurelia wanted to call her sister to tell her what she’d discovered, but even with her growing certainty that it was real, she couldn’t imagine how to share the news with Antonia—or anyone, for that matter.
Who would believe her without experiencing it for themselves?
She’d have to get Antonia to come for a visit to show her—but would her sister be able to see the characters too?
Sergeant Cuff had mentioned meeting Aurelia’s aunts, but they’d all owned the shop at various times—maybe shop owners were the only ones who could talk to characters?
She was sure he’d know the answer and the idea of talking to him, to all of them, again brought a smile to her face even as she rushed to finish getting ready for the day.
Soon, Aurelia was hurrying downstairs with two slices of toast. She made a cup of coffee in the back room—tea wasn’t going to cut it after the night she’d had—then unlocked the shop door and raised the wooden blinds on the front windows.
Sitting at her desk with her coffee and breakfast, Aurelia’s mind once again worked through the previous night’s events.
She had spent the night talking with characters that had only ever lived in her head.
She had stood just there when she met Marmee, Laurie, and the rest.
She had met Count Vronsky!
Each time Aurelia came up with a new question about the characters she’d met, the same persistent one ran through her mind: had any of it really happened?
Every time she convinced herself that she hadn’t been dreaming—that Marigold had experienced it too—she convinced herself right back to believing that it couldn’t have been real.
A series of customers shifted her focus and kept her busy through lunchtime, but as she spoke with each of them she tested herself, wanting to be sure she seemed as rational as she felt.
Their conversations seemed perfectly normal, though.
She decided to test herself outside the shop too, so she closed up to walk a few streets over to her favorite café for a late lunch.
Everything was just the same—no one gave her funny looks and the world seemed no different than yesterday.
Once she was back, she pulled out a stack of paper from a desk drawer and began writing out her questions so she could organize her thoughts.
Aside from the obvious relating to dream versus reality, there was the question of why she’d met those particular characters.
Marmee said she’d been to the shop with Jo, but why was Laurie in the shop this time?
Aurelia also remembered that only two characters from each book on the table had appeared in the shop, with the exception of Vronsky.
Why hadn’t he appeared with another character from his novel?
With each new question, Aurelia grew more excited for the night ahead, but also worried that the characters might not appear again.
What if last night had been her first and only opportunity to meet characters from her favorite books?
All those nights of hearing voices and being scared—had she wasted the few chances she would get to be with them?
Between her racing thoughts about last night and customers coming in and out of the shop that afternoon, Aurelia was caught off guard when the phone rang and it was David.
She had no doubt he was calling to check on how her date with Oliver had gone, but in all the excitement of last night she’d nearly forgotten him.
Well, not entirely—the mysterious kiss was memorable, but not quite enough to displace her thoughts about what she’d come home to discover.
Aurelia tried letting David down gently, but he didn’t believe her when she said it hadn’t gone well; he kept asking her to try again and to let him and James arrange another meeting.
“No and no,” Aurelia insisted. “The only thing we connected over was what a schemer you are. We barely learned anything about each other.”
“What’s there to know? You’re both good people and I think you’d like each other.”
“He doesn’t even know I’m a writer—he only knows about the shop.”
But maybe that’s all there is to know about me, she thought, tuning David out for a moment as she considered that new truth.
She hadn’t written anything in ages—maybe she never would.
Maybe running the shop was all she’d do now, and maybe that was alright.
After what she’d learned about the shop’s after-hours happenings, that ought to be enough.
But even the excitement over her discovery didn’t seem like it could replace what she felt when she was working on a new story.
What she used to feel. What she hoped she might feel again.
Aurelia tuned back into David as he said, “That’s why you need to go on at least one more date with him.”
She wanted to ask him to repeat himself and tell her why, but now more than ever—when she’d gone from thinking the shop was haunted to discovering it hosted fictional characters—seemed like the wrong time to give in to David’s plotting.
“No, David, I’m sorry,” she said, putting on her best attempt at a firm tone. “It’s just not meant to be.”