Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
TYLER
Tyler was helping Mr. Alders, one of the local retirees, look for a gardening book in the back corner of the bookstore where the nonfiction section was nestled.
The older gentleman kept eying the pumpkin pie book nook, and Tyler wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted a slice of pie, or if he found the entire setup distasteful.
It could be hard to tell with Mr. Alders.
His grandson, Cole, was much easier to read.
Tyler was about to ask him when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Tyler acted nonchalantly, pulling it out to dismiss the message, until he saw it was Robyn.
He quickly read the message, his eyes lighting up at the news.
“What did I just say?” Mr. Alders snapped, squinting at him over his glasses. “I’m trying to see if you have anything on mulches, and you’re over there playing with your phone.”
Tyler tucked the phone away immediately. “You’re right, sir. Sorry. Important message.”
“Hmph.” Mr. Alders jabbed a finger toward the gardening shelves. “Mulches. I need something practical, not one of those books that tells you to talk to your plants.”
Tyler bit back a laugh. “No plant pep talks. Got it.”
He scanned the spines, pulling out a couple titles for the older man to browse. Mr. Alders took them, flipped through the pages, and made a face like each one was more disappointing than the last.
“What was this important message of yours about anyway?” he asked.
“Have you heard about the Maple Falls Book Club?”
Mr. Alders looked up, suspicious. “What’s this now about a book club?”
Tyler gave him the short version: newly founded club, town-wide scavenger hunt, Isabel’s manuscript turning Maple Falls upside down.
“And,” Tyler added, unable to stop the pride in his voice, “Robyn and Emily just found the last installment.”
Mr. Alders stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s what you called important?”
Tyler grinned. “To the people looking for it, yeah.”
“Important is finding the right mulch before frost kills my vegetables,” Mr. Alders said, and went right back to his book.
Tyler chuckled under his breath. At least he’d tried.
He found Mr. Alders a no-nonsense guide that promised better soil, fewer weeds, and absolutely no emotional bonding with begonias. Mr. Alders approved—barely—then shuffled up to the register.
After Tyler rang him up and wished him a good afternoon, he pulled out his phone again—ready to text Robyn back, Are you serious? His thumbs hovered over the screen.
Then the bell above the bookstore door chimed.
Tyler’s head lifted automatically, his heart making him act like a hopeful fool, like maybe it would be Robyn walking back in with that flushed, triumphant look she got when she’d solved something.
He already had a smile forming.
But it fell away the instant he saw who it was: Estevez Rodriguez, the potential buyer.
He looked too polished for Maple Falls. Black dress pants. Crisp button-down. A long wool coat that belonged in a city, no flannel in sight.
He didn’t greet Tyler. He didn’t even look at him.
He pulled a measuring tape from his pocket and started measuring the door frame.
Tyler crossed the room, unease tightening in his chest. “Can I help you with something?”
The man glanced at him briefly, then extended the measuring tape without ceremony. “Yeah. Hold this.”
He pointed to the corner of the doorway while he measured the width with a satisfied little hum.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, mostly to himself. “The freezers can slide right through here.”
Tyler blinked. “Freezers?”
“For the frozen food section,” the man said as if Tyler was slow for not keeping up. “This is going to be Maple Falls’s finest organic grocer. You won’t find better produce or organic options anywhere else but here. Give me two months. Six weeks, even, and you won’t recognize this place.”
Tyler’s stomach dropped so hard it felt like he’d missed a step going down the stairs.
He forced his face to stay neutral and his voice to remain calm, even though inside, his body was growing numb.
Because the little world Tyler had been building in his head—the one where the bookstore stayed the bookstore, where Robyn stayed in Maple Falls, where all of this mattered—suddenly tilted.
And he knew without a doubt, Robyn would be just as devastated.
Tyler watched him tuck the measuring tape into his pocket and sweep his gaze over the space like he was already rearranging it in his mind. The shelves. The counter. The pumpkin pie book nook. Emma’s favorite corner chair.
Then, without another word, the man headed back out, the bell above the door chiming cheerfully behind him like it hadn’t just destroyed Tyler’s world.
Robyn had so much joy on her face when she walked into the bookstore five minutes later, there was no way Tyler could tell her what had just happened.
“As expected,” Robyn said, coming forward with the bundled package from the stove, “the book club wants to meet tonight. I’m good with that if you are. Maybe you could just bring Emma?”
“No need. Remember, she has that birthday party tonight.”
“You’re right—how could I forget? Dinner. You and me… Sorry, my head is just all over the place right now. Are you good with doing dinner after the club meeting?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
“Perfect.” Robyn was beaming, absolutely smiling from ear to ear. It was infectious. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that we found this. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna have to write it or something, and we all know how well that’s been going for me lately.”
Tyler chuckled to himself because he had an idea to help Robyn overcome her writer’s block. It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d find in a self-help book about the creative process. But if he knew Robyn, it might be exactly what she needed.
He just had to get her to say yes first.