This Book Made Me Think of You(79)
When Tilly arrives home, she spreads all of the books she has received so far on the coffee table, including her November book, still wrapped in brown paper. She refused to leave the shop with December’s, insisting she’d be back next month to collect it.
She runs her hand over the covers of them all, thinking about how each book has helped her, whether inspiring her, consoling her, or simply making her laugh. She takes photos of them all and then gathers the pile into her lap and turns her phone camera to face her. Before she can allow herself time to overthink what she is going to say, she hits record.
“Hi there,” she says, giving a nervous little wave. “I’ll be honest, I’m more of a lurker on social media normally. You’ll see I haven’t posted anything in a long time. But I wanted to hop on here to share something important with all you…one hundred followers. Some of you might know this, but some of you might not: My husband Joe died last year. It’s been a really awful time, which any of you who have lost someone close to you will know. But what I want to talk to you about isn’t how horrible it has been but about something magical that happened six months after he died. You see, I received a mysterious phone call from my local bookshop, Book Lane.”
She thinks back to hearing Alfie’s gruff voice on the phone for the first time, how confused and disorientated she’d felt to hear Joe’s name from the mouth of a stranger.
“It turns out that my local bookshop helped my husband to organize a special gift for me before he died. A year of books. One book a month, each book with a personal significance and a special meaning. These are those books.” She holds up the stack of colorful spines. “Or at least, most of them. The year isn’t over yet. But so far, the books have taught me new things, sent me off on adventures I never anticipated, and have held my hand through the toughest time in my life. I am certain that it would have brought Joe comfort to know that after he was gone I wouldn’t be on my own, that I’d have these books for company.”
Her voice falters, and for a moment she isn’t sure she can keep going. But she catches hold of herself, smiles softly, and says, “But it hasn’t just been the books that have been there for me. My local bookshop has become a…a safe harbor.”
Because despite the tension between her and Alfie, when he told her that the shop was at risk of closure, it felt like the ground shifted beneath her feet. She couldn’t imagine not coming into the shop every month. Not seeing Prudence, Blue, and Georgette, not seeing the seasons change through the altered window displays, not finding herself again and again among the shelves of books. Not seeing Alfie. She realized she’d been taking for granted the fact that Book Lane would always be there when she needed it.
“Sadly, my local bookshop is under threat of closure. It would mean a lot if you could check out their crowd funder. If you are local, pop in to browse, or if you’re further afield, consider ordering online. Bookshops aren’t just bookshops. They’re places for book lovers to come together, like-minded souls meeting among the stacks. They’re hubs of the community and the arena for heated conversations about the latest must-read series. They’re safe places to step in out of the rain, no matter who you are. And they need our support, now more than ever.”
She stops the recording, her hands shaking as she posts it to social media, tagging the Book Lane account.
A few moments later, she receives a message from Alfie.
THANK YOU
Forty-Nine
Tilly tightens the laces on her brand-new baby-pink roller skates. On the park bench beside her, Harper does the same with her matching pair in baby blue. Rachel bounces on the spot beside them, wrapping her coat tightly around herself.
“You two are bloody mad.”
“I still think you should have bought a pair too. Absolutely no solidarity…” teases Tilly as she adjusts the straps on her kneepads and wrist braces.
“I jumped naked into the icy Atlantic for you, but this is a step too far,” shoots back Rachel, shaking her head, her breath coming out as misty clouds in the cold morning air. “You two are on your own.”
“Will you film us?” Tilly asks, handing her phone over.
“Sure. Shall I stop if you break an arm?”
“Ha ha…Can you film a little intro first?”
With one hand Tilly pushes herself up from the bench. It takes a moment to find her balance, but when she’s steady, she nods at Rachel, who begins to film.
“So, a book made me do this,” Tilly says into her phone camera. She reaches for her copy of Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert on the bench and holds its colorful cover up to the camera. “I’m reading this book all about creativity or, as the author calls it, ‘big magic.’ I thought it would all be about making ceramic pots and writing books and things. And there’s definitely some of that in there. But the book is really about living creatively, which is about more than just writing and painting. It means doing things you enjoy just for the sake of them. It means not letting fear hold you back from things that you’ve always thought might be fun. Well, I’ve always wanted to learn how to roller-skate. And I’m done with feeling afraid.”
As she looks at the camera, she thinks back to Joe’s letter, tucked safely within the pages of the book.
Dear Tilly,
We’re coming toward the end of our year of books. I hope you’ve got as much enjoyment out of reading these books as I have in thinking about you reading them.