“The railroad car behind the bookshop. Anytime.”
Bren stared straight ahead, so Nora walked away.
As she returned to the festival, she thought about how the right book at the right time could change a reader’s life. It could instill hope. Inspire courage. Elicit laughter. If anyone needed the companionship of books, it was Bren.
Nora didn’t head back to the picnic area. She simply moved with the crowd like a fish caught in a strong current, her mind totally focused on book titles.
“Jane Eyre, Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine, Amber Smith’s The Way I Used to Be, Little Fires Everywhere,” she murmured.
She could leave the books on Bren’s doorstep. Maybe, just maybe, Bren would read one. Or all.
Someone grabbed Nora’s arm. “Were you just going to leave without telling anyone?”
Blinking, Nora came out of her trance.
“Are you okay?” Sheldon asked. “What happened with Wednesday Addams?”
“You were right. We need to hear her story. But we need to give her something first. Or I do. I need to give her some books. The right books.”
Taking Nora’s arm, Sheldon led her back to their friends.
Hester presented Nora with a baked apple. “This is from Estella. She and Jack decided to call it an early night.” She pointed across the park. “Bren left right after you did.”
Nora dug her spoon into the center of the apple, loading it with warm, sweet, cinnamon goodness. Then, she lowered the spoon. She wasn’t in the mood for a treat. Instead, she told her friends about her brief exchange with Bren.
“We’ll just have to keep trying until we get through to her,” said June.
Sheldon stroked his chin. “I have an idea. Why don’t you invite Bren for a midnight stroll? Maybe the cats will fall in love with her and leave us alone.”
“Oh, please. You’re crazy about those damned cats,” June scoffed. “I see you sneaking food to them when you think I’m not looking.”
Sheldon turned to Nora and whispered, “If you’re not going to eat that apple, can I take it home?”
June rolled her eyes. “You need to take yourself home. I should have cut you off after your second beer.”
“I’ll switch to water,” Sheldon promised. “I’m not ready to go home.”
None of them were. They sat at their picnic table and talked, listened to music, and did some people watching until their yawns became too contagious to ignore.
“The old farts are leaving,” June said, tugging Sheldon to his feet.
Sheldon looked like he was about to argue, but another yawn made that impossible.
After saying good night to the housemates, Nora and Hester decided to head home too. Together, they walked toward the bookshop.
“I parked in the lot behind your shop so I could look at your window again,” said Hester. “The night we finished working on it, I went home and wrote down a whole list of new flavor combos—things I’ve never dared to work with before but want to try. Hot peppers and wasabi. Black truffle salt and sumac. That window inspired me. It made me want to be bold.”
Too moved to speak, Nora squeezed Hester’s hand, and the two friends walked on in companionable silence.
Leaves drifted across the sidewalk and a harvest moon illuminated the quiet street. There was an edge to the night air, and Nora couldn’t wait to put on her pajamas and curl up on the sofa with a blanket and a book.
To her immense relief, all was well at Miracle Books. There were no devils in any form, so after gazing at the window for a few minutes, she and Hester headed to the parking lot.
“Jasper will swing by again before his shift ends,” Hester said as she got into her car. “Thanks for a great date.”
Nora watched her friend drive away before turning toward home.
Suddenly, the space above her pinkie knuckle began to tingle. Nora covered it with her other hand, hoping to stop the sensation but knowing that she’d fail. She didn’t want to feel phantom pins and needles in flesh that wasn’t there. Not only did it make her feel seasick, but she knew from experience that the tingle was an omen. And it was never a good one.
Nora took out her phone, and her thumb hovered over the emergency button. She moved slowly, glancing around as she climbed the metal stairs to her deck.
The bright moon cast a spotlight on her front door, and Nora saw a piece of paper poking out from under her welcome mat. Her uneasiness doubled as she bent down and yanked the paper free.
If it had been something she recognized—a book page, a newspaper clipping, a computer printout—Nora would have carried it inside her house. But it was unlike anything she’d ever seen before and she couldn’t stop looking at it.