I nod. “I appreciate your idea, but the blood and loss of a leg might be a bit much for some customers. We try to keep our displays PG.”
“Yeah, they don’t want to scare people away, Brody,” Graham adds.
Brody pouts. “I love gore. If I had a bookstore, it would be a horror one.”
One of the staffs suggests summer hobbies like gardening. Another suggests a camping scene with a tent and a fake fire. None of them seem to take hold.
My shoulders slump. “We need to nail this down. Any other ideas?”
“I noticed you had a box of old vinyl records in the basement,” Graham says. “Anything good?”
I shake my head. “Just some items Terry bought when we talked about selling records. What are you thinking?”
“Well, most windows will be doing beachy themes, right? We want to stand out.”
I nod.
“I was flipping through the records, and most of them are from the seventies. You could do a ‘Disco Summer of the Seventies’ or a ‘Fifty-Year Anniversary of Books’ kind of thing. You could get a disco ball; well, actually I have one at my—our—apartment.”
Brody nods enthusiastically. “Dude, yes! Hang the ball, dress the mannequins in seventies outfits—halter tops and bell-bottoms, head scarves, chokers, feather jewelry. I can get in touch with our drama teacher at the school. They’ll have a roomful of costumes.”
We have a few costumes we keep in storage for our mannequins, but not anything from the seventies. “Thanks, Brody. Could you get them today?”
He taps his phone. “Already on it. Might as well consider it done.”
Jasper comes back over. “Graham, you mentioned the records. Maybe we could play music in the window, let it trickle out into the store. We passed an antique store on the way here. They might have one of those old record players to add to the ambiance.”
I smile at him. “That’s a lovely idea. Okay. Let’s come up with a list of books. What books do we associate with the seventies?”
Everyone pops out their phones, and Graham is the first to say, “Judy Blume’s Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.”
“A favorite,” I say as he holds my eyes intently until tingles dance over my skin.
“The Joy of Sex,” Jasper calls out triumphantly. “That’s what I’m talking about, folks! Twelve million copies sold. Boom.”
Jane smirks. “Typical that you’d go to the book about sex. Do you need a little self-help?”
Jasper narrows his gaze. “I don’t, Joanie.”
“It’s Jane.”
“Who cares,” he replies coolly.
“I don’t,” she says.
Jasper narrows his gaze. “The book is about experiencing intimacy and having fun with sex. Maybe you need it.”
“You know nothing about me,” she mutters.
“Okay, enough of you both. Keep going,” I say, rolling my hands.
“Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, All the President’s Men, Roots, The Shining,” Babs says as she balances her phone and Londyn in her lap.
“The Shining!” Brody exclaims. “A creepy caretaker at a hotel in Colorado, ghostly twins, dead guests, and an axe! Oh, I want a window just with that.”
“We have an axe,” Jane murmurs.
“Enough with the axe,” I tell her pointedly.
“It’s a good list of classics. Great idea, Graham,” I say. “You’ll make a great bookstore owner.”
He’s bent over his phone, taking notes, and glances up at me. A long moment passes, or maybe it’s just my imagination, but it feels as if we’re sharing more than just ideas. Nope. We’re just professional. A professional marriage.
“You’re welcome, darling,” he murmurs.
I shake myself out of my reverie and gaze around. “So . . . who’s going to help us get this done tonight?”
Chapter 24
EMMY
Graham steps down from the inside of the window, sweat on his brow as he takes his hat off and rubs his hair. “The ball is up and turning. I’m not an electrician, so we might need to have it checked tomorrow.”
“Good idea. Come on, let’s go look,” I say.
The air is thick with humidity as we dart outside and stand out on the sidewalk. Even though it’s nearly midnight, people have been pausing to stop and watch us work in the window.
I gasp at the full effect. “So perfect,” I murmur.
The iridescent ball sends sparkles over the window, highlighting the couple in a frozen dance beneath it. Brody’s school’s drama department did a parody of the movie Saturday Night Fever, and he managed to snag a John Travolta–style seventies dance outfit for the male mannequin and pink bell-bottomed pants and a crocheted halter top for the woman.