After staring at the blank computer screen for who knows how long, I switch it off and grab my purse.
I don’t care if it’s half an hour too soon; Sally can kiss my ass because I’m out of here. Standing, I right my black, slim line pencil skirt then make my way down the row of cubicles.
“Vera!” Sally’s screech follows me. But I don’t stop until I reach the elevator and press the button. Her heels clipping on the tiles indicate she’s gaining ground. I should be worried, but I’m more amused than anything. The doors open and I step inside, pressing the button for the ground floor.
“Vera.” She stops the doors from closing with her hand.
“Sal.” I stand stoic, my usual mask of boredom plastered on my face.
She frowns, her lips pursing. “That’s not my name, and where do you think you’re going? Those statements were due on my desk twenty minutes ago.”
I press the button again, and the doors attempt to close. She steps back with a huff as I inform her, “They’re done and on my desk. Get them yourself.”
Her wide eyes disappear behind the metal doors. When the doors open, I step out and make my way out to the street where I left my car this morning. Climbing inside, I dump my purse on the passenger seat and drop my head to the steering wheel.
It’s only Monday, barely two days since Jared left me in a pile of confusion and disappointment. I’m not this person. Sure, I’m never rainbows and sunshine, but I’m starting to find it hard to recognize the face of the woman who stares back at me in the mirror each morning.
I have his number, so of course, I could just call him. But that’s not me either. Chasing someone isn’t typically my style. I don’t chase anyone unless they’re holding a mint condition vintage Chanel bag. And even then, I’ll only speed walk. Unless there’s a matching coat to go with it. Then I’ll sprint faster than a runner trying out for the Olympics for the very last time.
Blowing out a breath, I turn on the car and make my way across the city.
After parking, I jump down from my Porsche Cayenne and try not to smile at the familiar sight of the bookstore. Always Booked needs a huge makeover. But then again, it’s kind of perfect the way it is. Its old, shabby charm has a way of making you feel like you’re always welcome. No matter who you are. I learned to appreciate that years ago.
“Badger?” I close the door behind me, the bell tinkling over my head.
“Vera?” His voice sounds from the back room. I walk toward it when he emerges with a sheet of paper and pen in his hand, his wire rimmed glasses falling askew. He lifts them to his head. His hair might be completely gray now, but he’s still got a lot of it, and the glasses stand no chance as they sink right in.
He smiles, and I surprise myself by giving him a small one back. No matter how unsettled I’m feeling, Badger has a way of pulling smiles from me when I least expect it.
He puts the paper down and walks over to me, patting my shoulder and saying, “I’ve got a donation box that just came in. Ripe for the picking. I think I saw some Jane Austen in there.” He nods toward the chairs up the back. “Sit down and I’ll bring it over.” He turns back to the storeroom.
“Stop. You sit down, and I’ll grab it.”
He sighs but doesn’t argue with my firm tone.
I grab the box, eyeing the mess of the storeroom and thinking it might be time to actually help him sort this out, especially if he has no plans to retire soon. Stubborn old man.
Placing it on the floor between the armchairs, I take a seat and start rummaging through it, sorting out the sellable from the junk as I go and placing them in two different piles.
He laughs lightly, picking up an old copy of The Baby-Sitters Club and inspecting it. “It seems I’ve taught you more than I realized over the years.”
“A bit of knowledge and a lot of common sense go a long way,” I grumble.
“Oh, dear.” He puts the book down, the old chair groaning when he reclines and folds his hands over his stomach. “What’s got you in a mood today?”
I twist my lips, settling back in the chair and running my hands over a hardback copy of Persuasion. I already have this edition, but I hold it anyway. “Aren’t I always in a mood?”
He tsks. “Don’t be so hard on yourself all the time. What is it?”
I don’t know what to tell him. But then again, I’ve always been able to talk to Badger without judgment, so maybe this time will be the same. My shoulders droop with my sigh. “I kind of met someone.”
A smile tilts his lips. “Kind of?”
“Yes. Kind of.”
“So no more Dexter, then?”
“No more. For now.”
His bushy gray brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
I stare off toward the front of the store at the old clock ticking away on the wall near the counter. “My father isn’t happy about it. He’s making ultimatums.”
Badger’s quiet for a minute. I glance back over at him, finding him staring down at the piles of books on the coffee table.
“I see,” he finally murmurs. “But you’ve met someone else anyway?”
Sniffing, I fidget with the book in my lap. “Yeah, I have.”
“Well,” he says. “Come on, tell me about it.”
A laugh escapes me. “Why?”
He rolls his eyes, and I laugh some more. He’s an odd one, old Badger. “Why?” He huffs. “Because my life is these four walls and the pages of a good book. You’re living. I want to know about it.”
That last part makes me pause. “I’m living?”
He nods. “Yes. And it’s about damn time. Only taken you what? Twenty-four years?”
Shaking my head, I lean forward to put the book down on the table. How ridiculous. “I’ve lived.”
He hums. “Yes? So you know what it is to laugh so much you think you might pass out?” My thoughts flick back to Jared and the weekend. “Do you know what it is to see the sun rise and fall, and not only admire it but also appreciate it?”
I blink slowly, and again, he continues. “And most importantly, do you know what it is to fall in love?”
He knows I don’t. The frozen expression on my face says it all even if he didn’t already know. “So tell me, my dear Vera. I want to hear about this man of yours or woman …”
A snort escapes at that. “It’s a man.”
He shrugs. “Never know. Whatever makes you happy, I say. Anyway, hit me with it.”
He starts twiddling his thumbs, so I take a deep breath and begin with, “I met him on the side of the highway after Dexter took me to see that house a few weeks ago.”
His brows rise and so do the corners of his lips. He nods for me to continue.
I stare down at my skirt, picking an imaginary piece of lint from it. “I freaked out. I can’t even explain it.” My head shakes. “I told Dexter to pull over; I don’t know why. I just couldn’t breathe all of a sudden and needed to get out. But when he finally did, I didn’t expect him to take off and leave me there. I don’t know what I expected. It was a dumb thing to do. But it seemed vital I do it, which I know doesn’t make sense.”
I pause, and Badger interjects quietly, “Sometimes the things that make no sense can lead us to our greatest discoveries.”
Discovery. Is that what Jared is? Maybe. “Well, that’s kind of what happened. He pulled over. This big guy in a leather jacket, sunglasses, boots, and all. He ordered me on the back of his bike. I didn’t have many other options because my phone had no reception. So when I thought that leaving with him might give me a better chance of getting home and living to see another day, I got on and he took me home.”
I look back over at Badger, who has a big grin on his face that tells me he wants to say something but is holding himself back until he hears the rest.
Smiling, I continue, “I kept bumping into him. First, at that damn coffee shop you love so much.”
That breaks his silence. “You finally went, eh? Wasn’t I right?” I nod, and he waves his hand. “Sorry, sorry. Keep going.”
“Then again at the Halloween ball. That’s where things kind of, well … took a turn.”
He holds up a hand. “No need to explain that.”
I grin. “I didn’t think I’d see him again, not unless I went to that coffee shop, which I was too scared to do …”
“You? scared?”
“Terrified,” I admit with a whisper.
He clucks his tongue, reaching over to pat my hand. His skin is soft and warm; I squeeze his hand gently. “My, my, I never thought I’d see the day. But you did? See him again, I mean.”
Nodding, I tell him, “Yeah, the girls dragged me to the Westbrook last weekend. He was there, and we, ah, hung out again.”
He’s quiet for another moment.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “And you enjoy spending time with this man? He seems different from what you’re used to.”
Enjoy is one way to put it. I bite my lip to stifle my laughter. “I do. And he is. Very different. But he’s … well, from the start, he’s admitted he’s not interested in anything serious.”
He releases my hand to rub his over his jaw, sitting back in his chair again. “Ah, a man with commitment issues.” He holds up a knobby finger. “Yet he keeps coming back.”
“I don’t think it’s on purpose. It just kind of happens.” I tilt my shoulder.
He laughs. “My dear, no, no. Despite what you may think you know, a man doesn’t tell you that and keep coming back just because it’s convenient.” My eyes widen a fraction. “Vera, you’re a beautiful woman, there’s no doubt about it. But you really do need to give yourself more credit.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“What’s in there”—he points at my chest—“only amplifies what people see out here.” He waves his finger up and down my body. “You just don’t allow many people to see it. But even if you try to hide it with your indifference and sharp tongue, a good man will always find it. And if he’s smart, he’ll cherish the full package for the gift it is.”
My heart warms so much; I’m afraid I’ll start crying. Damn it, I never cry. I roll my lips between my teeth and look at the ground. “How can you tell?” I clear my throat. “What if you’re wrong?”
He sighs. “Mirabelle and I …” Mirabelle was his wife, who passed away before I met Badger. “Let’s just say we met when we were both very young. I did a lot of things I wasn’t proud of. But she was a strong woman, and she refused to take my shit.” I look at him then, having never heard him curse before. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I wasn’t always old and wrinkly, you know.” He winks. “Anyway, I shaped up, refusing to ship out. She gave me hell for a long while, but eventually, she came around. We never looked back.” He smiles sadly. “And I’d give anything to see her again. Even for just five minutes. So you’ll know because the right man will not let go.”
Tears sting my eyes. He rarely talks about her, and I now think I know why.
Love has always fascinated me. All my life I’ve spent hours obsessing over it through the pages of books. The adventure, the magic, the risk, the beauty of it, never daring to hope that it might one day be something I could have myself. True, real love.
But looking at Badger while he tries to keep his composure, I suddenly wonder if it’s worth it. Maybe I’m right to stick to my what-ifs and just carry on the same way I always have.
On my own.
I grab his hand, gently squeezing it again. He sniffs and gives me a watery smile.
And I can’t help it; I need to know. “Would you do it all over again? Even knowing that you’d one day have to say goodbye and have your heart broken?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “In a heartbeat. As many times as God would let me. Always.”
He sees my struggle to understand and pats my hand. “One day, you’ll see. It’s not something that can be explained or read about in books. It needs to be experienced. Does it hurt? Absolutely and some days you think it might just kill you. But the joy far outweighs the suffering, that I promise you.”
I’m lost in my thoughts as we finish sorting the books in silence. Lost in the possibilities and dead ends that bleed from them.
“Well, I’m going to close up.” He rises slowly, using the arm of the chair to help him up. I stand too, gathering the books and carrying them down to the front counter for him then returning to grab the box to put in the storeroom. “Thank you, dear. Now, you must be tired after a long day at work. Maybe you should grab a coffee?”
I laugh. “Subtlety isn’t your strong suit, Badger.”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to try things on every once in a while.”
I smile and grab my purse, walking outside to an early evening sky of orange and pink. Pausing near my car, my heart jolts when I decide to hell with it and follow Badger’s advice again.
I walk in and order a coffee from a waitress who wears a big smile and a name badge that reads Jenna. But two coffees later, and after reading five chapters of my book with my heart galloping wildly in my chest, he never even stops by. Of course, he wouldn’t. It’s dinnertime, for Christ’s sake.
Giving up, I pack up and leave the little shop, buzzed on too much caffeine and feeling pretty damn stupid.