Open Books

“Because it feels awkward.”

Oh? Has she still not gone yet?

“It’s not like I even know him anyway.”

It’s been weeks.

“No, I don’t want to. I don’t need to have a reason.”

If she doesn’t want to go, then forcing a meeting isn’t going to change her mind.

“I’m hanging up.”

I watched as the young customer made her way to my front desk, carrying a few volumes from that new series currently popular on social media. The promotional artwork around the display table sure was eye-catching.

“Find everything okay?” I asked cheerfully.

“Yeah, do you know when the next volume will be out?” she asked as she rummaged through her shoulder bag.

“The company said I should expect it in a few months. There’s been a delay in printing, it seems.”

“I heard the same thing. That gives me time to catch up, then.”

“I’ll let you know if I hear otherwise next time. Anything else?”

“No, no, that’s it.”

“That’ll be $64.92. Need a receipt today?”

“No, thank you.”

I bagged her books with trained speed as I watched another customer amble through the door, setting off the bell hanging in the corner. I bade her goodbye as she scrambled out into the breezy fall afternoon, and wondered if the series was worth reading. The premise of a romantic comedy about a zombie didn’t really appeal to me, but manga is a lot easier to read, so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.

Will she go see him? Telling a young girl like her to do something out of adult obligation never works out.

My thoughts were soon filled with far-fetched imaginings as I pushed my cart of books to re-shelve. Awkward childhood, familial spat, the parents wanting something in return?

“Excuse me,” an elderly man perusing the autobiography section flagged me down. “Where do I find ‘The Tell’ by Amy Griffin?”

“Right here, sir,” I answered, showing him the shelf further down the aisle. I watched him pick up the book and start reading the jacket.

Huh, I wonder if it’s any good? I wonder how he got to know about it?

I spied Oprah’s Book Club symbol as I continued to re-shelve and made a mental note to look it up later.

“No, your family is condescending, doesn’t have any basic civil manners, and they all chew with their mouths open. I am not going to go just to have them make snide remarks about me and my ‘middle management’ job.”

I paused as I heard a whispered, and very heated, conversation from the end of the row.

“Listen here, Lisa, if I have to go, then I will tell them about our divorce myself the minute I walk through that door.”

If my eyes could have opened any wider, they would have. I looked around me to see if any other customers were in earshot, and then realized what section he was in.

Heh, Self-Help.

I spun on my heels to go the long way around, sneakily catching a glimpse at Lisa’s ex-husband, and started humming to myself. My phone chimed, alerting me to a calendar reminder to start ordering the spring reading list for the local high school. My store doesn’t get many students coming through for mandatory reading materials, but classics and Shakespearean titles will occasionally sell if the covers are visually appealing enough. The Used Books section also gains traction if I update the prices online early enough.

The profit margins aren’t too big, but my cozy shop has seen steady business and moderate success since I opened a few years ago. I can’t compete with warehouse prices, but I’ve tried to make my corner of the book world appealing.

Oh, Jeremy stopped by. Wonder if he’ll like any of these.

I gave a cheery greeting to one of my regulars as I dropped off my haul, made small talk, and started pushing my book cart back to the other side of the store. I glanced slowly back and watched as Jeremy made his way to the pile of tomes like a dragon eyeing a new treasure. He sure didn’t hide his love of used books.

I’m sure half his library is from here. Oh, wait, does he shop at other bookstores? What a cheater!

I chuckled inwardly before spotting Marge shuffling toward my desk. Pushing my half-emptied cart to the side, I briskly walked to the front and called out to her. I asked how her new grandchild was doing and learned he just got let out of the NICU and would be able to go home with Cathy and Erik soon. When I asked about all the cookbooks she had picked up, she said her best friend was flying in to visit for the weekend, and they were going to try out some recipes.

“If I don’t get through them all, I’m sure Erik would take them from me. Cathy sure does love his cooking.”

“Oh, I bet. A new mom doesn’t have the energy to be standing in the kitchen, right?”

“Quite so! Oh, that reminds me, maybe Betty and I should make some dishes to bring over to the hospital. It’s been a while since everyone has seen each other, probably not since the wedding. Oh, I should tell Betty. We’ll go shopping for some additional goodies when she lands.”

“Maybe for diapers? Can never have enough, I hear.”

“Oh, that’s too practical. No, it needs to be more fun.”

“A framed picture of diapers, then.”

“Now that’s the ticket, dear!”

I wave Marge off and internally hope Cathy is up for company this weekend. 

Well, if Betty can cook, I’m sure she’ll be welcomed with open arms.

My attention snaps to the next customer, another regular who works across the street at the coffee shop. We chit-chat about how slow things have been this weekend, theorize how the weather must be making everybody stay in, and gossip about the new flower shop closing down in the next plaza because they were caught working as a front.

I watched him hold the door open as two teen girls giggled their way in and made a beeline to the romantic zombie table. Their squeals and hushed conversation were just barely audible from my post. I positioned my stool under me as I went through my purchase orders, inquiries, and updates on the computer. The bell brought my eyes up to another teen girl. She saw me first, but instantly looked away as her friends called her attention. I watched as she half-jogged her way over to them, turning the squeals from a duo to a trio, when Lisa’s ex-husband suddenly came into view, plopping a basket half-filled with self-help books and various manga in front of me.

What did Lisa do? What did you do?

More wild imaginings ran through my mind as I rang him up, my customer service routine on autopilot. “Find everything okay?” “Fine.” “Are any of these gifts?” “No.” “Would you like your receipt?” “No, thanks.” “Here’re your bags. Thanks for coming in.” “Bye.”

Hmm, what did you see in him, Lisa?

Out of the corner of my eyes, I watched the girls perform a rousing game of “Rock, Paper, Scissors” as I turned back to my computer.

It’s almost closing time.

I pushed the intercom button, alerted my customers that the shop would close in thirty minutes, and resumed my work.

Let’s finish this quickly.

I quickly clicked through my orders, jotted down the titles I would need to find later, and closed out my windows as a line started to form. The end-of-the-day rush doesn’t last long, but the quicker I can shoo people out, the sooner I can resume my librarian duties and pick up food on the way home.

The elderly man left holding a few books that Oprah had recommended.

Jeremy took about a third of the books that I returned.

A few customers walked out empty-handed.

The girls chittered excitedly about who got to read volume one first, how unfair it was, and that they called dibs on the next volume release. I interjected that it would only be a few more months, which prompted loud exclamations that the first girl needs to read “super-duper fast, or else!”

I walked Lenny, another regular, out, gossiping about the latest celebrity news until they turned a corner, and closed and locked the door. I groaned out loud at my checklist before placing my to-go order.

Twenty minutes to close up.

I zoomed through the now-empty aisles to grab any books that looked out of place, wrote down tasks to take care of in the morning, and shoved the list into my bag. Finishing the closing procedure quickly, I grabbed a book on my way out the door, and locked up the shop.

I need to finish this before Jenny comes in tomorrow. I can’t have her spoiling the ending for me, not again.

Making my way to my car, I gave one last look at my darkened windows before waving goodbye to the coffee shop worker across the street. He stopped bussing the table to smile and wave back.

See you tomorrow.