Page 15 of The Bookbinder's Guide to Love

It hurt to think of the things that would go undone. Maybe she should call to have the book repaired, but for who? Ford was gone and couldn’t enjoy the bound manuscript that had been in his wife’s family for generations. It had somehow gotten lost in the attic decades earlier.

“He called me about it,” Wesley said.

“Why?”

“That’s what I do, remember? I deal in old books. Repair, value and sell them.”

Of course, he’d just said that. She’d been too busy trying not to think about his mouth and what kind of kisser he might be. That explained his anger with her about the books. But it didn’t explain why Ford had given them to her. She had thought maybe Ford had been hanging on so she could continue to be his friend, but what if there was more to it? What if she had been meant to meet Ford so she could learn from Wesley?

Four

Sera drove away from Ford’s house and his disturbingly sexy grandson. She wasn’t sure where to go. Back to the workshop so she could start getting ahead on the journals seemed the smartest thing, but she didn’t feel like working.

She was sad, needing to cry about Ford’s death, but she’d decided to wait until she was home later. She always had a hard time with goodbyes and had created a ritual for herself to accept them and embrace new opportunities. But where was she going to find another ninety-year-old man who wanted to talk books with her?

It didn’t help that she was attracted to Wesley Sitwell. She wanted to keep him firmly in toad territory, but that wasn’t happening. For some reason she kept thinking about his mouth and the way it looked when he’d formed the wordtomes.

Tomes.

Ugh. She was such a fucked-up word nerd getting turned on by a big vocabulary. But there it was.

And she wanted to hate him, but that wasn’t happening. She would do better to keep her mind on Ford. Sera pulled her car into the parking lot of a coffee shop where she’d first met Ford. She’d been out exploring the area around Birch Lake trying to figure out where she’d want to buy a house and had gone into the coffee shop to do some online research.

It had been crowded on a Saturday morning and Ford had offered her the seat opposite him at his table. Sera had always felt like she had good instincts when it came to people. That day had proved her right once again.

He’d been readingTheir Eyes Were Watching Godby Zora Neale Hurston. She’d read it at seventeen, living in Florida, scared of the future. Janie’s story of sexual awakening and strength throughout her life, even in a hurricane, had given Sera hope.

She’d mentioned she liked the book and Ford started a conversation. It was the first time she’d talked books with anyone other than her college professors. It had been invigorating. She and Ford didn’t view the story the same way, which had been one of the things she’d loved about him.

He always challenged her to look deeper. She’d reread the book and then come back the next week to talk about it again.

She entered the coffee shop, taking off her coat, noticing the table she and Ford usually occupied was empty. She put her coat over her usual chair—before going to order a café au lait.

“Hey, girl. Surprised to see you today. Is Ford meeting you?” Lily, the woman who owned and ran the café, asked.

Sera swallowed against the lump of emotions in her throat. “Ah, no. He passed away yesterday.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I really liked him. Are you okay?” Lily asked while she was making Sera’s coffee.

No. She wasn’t okay. But Sera wasn’t going to tell Lily that. She just smiled sadly. “It was a shock but maybe it shouldn’t have been. Ford just seemed ageless more than old to me.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” Lily gave her a comforting look. “Do you want anything to go with your coffee?” she asked.

Sera ordered a butter croissant, which Lily made fresh every morning, and then took both to her table. She almost wished she could have had one more conversation with Ford. But the truth was she wouldn’t have asked the questions that were on her mind now. Because she would have had no way of guessing he would leave her anything in his will.

Why had he?

That was really what Wes had been asking her in all the different ways he could since she’d received his douchey letter that morning.

Sera had no idea.

Talking about books played into Ford’s agelessness. Reading, for Sera, had always been an escape into a life that was different from her reality. On the pages of books, she could be a daughter or a sister, an adventurer or a spy. But her discussions with Ford had shown her how to bridge that fantasy life into reality.

The shared experience of the books they’d discussed had given them a deep friendship. But why would her friend leave her books that his grandson wanted?

Ford wasn’t a man who’d done anything on a whim. In some of their conversations they’d talked about family. He’d made her feel comfortable sharing that she didn’t have one. There were times when she’d been conflicted about her biological parents, both of whom had died in a meth fire in their trailer while Sera had been in day care. It was complicated, and as a foster child she’d often pretended she was a lost princess or something else. Anything other than her reality.

Ford hadn’t judged. Had just shared that all parents made mistakes and told her of the ones he’d made. She listened as he’d talked about watching his son treat his grandsons poorly after they’d been returned and his divorce had been final.

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