Page 15 of The Nook for Brooks
“Of course he is,” Bea declared, fanning herself as though the revelation was too much for her own heart. “He hides it well, but give him half a glass of pinot noir and he’ll quote something gloomy that makes you want to swoon and slash your wrists at the same time.”
I groaned. “That happened once. And it wasn’t gloomy at all. It was Romeo and Juliet, the greatest love story of all time.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Bea said, one very pointy finger in the air. “But isn’t that the story of two teenagers whose somewhat hasty and naive love affair ends in the death of no less than six characters, including themselves? All I’m saying—my little four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie—is that you’re an acquired taste. Which is exactly the way you like it.”
“Is that what you’d call ‘throwing shade?’” Cody asked Bea.
“Oh, my fair dinkum darling, that wasn’t shade. That was dappled light through the canopy. Trust me, you’ll know when I’m throwing shade. You’ll think someone just blotted out the sun.”
Cody was still grinning. “You know, I’ve been in a lot of bookshops, but this is the first one that came with its own floor show.”
“This is not a floor show,” I snapped. “This is a serious establishment for readers.”
“Oh, it’s serious, all right. Sugarplum, this store is as serious as a cathedral and quiet as a tomb. Now all we need is a messiah to come along… preferably in the form of a tall, skin-kissed stranger who needs a compass to point the way.”
“Bea!”
“Whoops, did I say that out loud?” But Bea was already making her hasty exit. “Sorry darlings, must go. I’ve got three more costume changes before the day is through. The things a woman must endure to look effortless. This much glamor doesn’t just assemble itself.”
She strutted toward the door like the whole sidewalk outside was a catwalk runway just waiting for her. As she flung the door open, she spun on one heel, sequins catching the light like paparazzi bulbs. “Oh, and before I forget, both of you are coming to Aunt Bea’s Bar tonight, seven sharp. The drinks are on me,unless of course you lose your charm, in which case you’ll be swallowing your dignity instead of daiquiris.”
She blew a kiss, stepped through the open door, and was gone in a shimmer of perfume and feathers.
We were left standing in the silence… just me, Cody, and those ridiculous sunflowers drooping in my quill vase.
Cody arched one eyebrow. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but did Aunt Bea just set us up on a date?”
Hastily I picked up a pile of Keats and Tennyson and rushed to the poetry shelf, as if stacking the books was now the most urgent thing on the planet. “I think you’re putting words in her mouth, she simply invited us for a drink. Of course, I won’t be going. I’m far too busy.”
“Doing what?” he smirked. “Recategorizing Byron’s poems in order of his mistresses? Counting how many times Poe rhymed a word with ‘nevermore?’ Underlining every time Joyce pretends a sentence is finished when it clearly isn’t?”
I gave a dramatic huff. “You know something, I never thought I’d find someone’s literary knowledge quite so annoying. But you, dear sir, seem determined to prove me wrong.”
He raised both eyebrows. “Sir? Bea’s right, you do need loosening up. I can’t wait to have a drink with you tonight.”
With that he winked, then headed out the door.
And there I stood, furious with Bea, furious with Cody, and—most irritating of all—furious with myself for already knowing I’d be at that bar at seven sharp.
I locked up the store at six on the dot, turned the Open sign to Closed, then went upstairs, pressed a fresh shirt, chose a new bow tie, left the Nook, and made my way briskly along the forest path towardAunt Bea’s Barnyard Bar, all the while telling myself I was not, in any universe, on a date.
I was begrudgingly attending the rendezvous out of little more than politeness. I would stay no longer than forty-five minutes, drink exactly one soda water with lime, and return home with my composure intact.
The path threaded between trees that filtered the last of the summer light into long strips. Leaves were the color of old paperbacks with the approach of autumn. As I walked, I rehearsed what I’d say to Cody when he arrived…
“Good evening.”Nice and neutral.
“How are you finding town?”Harmless.
“I’m not staying long.”Absolutely crucial to mention.
I didn’t even realize I was mumbling to myself until I rounded a bend and almost walked into Harry and Dean, my mutterings instantly turning into a scream.
I jumped
They jumped, Dean clutching Harry and Harry taking on a dramatic action pose to protect his young boyfriend.
“I’m not a bear! It’s just me! Brooks!”
