Page 19 of A Novel Summer
No, Colleen was not there. But she’d already texted her a few times that morning with reminders and details she’d forgotten to tell her yesterday, the most important of which was the event that night for a nonfiction book about revered local poet Mary Oliver.
“Colleen isn’t here today. But I’m sure I can help you find it.” Shelby walked to the fiction shelf, scanning the blue spines.The People We Hate at the Weddingby Grant Ginder? Or maybeWhen We Were Bright and Beautifulby Jillian Medoff? Oh—maybe it wasSeven Days in Juneby Tia Williams.
Mia finally breezed in, her curly dark hair in two pigtails, a short-sleeve T-shirt under a strapless sundress, and Birkenstocks. Shelby thought back to the time when she’d first met her, barely a teenager, obsessed with old episodes ofHannah Montana, and determined to be a singer. She hated school, and already knew she didn’t want to go to college. “But don’t tell my brother. He’ll tell my parents.”
As someone who’d never been able to confide in her own parents, Shelby said, “Your secret is safe with me.” Still, she thought Mia was underestimating Carmen. She’d always found her easy to talk to.
Mia greeted the man as “Walter,” and after conferring with him for thirty seconds, walked to theSsection of the shelves. She pulled out a copy ofThe Light Between Oceansby M. L. Stedman.
After Mia rang up the sale, Shelby said, “I guess it’ll take me some time to remember all the customers. Things have probably changed since I last worked here.”
Mia shrugged.
“Mia, I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. Or keeping in touch,” Shelby said. “I just had a lot going on, and it was also sort of a gray area after your brother and I broke up.”
“You mean, after you broke up with him.”
Shelby nodded. “Yes, okay. That’s right. But I didn’t break up withyou, and I’m sorry if it felt that way.”
Mia shrugged. “Don’t worry aboutme. You should be saying you’re sorry to my brother. Maybe you can do that tonight.”
The book event was being held at Lombardo’s upstairs patio bar. Not ideal, but she couldn’t change it at the last minute. And certainly not for a reason as ridiculous as it just made her uncomfortable. She expected Carmen would be there, but not necessarily Justin. After all, he didn’t work there. Mia was probably just being provocative. Shelby had forgotten what it was like spending time with a teenager. But she hadn’t forgotten what it was like to spend time with Carmen. The truth was, she’d missed her.
Shelby couldn’t help but think that if Mia had soured towards her, Carmen would feel the same way. Or maybe, none of the other Lombardos had given her a second thought in the past few years. There was no way to know, and really, it didn’t matter. She was back in town for Colleen, and that was all.
By early evening, she was so busy writing last-minute introductory notes for the visiting author and making sure all the books and chairs had been delivered to the restaurant, she didn’t have the headspace to think about her ex-boyfriend or his family. Still, she felt a little pang walking across the street to the restaurant.
Lombardo’s had classic red-checked tablecloths, wide bay windows, plank wood floors, and whirring ceiling fans. The front patio was full and the sound system pumped out Billy Joel songs. Servers passed colorful cocktails, and she spotted her favorite brick-oven pie: prosciutto, arugula, and fresh mozzarella. Shelby caught sight of her reflection in the window on her way inside and realized wearing her hair long and loose in the heat had been a mistake; she put down the extra box of books she was carrying and pulled it back into a messy ponytail. At least she’d been smart enough to wear a lightweight dress.
Carmen Lombardo stood at the host stand to the side of the entrance, talking animatedly with her hands while a server nodded intently. She was a handsome woman, with thick salt-and-pepper hair, high cheekbones, and wide-set dark eyes that looked nearly black. She wore a pastel boat-necked floral dress that showed off her deep tan. Shelby hesitated for a moment, unsure whether she should stop and say hi or just go straight upstairs. Before she could decide, Carmen spotted her.
“Welcome back,” she said, walking towards her with open arms.
Surprised, Shelby leaned into Carmen’s embrace. She smelled the same, like rosemary. The scent memory was a punch to the gut; she was twenty-two all over again. And Carmen was the mother she’d always wanted and never had.
“So good to see you, Carmen. I’m...well, I’m not really back. I’m just helping Colleen Miller for the summer.”
Carmen held her by the shoulders, beaming. “You look good. You’re a big shot now, eh?”
“No,” Shelby said, embarrassed. “I’m actually... I’m working upstairs tonight. The book party.”
“Of course. Go...go. You know your way around.” She gave her a wink. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t,” Shelby said with an awkward wave.
She was in a nervous sweat, her dress clinging to her back. If she felt that way about seeing Carmen, she could only imagine the stress of running into Justin. Hopefully, she had a lot more time before she’d have to contend with that.
Justin held one end of the tape measure, and Kate Hendrik pulled the stiff plastic measuring tape parallel to one wall.
“Do I need another shelf here?” Kate said, glancing around at the space that would soon be a fully operational bookstore. Her blue eyes, an icy shade, settled on him. Those shocking eyes stood out because the rest of her was so understated: her shoulder-length straight hair was neither brown nor blond but somewhere in between—a sandy color. She dressed in neutrals and linen and ballerina flats. There was something soothing about her, no surprises. He liked that.
“If it fits, why not?” Justin said.
He was disappointed by his family’s apathy towards Kate’s new bookstore—towards Kate in general. Again, he told himself that they simply hadn’t had the chance to get to know her. That was one problem with their long-distance relationship. Most of their time together had been in her town, not his. It meant something to him that she was making such an effort to remedy that for the summer. And, if things went well with the store, maybe longer. His family would have to get with the program eventually.
“Are you hungry?” he said. He knew his mother was working the front of the house tonight because they were short-staffed.
“I’m getting there,” she said, pulling a paper towel from the roll on the counter and wiping her hands. “What do you have in mind?”
