Page 7 of Making New Plans

A bell chimed merrily above the door as I let myself in. Immediately, a wall of warmth greeted me. The smell of books, old and new, reached out with pleasant memories, and the crackling of a fireplace nearby soothed away my angst.

I had crash-landed in heaven.

I wandered in further. The bookshelves were tall and short, circular and rectangular, like stumps and trees in a forest. Books gathered on them like leaves or were plugged into carved nooks or displayed on tree slab pedestals. My heart thumped faster at the asymmetry of it all. The little details begging to be noticed. The small window seats and squishy armchairs and wooden rockers by their wooden tables that invited someone to please, come and sit down, and enjoy. A few other patrons perched here and there like owls, reading their books, not caring less who had entered or why.

The ruffled wings of my anxiety smoothed, feather by feather. I shuffled to a spot near the cheery stone fireplace decorated with bronze sculptures of wizards and fairies and swordsmen. I had just started perusing a hefty bookcase labeled “New Fiction” when I heard a voice behind me.

“Hey, there.”

Biting back impatience, I turned to face a man about my age with shaggy, golden hair and a wide smile. A tattoo peeked out from under his sleeve and his tee shirt read “Baby Yoda is my co-pilot.”

For whatever reason, I relaxed.

“I’m Owen. I own this store.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. “Can I help you find anything?”

I couldn’t help grimacing. “Just looking around. I’ve never seen this place before. It’s perfect.” My ears burned from the awe in my voice.

But Owen smiled bigger, his green eyes warm. “I appreciate that. Seriously. It took a lot of work to make this little haven come true, and I wouldn’t trade it for a palace.”

His words echoed in a hollow part of my soul. To feel that sense of belonging and accomplishment and peace. That was a dream I’d all but let go of.

His eyes narrowed a bit as if reading the thoughts scrolling across my face. I quickly shifted my face away, pretending to look at the bookshelf instead. Usually I was better at my hiding my thoughts, but emotions were rattling around in my body like dice in a cup.

Owen jerked his head to the side. “Follow me.”

I followed without question as he led me to the back of the store, which was deeper than it looked on the outside. There were a dozen things along the way that I wanted to stop and look at, but I kept walking. Owen passed a cashier desk adorned with spinners full of bookmarks and stopped in an alcove made to look like it was hollowed out of a tree. The desire for my sketchbook hit me in the gut. I had stopped carrying it around years ago, but maybe I would come back with it.

“Wait here,” Owen said and went behind the cashier’s desk.

I managed to nod, too busy gazing around at the graceful lines of tree branches arching up into the ceiling. The books here looked more special than the ones at the front of the store. Leather covers and embossed spines. Some were still paperback and hardcover but sat on the most beautiful carved shelves. The sign above them read “Fantasy”.

Potted plants and vines crept from the ceiling and down the walls. The air smelled liked I’d been transported to an enchanted forest. Whoever had designed this place had done a beautiful job. There wasn’t a single thing I would change. If only I could come up with something this amazing, I’d never be out of work.

Owen emerged again and offered me a book. “You look like you could use a friend, and this has been one of my best.”

The book’s cover was worn leather with elegant gold script that read The Fellowship of the Ring with the same script in a strange language decorating the edges. A ribbon bookmark fluttered from within the pages.

I knew what The Lord of the Rings was, but I’d never read the books or watched the movies. Honestly, I’d never been much of a fantasy guy, but to be even more honest, I’d never tried.

I gingerly took it from him. My fingers immediately traced the lettering. “Are you sure? You don’t even know me.”

Owen shrugged. “I don’t need to know you to know you need that book right now. I sell other copies of it, but that one’s special.”

My head snapped up. “Then why are you giving it to me?”

He pinched his fingers together and flicked them around the room as if releasing fairy dust. “It’s hard to explain, but I just know these things. You really see my place for what it is, and anyone who can do that is good in my book.” Tapping the book with a friendly smile, he added, “But I’ll want it back when you’re done.”

“Of course,” I agreed quickly, curling my fingers around the thick book. “My name is Hunter, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Hunter. Feel free to come by any time to read, relax, whatever.”

“I will.” And I meant it. Hell, I had a whole month now. I’d need an escape like this.

“Oh, and before I forget.” Owen reached behind himself and nabbed a flyer from a stack on his desk. “My little brother is the new vet in town and is having an animal rescue event in the park this weekend. Come if you can.”

I nodded and accepted the flyer, much less sure about that invitation. I didn’t want to socialize with townspeople or get any more involved than I had to. Maybe coming in here had been a mistake.

But Owen gave me a nod and a “see ya” before I could change my mind and slipped away into his forest of books. I stood there for a moment, torn, looking at the book in one hand and the flyer in the other. With an internal grumble, I tucked the flyer under the book cover without looking at it. I couldn’t throw it away right here and now. But I could toss it when I got back to the lodge. As for the book, what harm was there in reading it?

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