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She sets the mugs down on the small table by the window that’s flanked by two winged armchairs. The view is of Main Street, but the redwood forest is also visible in the distance, the treetops edged with silver from the day's last light.
“This is an awesome spot,” I say. “And these armchairs are so comfy. I have to get one for my living room at home.”
“I know right?” she says as she sits down opposite me. “I sometimes just spend the whole day sitting here and reading.”
“You really love reading, don’t you?” I say and smile as I look over the shelves all around us. “Have you read everything in here?”
She blushes again, her cheeks matching the heart on her mug that she’s holding up to her face.
“How else am I going to recommend them if I don’t read them first?” she says and laughs.
“Do you have anything with a totally messed up heroine who doesn’t think she can ever be with a man, but then gets a super happy ever after anyway with the perfect guy?”
The words just tumble out of my mouth, and I’m sure I’m blushing as hard as she was by the time I’m done asking my question. Especially since she’s just looking at me, pity and sadness making her eyes watery like she’s about to start crying. But at least she’s still meeting my gaze. So many people just look away.
“Sure, those are my favorite kinds of stories,” she says just as the silence threatens to become unbearable. She stands up and goes to the bookshelf to our left.
“Let me see…” she says, surveying the shelves. “I’m really into historical romances at the moment and those are full of that kind of thing, but I suppose you want something more modern… “
“Umm, yeah, sure,” I say.
She’s totally engrossed in picking out the perfect book for me, but I’m not even sure I actually wanted a book to read. I just wanted to talk about Ruin.
She pulls out a book with a guy wearing a scary looking mask on the cover, but shakes her head and puts it back. “No, this one would be too triggering for you.”
She’s probably right, since damn near everything triggers me into thinking about the bad stuff. But maybe that’s what I need. Maybe I need to just face the darkness and all the demons it holds.
She picks out another book. And then a bunch more.
“Don’t hold back on the triggering ones,” I hear myself say before I’ve even decided if that’s a good idea or not.
She gives me another of those watery, pitying looks and shakes her head. “Some of these are way too extreme.”
She spends another couple of moments dragging books off the shelves, then returns to the armchair, cradling them in her lap, since the rickety little table is much too small to hold them all.
“All right, so let’s see…” she starts going over them one by one, reading the back copy and looking at the covers.
“This one’s about a girl who’s afraid to leave the house,” she says, showing me one with a lovely pink cover.
She holds up another. “And in this one, the heroine is fleeing an abusive relationship.”
“Sounds good,” I say and reach for them. “I have no problem with either of those things, so they shouldn’t trigger me.”
They probably will, but maybe not as bad as something exactly like my experience might.
“And in this one, they’re from opposite sides of the tracks, but perfect for each other,” she says, holding up a book with a butterfly on the cover. “And they don’t even know it.”
I take it and glance at the back cover, but the description is all blurry, the words dancing before my eyes.
“I think we might be perfect for each other,” I say. “But the problem is, that doesn’t matter because I can’t bear to kiss him.”
She stops looking at the books and gazes at me. “You’re talking about Ruin?”
I nod. Of course she knows about us. He’s made no secret of being into me for the last couple of months. And the way he rescued me from that cat trapping situation must be the talk of the town these days.
“Maybe that’s your intuition telling you something,” she says. “Like that it’s better you don’t get involved with him.”
“Why do you say that?”
