Page 58 of Trick or Stalk

“She responds better when you respect her.”

I glance at Margaret. “You know computers don't have feelings, right?”

“Tell her that when she deletes an entire special order.”

I look back at the screen. “Good morning, Mildred.”

Margaret smiles. “Fast learner.”

By ten, I've checked out three customers without accidentally charging anyone a thousand dollars.

An older woman asks me to recommend a romance for her granddaughter. I show her three. She buys all of them.

A man comes in looking for a mystery his wife mentioned six months ago. He remembers neither the author nor the title but assures me the cover was “probably blue.”

We somehow find it.

A little girl spends twenty minutes sitting on the floor reading to Penny. Penny lies beside her like this is her life's purpose.

And somewhere between shelving a stack of historical romances and helping a teenager find the fantasy section, I realize something.

I'm happy.

Actually happy.

I haven't thought about the ghost hanging from my porch in hours. Or the woods. Or Grandma's empty chair. Or the fact that the life I planned is temporarily on hold.

I'm just... here.

Surrounded by books.

Helping people find stories.

I run my fingers along the spines as I walk down the romance aisle.

Maybe Stella really did know something.

I’ll never tell her that. I wouldn’t hear the end of it.

The bell over the front door rings.

“Good morning!” I hear Margaret greet someone.

A familiar voice answers. “Morning!”

I peek around the shelf. Gracie walks toward me carrying two coffees. Walter waddles beside her.

“What are you doing here?” I hold up my hands. “Not that I’m not happy to see you.”

“I wanted to surprise you. Didn’t see the point in making you wait until lunch to see my smiling face.”

I grin at her, then glance at the cups in her hands. “Please tell me one of those is for me.”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you're willing to admit I make excellent coffee despite the espresso incident.”