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Pippa
Pippa pushed one of her cotton-candy-colored braids out of her face as she focused on the computer screen in front of her. Moving her mouse, she clicked the order button. She didn’t really need more books, but it couldn’t hurt to have a few extra copies of the latest romance release. The paperbacks seemed to be flying off the shelves of her store these days—enough so that she could finally hire some more help.
A snort came from her side where Lady, her golden retriever and service dog, looked up at her with her brown puppy eyes.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. More books means more treats.”
Lady’s ears perked up. Pippa chuckled and got to her feet, grabbing a few books from the desk that needed to be re-shelved.
“Come on. I’ll get you one from the office.”
Pippa locked the door and walked through the shop, checking to make sure everyone was gone before she closed for the day. Her stomach grumbled. When was the last time I ate?Oh, right—the protein bar for lunch.
The clicks of Lady’s paws padded behind her. She passed the large sculpture she’d made of a woman reading a novel, her expression one of fascination as her hand reached out as if to turn the page. The entire sculpture was made from pages of books that she’d gotten from Goodwill. Taking stories that gave so many joy and escape and recycling them into something beautiful was a hobby of hers. Several of her smaller sculptures were scattered around the store. Some were more realistic, like the beehives on the counter, while others were more fantastical, like the mermaid perched in the folds of an open book with one page textured to look like waves.
Pippa’s wide hips knocked the shelf to her right, causing a book to fall sideways. She straightened it and made her way to the aisle marked by a white sign with black letters depicting a quote by Lloyd Alexander: “Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It’s a way of understanding it.”
She smiled to herself. The Oyster Bookstore was her own oasis. Here, her imagination could run wild. There was greenery in every corner, plants that kept the air clean, and the colors on the walls were vibrant. Each row had a separate quote—some by famous authors and some featuring famous concepts. Instead of a boring self-help sign, she had, “In life, nobody will help you until you’re willing to help yourself.”Instead of parenting, she had, “Children learn more from what you are than what you teach. - W.E.B. Dubois.”
One of her favorite sections was up the front to the right where you first walked in—a section dedicated to all things Puerto Rico, from authors and artists to cooks, photography, and of course their queer culture. It was a piece of her history she was proud to share.
Pippa placed the two paperbacks on the shelf and inhaled. The smell of books never got old. If someone could infuse it in a candle, they’d make a fortune off of just her.
She walked into the bathroom. All the stalls were open—except for one at the far end. Oops. “Anyone in here?”
“Me,” came a small voice and then a sniffle. Was it the little girl I saw earlier?
“I was just closing up. Do you need anything?” Pippa asked.
More sniffles came from behind the wooden door.
“Are you okay?” Pippa asked, concern growing in the pit of her stomach.
“I . . . I, um . . . I’m bleeding.”
Pippa’s eyes widened. “Do you need a doctor? Can I come in and help?”
The latch unlocked and a young girl, surely no more than twelve or thirteen, stared up at her. Tears stained her freckled face, her strawberry-blond hair falling loose around it. She crossed her arms as if she were hugging herself.
Pippa scanned her body, checking her over for signs of injury. “Where are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “I’m not. It’s . . . I think I got my . . . you know.”
Realization flooded Pippa and her shoulders relaxed. “You mean you got your period?”
The girl nodded. Her eyes slid to the floor, suddenly taking interest in the scuff marks.
“Is this your first one?”
She nodded again, her eyes taking on a sad sheen.
Pippa’s heart squeezed at the lost expression on the girl’s face.
“This is something to celebrate!”
The girl flinched and looked up at her with an incredulous expression.
Maybe I’m coming on a little too strong. “You’ve become a woman today. That is something so sacred and special, and I am honored it happened in my bookstore.”
