The Bookish Life of Nina Hill(68)

“I’m not taking your kidneys or your money,” interrupted Liz, firmly. “This is my business, not yours, and it’s mine to lose, unfortunately.”

“I could do porn! We could buy lotto tickets!” Polly was starting to cry. “I love this job.”

Nina was surprised. She knew she loved her work, loved the store as the safest place she’d ever been, but she hadn’t realized how much it meant to Polly. She thought about the customers, about Jim hanging out in the natural history section, about the reading hour and the bookmarks, and suddenly she was crying, too.

When Nina emerged from the bookstore, she found several members of her new family standing nearby, talking and laughing with Tom. Peter saw her first and came to meet her. Nina was trying to hold it together, but she needed to go home and think about things in peace. The crowd in the street was overwhelming, and the smell of burning sugar was making her head swim.

Peter hugged her tightly. “Hey there, I heard you had to step into work for a bit. Everything OK?”

Nina nodded. “Yeah, it’ll be fine.” She looked up at him, resplendent in a summer suit. “I didn’t even know you were here.”

Peter looked shocked. “Miss the Larchmont Festival? Are you mad? Last year there was a near riot over the ponies, as the competing forces of nostalgia and progress went to war over childish ignorant bliss versus animal rights. It was a rich vein, anthropologically speaking.” He looked around. “This whole Festival is fieldwork for me, plus I get to eat funnel cake.”

Nina leaned over and brushed powdered sugar from his lapel. “You do seem to be entering into the spirit. Powdered sugar is hard to get out of seersucker, though. It gets into the tiny little dimples.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” He lowered his voice. “I like your boyfriend, by the way, very nice.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” said Nina. “We’re just beginning to date.”

Peter frowned at her. “He introduced himself as your boyfriend. What’s the big whoop?”

Nina nodded, then shook her head. “I don’t know, I just . . .” Tom and the others joined them, and she stopped.

“Is everything OK?” asked Tom.

Nina nodded again, unsure of what she was even trying to say, but then Polly ran out of the store, weeping. She came up to them and threw herself on Nina.

“What are we going to do?” she wailed. “Everything is ruined; it’s all going wrong. I’ll end up destitute and working in community theater, and what will I do for Christmas presents now?” People passing by slowed down; in common with all actresses, Polly was good at projection.

Nina patted her shoulder awkwardly and looked around at all the surprised faces trying to parse Polly’s sorrow and catch up.

“It’s all going to be fine,” she said. “There’s nothing to worry about. Honestly.”

“Well, that sounds pretty serious . . .” Peter began, but Nina interrupted him.

“No, it’s fine. Polly’s just feeling emotional, aren’t you, Pol?”

Polly gazed at her with red-rimmed eyes. “Aren’t you upset? Don’t you care?” She stepped back. “You told me once the store was the only place you ever really felt safe.”

Nina felt herself starting to breathe more shallowly, her vision narrowing. She had said that to Polly lightly, of course, but it was true. Embarrassing to have it broadcast to everyone, but still true. “Of course I care, but it’s not over yet. Liz will think of something. We’ll have a bake sale.” She tried to laugh but was finding it hard to catch her breath. She looked at Archie. “I need to go home,” she said.

He nodded, seeing from her face what was going on. “No problem. Let’s go,” he said, turning to Eliza. “Can you mind Henry for twenty minutes while I get Nina home in one piece? I’ll be right back.” Eliza nodded and took the toddler, who immediately started crying.

“I can take Nina,” said Tom. He stepped forward, but Nina shook her head. He stopped and frowned. “What’s the matter?”

“I need to leave right now. I’ll text you later, OK?” She was overwhelmed with nausea, starting to lose feeling in her hands.

“I can take you home, Nina.” Tom looked almost angrily at Archie.

“It’s fine,” said Archie, firmly. “We’re family.”

“Wait . . .” said Nina, her head starting to swim. The bookstore was going to close. She would lose her apartment. Polly was staring at her. Tom was staring at her. There were people all around who needed things from her, who expected things of her, things she almost certainly couldn’t give. She reached out blindly, and it was Tom who stepped forward in time to catch her as she crumpled to the ground.





Twenty-three




In which Nina lets herself down.

Nina sat on the floor of the bathroom and laid her head against the side of the bathtub. The back of her neck was sweaty; her palms slipped on the tile floor. She hadn’t thrown up, but when Tom had carried her through the door, she’d whispered that he should put her in the bathroom. There was nothing she wanted more than to be alone, but he was moving around in the apartment, doing things. She needed him to leave; she needed to pull her apartment around her shoulders like the cloak of invisibility.