The Bookish Life of Nina Hill(79)

The hallway of Lydia’s house was dark but opened into a large, sunny room at the back that made Nina stop short. Books lined every wall and stood in stacks on several large tables. Books were open on a desk, books were piled on the floor, and there were even two books open on the arms of a chair that looked potentially as comfortable as hers.

“Wow,” she said and stopped herself from saying, I guess you like books, because it was something people always said when they came to her place, and it irritated her.

Lydia turned to face her, catching her gazing openmouthed at the shelves. “I like books,” said Lydia. “I don’t like people.”

“Me neither.”

Lydia shook her head. “That’s not true. You’ve already become closer to my family than I am, and you just met them. You might be shy, you might be introverted, even, but you like people.”

Nina opened her mouth to object, but closed it. Lydia might be right.

“Now, a true misanthrope,” Lydia continued, “hates and despises people, and I don’t hate them. I simply don’t like them much, in the same way I also don’t enjoy oysters. Unfortunately, they’re harder to avoid than oysters.”

Nina nodded in understanding, gave a small smile, and held out the envelope. Lydia stepped forward to take it.

“Thanks.”

There was a pause, then Nina asked, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

Lydia gazed at her aunt for a long moment, then sat down on the chair with the two open books. Nina sat down on the sofa, and Euclid jumped up next to her.

“Do you have a cat?” Lydia asked.

“Yes,” Nina said. “His name is Phil.”

Lydia said nothing, just raised one eyebrow in the exact way Nina did. So Nina did it back at her, and suddenly Lydia laughed.

“I may have to admit that you’re related to me after all. You like books, you like cats, you clearly enjoy a useless fact, and you raise your eyebrow exactly the same way I do.” She looked at the envelope. “I don’t know why I’m going to open this. There’s almost nothing it can contain that will make any difference to me.”

“Maybe it’s a really good recipe for banana bread.”

Lydia snorted. “Or maybe it’s a bomb.”

“Why would your grandfather leave you a letter bomb?”

Lydia looked at her witheringly. “Why would he leave me a recipe for banana bread?”

Nina shrugged. “Maybe it’s an apology.”

“For being a crappy grandfather? Too little, too late, don’t you think? Unless this envelope contains Hermione’s Time-Turner and a promise that he’ll actually pay attention to me this time around, it’s just paper.”

“But don’t you want to see?”

“No,” said Lydia, but then she opened the envelope and tipped the contents into her lap. She sat silently and looked, then picked up a birthday card.

“I gave this to him when I was ten or so.” She picked up a friendship bracelet of red and yellow threads. “And I gave this to him much later.” Finally, she picked up a folded piece of paper and opened it up.

“ ‘Dear Lydia,’ ” she read, “ ‘If you’re reading this, I’m dead, I’m afraid.’ ”

“Huh,” said Nina. “He said that in my note, too.”

Lydia looked at her over the piece of paper. “Well, it was true in both cases, right?” She continued to read:

You were always the smartest of my grandchildren, and the one that made me most nervous. I worried you saw right through me, saw how shallow I was and judged me for it. Now I think I was wrong, and I am more sorry than I can say that I never got to know you better. You’re a very special person, Lydia, and I hope you can forgive me. I realize you’ll probably say this is too little, too late, and you’ll be right. But it’s the only thing I can do, because no one can turn back time. Except Hermione, of course.

Lydia looked at Nina and her mouth twitched. “That’s creepy.”

Nina shrugged. “People make book references. What can you do?”

Lydia continued reading:

By the way, you and Nina would probably really get along. You should have dinner or something. I’ve put a gift card for AOC in the envelope. Hopefully, it’s still in business and you two can start to be friends.



Lydia looked up at Nina and frowned. “Such a manipulative bastard, even dead. It’s funny how people behave badly their whole lives and then think they can say sorry and it’s all erased. Not that AOC isn’t a great restaurant.” Euclid left Nina and wandered over to jump on Lydia’s lap. “He left my mom and her sister when they were really young, and my mom was kind of ruined by it. My grandma is a total witch—did you catch that?”

Nina nodded. “It was subtle, but yeah, I noticed.”

“She made my mom’s life difficult, and my mom made my life difficult, and now I make other people’s lives difficult, and maybe it’s time the whole cycle stopped.” She sighed. “I just find people so . . .”

“Scary?” asked Nina, sympathetically.

Lydia looked at Nina for a long time. “No,” she said. “Deeply irritating and fun to torment.”

“Oh,” said Nina.