Confessions of a Curious Bookseller(13)
You flatter me, and saying that my store is the best you’ve run into in all your world travels speaks volumes to me. And yes, Butterscotch really adds a flare of life and homeyness to the store. I haven’t been in the new store down the street, but I will take your word that mine is superior, although I do not wish to engage in competitive behavior, as we are both clearly after the same thing: providing excellent literature to the West Philadelphia area.
Personally, I do not believe I resemble Keira Knightley, but if you say so then I must accept. Ha ha! Do keep in touch.
Sincerely,
Fawn, Owner, The Curious Cat Book Emporium (a Mark Twain specialist store)
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Mon, Dec 10, 2018 at 8:09 AM
To: Florence Eakins
Subject: Father
Dear Florence,
I received a voice mail from Mother begging me to see our father. Sometimes I think I can’t live far enough away or be busy enough to make her understand that I can’t handle being in hospice centers. All that I think of is death and my own future. Luckily for you, your children will take you on as their burden in forty years, but I have no one. A facility will be my doom. They might as well keep the bed warm for me after Father goes. Doesn’t she understand that? It’s like staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. Does that sound selfish? By the way, this is not to say that I wish I had children; it is merely to say that I wish I had loads and loads of money to pay nurses to take care of me in my home, so I can be comfortable there and not among cold hallways with thin blankets and the constant smell of death.
In other news, my life is about to turn a very important corner! In a little less than a week, I am to receive nearly a thousand Mark Twain books. They are not all worth much, but by sheer volume alone I will be the only Mark Twain specialist in all Pennsylvania. I’ve done some Google searches, and no one has the kind of volume that I will have. It is extremely exciting and surely puts me up to a new criterion of bookseller. Perhaps I will start being recognized at conventions. Won’t that be something!
If Father were still lucid, I’d like to think he would be proud of me for my success. No doubt he would claim responsibility for anything good that happens in my store—he always had a way of letting me know that everything I ever learned was gleaned through him. I might have received much of my business acumen from Father, but let’s not forget that he ended up in financial ruin, so I learned as much from his mistakes as I did from his infrequent successes.
How is your husband? Is he still selling perfumes at Macy’s? Shoplifting must be terrible there this time of year. How are the kids? Has Charles got his braces off yet? Remember, don’t stop moving during the holidays. This is that time in which even skinny people like us gain a few pounds if we’re not careful!
Fawn
From: Florence Eakins
Sent: Mon, Dec 10, 2018 at 10:13 AM
To: Fawn Birchill
Re: Father
Hi Fawn,
I’m not sure what to address here first. I guess I’ll start with Joseph, who doesn’t work in the perfumes section anymore but has been moved to the home section. He seems happier there—“seems” being the operative word since he doesn’t like talking about his job very much because it depresses him.
I hope you know that I don’t intend for Little Joe or Charles to take care of me when I’m unable to care for myself. It would be nice, but it’s certainly not something I’m expecting, nor did I have kids for this purpose. God, I hope you don’t think that. Also, the hospice center isn’t that bad, Fawn. The medical staff there have an incredibly difficult job, and they do their very best to make it as nice as possible for their patients. It’s not like Mom and I are asking you to crawl into a grave with us. I think your perspective is in dire need of a shift. Actually, going to the hospice center once in a while might help with that.
In other news, I’m happy to hear about the Mark Twain books. I know running a business is tough, and it’s important these days to find ways to stand out from the crowd, for sure. I’m glad you’ve found something after all these years.
Flo
December 10, 2018
I managed to trap the cat with the runny eye. According to the vet, I am supposed to put drops in his eye, but I can’t bring him inside, as Butterscotch’s safety is my priority. And it’s not as if I can chase him around the neighborhood with an eyedropper! Anyway, I told them I couldn’t possibly, and they seemed to understand. They gave him a shot of something and said the eye trouble will likely clear up on its own. I let him go tonight. The vet bill was atrocious, but it was worth it. I hope he gets better, the poor thing.
If I could slip away from my family without them worrying, I would. I would go somewhere exotic maybe, and let thousands of miles be my excuse. I suppose I could, money or no money. People have picked up and left before and somehow made it.
I do the best I can, but I can’t shake the feeling that my family’s eyes are on me all the time. I can’t shake the feeling that they are, for some reason, worried about me. I don’t know why they would be. And using Father as an excuse to check on me, which is what I think is happening, angers me to the point where I simply want to dig my heels in. I wish Philadelphia were hours from Norristown. I wish I didn’t love this city, this store, or this building as much as I do. If I could pick this city up and move it to Borneo just to be away from my family, I would.