Much Ado About You(6)
No way.
Hands shaking, I dialed the number on the ad after checking the country code for the UK. It rang five times before a woman with a wonderful English accent answered.
“Much Ado About Books, how can I help?”
“Uh, yes, hello, I’d like to speak to someone about booking a stay at the bookshop.”
“Oh . . . okay. Well, I’m the owner, Penny Peterson.”
Butterflies fluttered to life in my belly. “Hi, Penny, my name is Evie Starling, and I’d like to book the store for a whole month. Starting Monday. Please tell me that’s doable?”
Three
Alnster, Northumberland
If it weren’t for the slightly darker shade of gray in the line of the horizon, it would have been almost impossible to see where the sky met the sea on my first day in England.
Yet, I’d never seen anything more beautiful than the harbor village I now found myself in. The harbor itself was small, a semicircle carved into the coastline with stone arms curving out to almost meet. There was just enough space in the gap for the small fishing boats to escape out into the sea.
A small rocky beach led up to a pathway, and beyond that pathway to the left was a low stone wall that demarcated where row upon row of individual gardens began.
The gray of the day was broken up by a riot of colorful flowers and plants that blossomed in gardens. In each garden was a wrought-iron gate that led onto the harbor at one end and the street on the other. I gathered the gardens belonged to the terraced houses across the street behind me because small notices on the gates stated they were private.
Looking down at an older couple sitting in a garden that was decked and covered in flowerpots, staring out at the water, I thought how lovely it must be to own one. A place to sit and enjoy the harbor without tourists venturing into their sanctuary.
My eyes moved back to the water as I swayed a little against the large suitcase sitting by my side. As soon as the cab drove past the quaint English cottages and turned with the bend in the road, the water appeared on the horizon before me . . . and I knew.
I knew this was where I was meant to be, and the agitation I’d felt since saying goodbye to Greer finally settled.
“I know you better than you think I do,” Greer had said last night, clutching my elbows as we stood on the sidewalk outside O’Hare. “You feel like I’m abandoning you, don’t you? Now you’re acting insane and running away to England.”
Concern shone dark in her eyes.
Guilt suffused me. “Greer, no. I love you and I want nothing but your happiness . . .” I winced, feeling ashamed. “Okay, yes, it’s a little weird for me you’re pregnant. But this baby isn’t about me. It’s about you and Andre. I can’t expect everyone to stay standing still with me just because my life isn’t what I expected it to be at thirty-three years old.” I mirrored her, taking hold of her elbows. “I will not stand still anymore.”
Her fingers bit into my skin. “So, running away is the answer?”
“I know it seems like I’m running away, and for a moment I guess that’s what I was doing. But I’ve thought about it and I’m determined that’s not what this is. I’m just putting a little distance between myself and my life as it stands in Chicago. To get a little perspective.”
“Other people go to Greece for a few weeks. They don’t pay to run someone else’s store for them in the middle of nowhere England.”
I smirked at her dry tone. “I’m not other people.”
“I know.” She stepped closer to me, eyes filling with tears. “And that’s why I love you and I have . . . I have this horrible feeling I’m about to lose you.”
Understanding filled me, and I drew her into a tight hug. Greer and I met freshman year of college. We’d been friends for fifteen years, and on more than one occasion she’d told me I was the first and only person in her life she trusted to be true and steadfast to her. She came from a broken family, from parents who used their child as a pawn in their divorce battle. I had my own issues with family, and we’d bonded over the fact.
Even without our respective backgrounds, Greer and I would have always become great friends. There are people you meet in life whom you just connect with. Greer was one of those people for me. The first day we took a stroll around campus together, we lapsed into a comfortable silence. We felt no pressure to ramble awkwardly or to constantly ask questions or try to entertain each other. We could just be. Trust came easily to us. Our instincts seemed to tell us we could trust each other absolutely.
Other friends took time to find that comfortable silence and trust. We had it instantly.
I knew then that the idea of soul mates wasn’t just a romantic notion. I knew that people could find a soul mate in a friend.
“You could never lose me, Greer Bishop. You’re my family and the love of my fucking life.”
She laughed but it sounded shaky with her tears. “You’re mine too.”
“And soon”—I pulled back to glance down at her stomach—“I will be an aunt and little Baby Bishop will be the love of my life too.”
Gratitude filled her expression. “Really?”
That she would think any different made me feel a ton of remorse for my selfishness. “I’m in a weird place right now, but never think for a second that I don’t want you to have the things that bring you joy. If that’s Andre and Baby Bishop, I’ll rest easy knowing you’re where you want to be.”