Chapter 9
814 Words
Chapter 9December 25, 2022
Evan
My first priority on Christmas morning was to walk over to the store. We weren’t opening, but before the Everything Must Go posts went up I wanted to put a little holiday brightness out there. I let myself in, turned on all the lights, and took some pictures for social media. Among those was a good shot of our bulletin board, which was now covered with greeting cards and notes from customers. Many were actual Christmas cards, some were Thank You cards, a few were pretty cards or notepaper with handwritten messages. I texted that picture to Mr. Cohen, who I knew would post something on f*******: (if nowhere else) within a few hours. He was good like that; if we sent him a picture, he knew he needed to say something about it.
Duty done, I shut everything down and locked it all up again, then walked back home to get ready for my date with Simon and his mother Augusta. “Call her Gussie,” he’d instructed, and I was practicing saying that even though my inclination was to open with “Dr. Livingston.” It’s not every day you meet a person who was involved with launching America into space.
I did at least have a gift for her, and I ran that by Simon too, because I didn’t want to make assumptions. When we talked about his mother, he told me she was a Star Trek fan. There was a copy of Star Trek: The Art of Juan Ortiz, signed by the artist, in our depleted science fiction section. He thought she’d love it, so I bought it and Sanaa did a fancy wrapping job on it. (She and Karl, by the way, were very invested in my romance with Simon. The difference in me from June to now was obvious to anyone, but the difference from November to now was more subtle.)
Because, he said, meeting relatives was always stressful, and I might want my car to be a fortress of solitude on the way home, I didn’t pick Simon up on the way to Hancock Park. Drove right past his building, half a block north of Wilshire in Mid City. Said, “Merry Christmas, Daisy,” knowing the longhaired calico would be napping for ninety percent of the time Simon was gone. Someday soon I’d meet her, too.
Simon popped out the front door about two seconds after I pulled into the driveway of Gussie’s bungalow. He scampered over to me as I got out of the driver’s seat, leaned up for a kiss, and said, “How was the traffic?”
“What traffic?”
“Right?! I saw the picture you put on Insta from the shop. I have to say, it makes my heart hurt a little knowing the store is closing, but Mr. Cohen had a good run with it.”
“Ever tempted to write about it?”
“Oh, God, yes. But there are scads of rescue a bookstore romances, and they pretty much all rely on a deus ex machina, which is not my favorite device.”
“No, you make your folks work for their happy endings.”
“Nothing good comes easy,” he said, “except you.”
I laughed, reached into the back seat for Gussie’s gift, closed and locked the car. “Lead on, honey.”
“Ooh, really? Honey?”
“You bet. Come here, honey,” I growled, tugging him back to me for another kiss. “Mmm.”
“Mmm,” he agreed. “You know she’s watching us from the window.”
“Good, let her see how much I like you.” We stared at each other for a few seconds, half smiling. I was pretty sure he could tell there was more I was ready to say.
But all he said was, “I like you too. Come on in, we’re both starving. Are you starving?”
“Definitely.” I had my free arm around him as we walked up the steps and across the front porch. Then we were through the door.
Gussie was standing in the archway between the hall and the living room, tiny and cute, wearing a set of plush reindeer antlers on a headband and a big smile on her face. “Merry Christmas, Evan Randall.”
“Merry Christmas, Gussie. I brought you something.” I offered her the wrapped book; she took it with a smile, reaching out with the other hand to catch my wrist and pull me closer, turning her head in a clear offer to kiss her cheek. I obliged, receiving a satisfied sound and another smile.
“My boy’s been so happy since he met you,” she said.
I glanced at Simon, who was blushing. “I’ve been happy too.”
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