Crave

1. Amber-1

Amber

“I am closing the bookstore at the end of the month.”

My heart sank. Crying wouldn’t be helpful, only make things worse. I wiped a few escapees with the back of my hand, then glanced up and saw Kathryn’s beautiful, lined face trembling, tears sliding down her cheeks. My best friend and co-worker Christy sat with her mouth open. Silence settled over us until I finally broke it.

“Why? I thought sales were up, especially over last year…” My voice sank to a whisper. Sales had nothing to do with it. I gazed at the photo of Kathryn’s deceased husband Bartholomew. It hung on the wall behind the cash register, a light layer of dust covering it.

“I can’t do it anymore. Bartholomew’s Books was his business. For the last two years I’ve backed away, letting you two run it for me.” She sipped her coffee from the chipped china tea cup she always drank from. Kathryn lifted her head, staring at the bookshelves behind us.

“My sister wants me to live with her in Alabama. I’ll miss Raleigh, but my life ended here when Bartholomew passed. I’d appreciate it if you two would help me close the shop over the next few weeks. I will give you three months severance, so you will have time to find new jobs.” She stared into my eyes for the first time since she had dropped her bombshell. I’d always liked my employer, loved her even, and I knew this couldn’t be easy. I also knew taking care of her dead husband’s bookstore must have been hell.

“I, I can’t express how much this job has meant. I’ve been coming here since I was a kid. Bartholomew’s is like my second home.” Christy put her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as sobs quietly escaped. I placed my palm on her back, wanting to take her pain away. I was feeling it too, but I resisted giving in to tears. I wiped my eyes again and gazed at Kathryn. She stood and walked around the table and sat on the other side of Christy.

“Oh dear child, I would do anything to make your pain go away, but I have to move on with my life.” Her manicured fingers stroked the thick blonde hair Christy was so proud of.

I stood up too quickly and almost fell down, my knees trembling. My eyes scanned the floor to ceiling bookshelves. I loved the ancient shelves from the moment I first saw them twelve years ago. They’d been my friends, these crowded shelves filled with adventures and heartbreak. I held my hand out, allowing my fingers to caress the book spines as I walked to the rear of the shop.

I knew something was going on when Kathryn showed up at closing time. She rarely came to the shop anymore. Her eyes had shadows her meticulous makeup didn’t cover. She had gazed at the picture of Bartholomew, then asked us to stay for a few minutes after closing. Her eyes never left his portrait as she spoke. We’d shrugged our shoulders and agreed. We were nerdy types who didn’t have much of a social life. Where were we going to anyway? Home to the novel I’d been writing for the last four years was the extent of my social whirl. Christy would go home to make dinner for her kids.

My identity was encased in these books, selling them, loving them as if they were each a unique person in and of themselves. Even books I didn’t care for were treated with respect.

I guessed I could try working for one of the big stores. I’d always prided myself on working for and supporting independent bookstores. I didn’t think I’d like clocking in and out of a McBook chain every day. I’d managed Bartholomew’s Books since the old man had passed. I knew nothing other than this. In the background I heard Christy’s voice. She pleaded with Kathryn, begging her for a reprieve. I opened the door to the back room, got my coffee and walked back to the seating area up front.

“We can manage it for you, send sales reports. You’ll have a steady income and we can keep this place alive.” Christy cried. I felt my eyes burning in solidarity.

“Honey, I know this hurts, it hurts me too, but I have to move on with my life.” Kathryn replied. While the two women consoled each other, I looked around the room, seeing it with the dejected eyes of a mourner.

The building itself was over a hundred years old and lay on the outskirts of Cameron Village. It was a trendy, outdoor shopping spot. The area was filled with bars, expensive clothing stores, hipsters, and wealthy women from nearby Morrisville. It used to be a residence, but as the area became popular, many of the homes were converted to small bookstores, coffee shops, and hair salons.

Its wood floors were creaky, scratched and dull from years of use. Rich blues dominated the decor, my favorite being the dusty velvet curtains at the front of the shop. No matter how much we cleaned, dust was our constant companion.

My favorite part of the shop used to be the dining room. It had a stunning crystal chandelier that cast warm light on the ancient bookshelves. The rare and expensive books were housed here, and I had taken over their care when Bartholomew originally became ill. I was proud of how I grew the sales of these expensive first editions. In fact, most our profit came from this one small room.

Christy sat up straight, wiped her eyes once more, and apologized.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have allowed my feelings to overcome me. I know it’s hard for you Kathryn. It was selfish. I’ll do whatever I can to make this transition as smooth as possible.” She smiled the best she could, placing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Thank you Christy. Amber, how are you with this? You’ve barely uttered a word.” Kathryn took another sip of her coffee and waited for my response. Her eye twitched, something I’d never seen from her before.

I tried opening my mouth, but it refused to cooperate. I turned to my left and gazed at my reflection in the antique mirror on the wall.

I didn’t like what I saw. My hazel eyes were red, cheeks too. Somehow my shirt had become untucked, making me look more disheveled than usual. I’d hidden here, not worrying about my appearance. Now I’d have to go on job interviews, buy a dress or a suit.

I saw Kathryn’s reflection in the mirror, her face turned toward me waiting for a response. It looked drawn, remorseful. I knew this had to be one of the hardest decisions she’d ever made. I wasn’t helping matters with my silence.

“I know this must have been a difficult decision for you to make. I’d be lying if I said I was happy about it. But, I’ll do everything I can to make the next few weeks count. You only live once Kathryn. I understand why you’ve decided to move on.” My voice was only a hair above a whisper, a knot in my throat making it hard to talk.

“Thank you Amber. I’ve placed an ad in the paper. A going out of business sale will commence on Monday of next week. I need your help getting everything organized. One thing I’d like you to do is contact our special customers. You know, the ones who’ve carried this business over the years. Let them have first pick at the reduced priced inventory. This is especially important for the rare and collectible books.” Her voice went from melancholy to excited by the end of her statement. Christy and I looked at each other, our eyebrows raised.

Damn, she meant this. Our comfortable old life was being sold off.