“Everything is ready, and the casserole is in the oven. There is nothing to do, and since it is Christmas, I can’t think of a better time to talk than now, can you?”
Lesley led the way into the living room beautifully decorated with a tall slender Christmas tree. “Come sit next to me,” Lesley said, sitting down on the couch and patting the cushion next to her. “Tell me why you were calling. What happened? What did you need?”
“I don’t even know. This gift of the bookstore has baffled me. I honestly didn’t understand why you would give me something like this. I know nothing about books. I rarely read a book and the bookstore isn’t even in Southern California but all the way here in Montana. In the beginning, I just didn’t get it, but as I spent time in the store, and went through some of the boxes of books in the back room I began to fall in love with the books. I began to fall in love with the inscriptions. So many of the books had been given to someone for a birthday or Christmas. So many of the books were gifts from grandparents and parents and I found it really moving, and I’m not a touchy-feely kind of person. But it really made an impression on me that these books, seventy-five, one hundred, one hundred and twenty-five years old, all had mattered to someone. These books are well read, and loved, and as I added them to a database, I noticed certain names appeared over and over. Bessie… Dottie… Elizabeth.”
Rachel drew a deep breath. “Monday after work, my dad brought over two Christmas boxes that had belonged to my mom, and in them were two more books, books inscribed to Bessie and Dottie.” She looked up at Lesley. “My dad said my mother’s grandmother was named Elizabeth, and when she was young she was called Bessie.” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “Is it just a fluke, or are any of those books in the back room my mother’s?”
“We’re talking about the fourteen boxes in the back room,” Lesley said.
Rachel nodded.
“The fourteen boxes of books that aren’t on my shelves.”
Rachel nodded again.
“Those aren’t actually your mother’s books anymore, Rachel. Those are your books. I’ve been holding on to them ever since your mother went to college and didn’t return. They were family books, books that, as you say, belonged to her grandmother, and her great-aunt, Dottie, as well as other members of the family. I offered to ship the books to California several times but your mother said there was no place to put them, and then I had the store, and she said I should sell them since there really was no reason to hang on to them, but as your godmother, I knew they were your legacy. They’re a piece of your mother’s past, and I’ve been keeping them for you.”
“What if I didn’t want them, or the bookstore?”
“Then you’d sell the store and move on with your life.”
“You wouldn’t have minded?”
“It was my gift to you. No strings attached.”
“But you could have just sold the bookstore to Atticus. He wanted the store, and you would have made a lot of money.”
Lesley shrugged. “Life isn’t just about making money.”
“Yes, but… you’ve given away something you’ve loved.”
“To you, someone I love.”
The lump was back in Rachel’s throat. “You barely know me.”
“But I knew your mother, and adored her, and you are her only child.”
Rachel clasped her hands tightly, fighting for control. “I wish my mom had talked more about growing up in Marietta. I wish she’d talked about you.”
“Instead, she probably focused on you, and your studies, and your interests. That’s what good moms do. They take care of their families.” Lesley reached out and patted her cheek. “And your mother may not have talked about Montana and me, but she talked to me about you, and how proud she was of you, and of all the great things you were going to do with that brilliant brain of yours.”
“Did she really say that?” Rachel whispered.
“She did. Every time we spoke, and every time we wrote. You took high school math courses in junior high, and college math classes in high school. You were captain of the math team at your school, and you tutored math and science in your free time to earn money.” Lesley smiled. “Your mom was a smart, successful woman, but she always said you were her greatest accomplishment, and her biggest joy.”
The tears Rachel had been fighting fell. “I miss her. So much.”
Lesley covered Rachel’s fists, holding them tight. “I know. She left us far too soon.”
“She did,” Rachel agreed.
“And the bookstore, you don’t have to keep it. It’s not meant to be a burden. If Atticus wants to turn it into a steak house and you’re good with that, then do it.”
“I don’t think he wants it anymore.”
“The point is, it’s yours, and it’s not meant to be a ball and chain. If you can sell it and do something good with the money, then fantastic. If you want to keep it, and reinvent the store in some way, I support that. I simply want you happy.”
“Are you ever going to move back here?”
“That’s a good question. I don’t know. It feels really good to be back, but my sister has her kids and family in Queensland, and I like being surrounded by kids and young people.” She glanced up as Atticus appeared in the doorway.
“A timer is going off,” he said. “And your sister didn’t know if the foil needed to come off the casserole or if it’s ready to come out of the oven.”
“Tell her I’m coming,” Lesley said, before pushing a wave of Rachel’s hair back from her cheek. “Life is short. There are no guarantees. Seize happiness, and don’t let it go.”
They lingered after the late breakfast, staying into early afternoon, before saying their goodbyes to Lesley and her sister, and began the walk back to downtown.
It was cold but clear, and everything sparkled from last night’s snow. Atticus held her hand, keeping her close at his side, and Rachel enjoyed the brisk walk, relishing the fresh air and the exercise. As they traveled down Bramble they pointed out houses they liked, and which one they could see as a suitable first house. They played the game all the way until they reached Main Street, and as they turned the corner onto Main, Rachel felt a welling of appreciation. She’d been charmed from the start by the small town’s historic Western facades, and mellow brick buildings, and she loved the way snowcapped Copper Mountain rose up behind the domed courthouse. But most of all, she loved the people who were raised here, and were drawn here, and chose to make a life here.
She wanted to make a life here, too.
“You really don’t want the bookstore?” she asked as they crossed the street to Paradise Books.
“I’d have to pull out the books, and I don’t want to do that.”
“So it has to stay a bookstore.”
“Don’t you think it should?” he asked, looking down at her.
“What about your restaurant?”
“I’m in talks with the bank on the opposite corner. They are not yet ready to move, but when they are, they know I’m interested in their space.”
“So I get my bookstore, but you’re not sure if you get your restaurant.”
“I’m not worried.”
“But without a restaurant here, what will you do in Marietta?”
“The same thing I do in Houston. Return calls, answer emails, hold meetings, travel when needed.” He kissed her, and then added in a low voice, “As well as do all the things I couldn’t do in Houston… make love to you, kiss you senseless, fix up our house, explore the area, do ski trips… should I go on?”
“No. I’m still stuck on the making love part.” Heat bloomed in her cheeks as she unlocked the front door and then swung the door open. “But we could also make things work if you need to be in Houston, closer to your family.”
“That might be something for us to discuss one day, but I’d love to start our life together here. We met here.”
“Found love here,” she agreed shyly as he entered the store behind her, and c
losed the door. She wrapped her arms around him, and tilted her head back to see his face. “This has been the best Christmas ever—” And then she broke off, remembering he was supposed to leave. “What time is your flight? Don’t you have to leave soon?”
“I ended up canceling my flight,” he said, kissing her nose, and then her lips. “I called my parents this morning and explained that something had come up, but I’ll definitely be back for New Year’s. They host a big party at my grandparents in Galveston every year. It’s quite the shindig.”
“Were they upset that you canceled on them last minute?”
“No, because they knew I was hoping you’d show up.”
“They know about me?”
“Of course. You’re the girl I’m going to marry.”
She grabbed the pockets of his coat and held on. “You didn’t say that.”
“I did, and more.”
“You’re so sure of yourself,” she said, “but I do like a man with confidence.” And then she hesitated, a wobble in her voice. “So, when do you go to Houston?”
“Depends on when you can go. I’m planning on taking you home with me. I’d like to introduce you to my family. Maybe you’ll go with me for New Year’s?”
The idea was so incredibly tempting. “Won’t they think we’re moving too fast?”
He shook his head. “My mom and dad knew the moment they met that they were meant to be. They waited three months before they married, but that was a long engagement compared to my grandparents in Galveston. They eloped after just one week.”
“You Bowen men move fast.”