They all raised their drinks—water, tea, or soft drinks.“To Margaret,” they echoed.
“And toMiddlemarch,” Dylan said.“Which I am absolutely going to finish, if only so Margaret can haunt me less judgmentally.”
Claire said, “On a different topic.I did speak with Gerald’s wife.She’s planning a memorial service for Gerald and asked if we could all come.She said he loved books and good conversation.And she said she hoped our club would continue on.She said Gerald wouldn’t want us to stop.”
“So it’s settled,” said Charlotte with a smile.“Thanks, everybody.”
There was a pause where the group seemed to be deep in their own individual thoughts.
“I keep thinking about Pamela,” Olivia said.“All that anger she must have been carrying all these years.It’s just so sad.It doesn’t excuse what she did.But it just feels tragic.”
They talked it all out for another hour, sharing their memories of Gerald, amazed at his being Geraldine Hartwell.They talked about Margaret’s sharp intelligence despite her difficult personality.It felt like a kind of closure to Sam.
After the meeting finally broke up and as Sam was leaving, Charlotte pulled her aside.“I’m so sorry about what happened at the bookshop.If I’d known, I’d never have put you in the position of waiting for the delivery.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Sam said.“And your mom needed you.How is she doing with the rehab program?”
“Better.The doctor says she’s getting stronger every day and might go back home next week.”Charlotte squeezed Sam’s hand.“But I keep thinking about you being there alone with Pamela.”Her voice caught, and she shook her head.
“I’m okay,” Sam said.“Really.The delivery driver showed up at exactly the right moment.Even if he hadn’t, I feel like I could have gotten away from Pamela once I’d gotten out that back door.”
“Still.”Charlotte’s eyes were damp.“You’re my friend, Sam.The thought of something happening to you in my shop just hurts me.”
Sam hugged her.“I’m fine.Everyone’s going to be fine.”
Sam had just gotten home from the book club meeting when her phone buzzed.Aiden’s message said:How are you doing?
She smiled and typed back:Home from book club.Want to come over?Fair warning: I’m planning popcorn and a romcom to escape reality.
The three dots appeared.Be there in 20.
When Aiden arrived, he had a bag of peanut M&M's.“For the popcorn,” he explained.He wore a careful expression that suggested he was still trying to figure out where they stood.
Sam took the candy and gestured him inside.“Thanks for checking in on me.I know it’s been a weird few days.”
“Weird is one word for it.”Aiden followed her to the living room, where Arlo immediately demanded attention.“How was book club?”
“Good, actually.Sad sometimes, but good.We’re going to keep meeting.”Sam headed to the kitchen and pulled out the popcorn.“And we’ll be at Gerald’s memorial.”
“Good.”Aiden leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching her.“And you’re really okay?Not just saying it?”
Sam paused, the popcorn bag in her hand.“I’m getting there.I keep replaying the moment I realized it was Pamela.And the look on her face when she had that bookend.”She shook her head.“But I’m okay.Especially when I have distractions.”She held up the popcorn.“Hence the romcom and popcorn plan.”
“What are we watching?”
Sam said, “I was thinkingYou’ve Got Mail.Classic, charming, zero murders.”
“Perfect.”Aiden smiled.
They settled on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn and M&M's between them, and Arlo sprawled across both their feet.The movie started, and for a while they just watched in comfortable silence.
But about halfway through, Sam found her attention drifting from the screen to Aiden’s profile; she noted the way he smiled at the funny parts, the way his hair was slightly rumpled from his day at school, and the simple fact he’d dropped everything to be with her.
“You’re not watching,” he observed, glancing over at her.
“No,” Sam admitted.“I’m not.”
“Is the movie not working as a distraction?”
