With the balloon and a sandwich bag in his hands, Tommy was out of the truck almost before it stopped. Frank followed more slowly, gathering the rest of the food and his own jumbled emotions.
As he watched Tommy tap eagerly on the front door, Frank allowed himself a moment of pure, uncomplicated hope.
Whatever storm was brewing in Seattle, it would have to wait. Today was Isabel’s day, and Frank was determined to be fully present for it—for her, for Tommy, and perhaps selfishly, for the sense of belonging that only seemed to exist when they were all together.
CHAPTER 18
Isabel picked up a box of books and looked around the store. Her friends were helping her transform the bookstore into a modern, airy space. The weight of the keys in her pocket still felt surreal, a reminder that this dream was now her reality.
Kathleen was busy rearranging the display in the front window, her artistic eye bringing new life to the collection of local travel guides and photography books. Lynda was tackling the children’s section, sorting through picture books and arranging colorful cushions in what would soon become the reading nook Tommy had helped design.
“Now, remember,” Mrs. Henderson said, consulting a handwritten list she produced from her pocket, “Mr. Peterson always picks up his special order mysteries on the first Tuesday of the month, and Mrs. Graham prefers to be notified by phone, not email when her poetry books arrive.”
Isabel smiled, adding these details to her growing mental catalog of the bookstore’s regular customers. “And the book club meets on the second Thursday at six,” she recited, showing Mrs. Henderson she’d been paying attention.
“Exactly.” Mrs. Henderson beamed, her eyes twinkling behind her glasses. “You’ll do just fine, dear.”
A knock at the door interrupted them, and Isabel turned to see Tommy’s face pressed against the glass, a balloon bobbing above his head. Frank was behind him, holding bags from Bernie’s Diner and a bright blue cooler. His expression softened when their eyes met.
“Looks like we have more helpers,” Isabel said, hurrying to unlock the door.
Tommy burst in, thrusting the balloon toward her. “This is for you. Grandpa said today’s your first day as a bookstore owner!”
Isabel accepted the balloon with a laugh. “It certainly is. Thank you, Tommy. The balloon’s perfect.”
Frank followed more slowly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “We thought you might be too busy to think about lunch, so we brought everyone sandwiches.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” Kathleen declared, abandoning her display to investigate the food. “My stomach was about to growl loud enough to cause a scene.”
Tommy tugged on Frank’s shirt. “We should put the fish in the refrigerator, Grandpa.”
Lynda grinned. “You have a fish?”
“I caught it on the dock,” Tommy said proudly.
“Well, in that case, follow me,” Lynda said. “I’ll show you where it can go.”
While Lynda and Tommy sorted out the fish, everyone else cleared a space on the counter for lunch. Isabel was happy to see how at ease everyone seemed together. When Tommy returned, Mrs. Henderson told him about a new collection of adventure books that had arrived. On the other side of the counter, Lynda and Kathleen were debating the merits of various sandwich fillings.
Frank took the last sandwiches out of a paper bag and stood beside Isabel. “How does it feel?” he asked quietly. “Being the official owner?”
“Terrifying and wonderful,” Isabel admitted. “I keep worrying I’ll forget something important or change something the regulars love.”
Frank’s smile was understanding. “Change can be good, though. What do you need to organize next?”
Before Isabel could answer, Mrs. Henderson approached them, overhearing the question. “Oh, Isabel has marvelous ideas,” she said enthusiastically. “Tell Frank about the author events you’re planning.”
Isabel felt a flush of pleasure at Mrs. Henderson’s approval. “Well, I’m hoping to do regular book readings, especially for local writers. Gabe Lanigan has offered to be our first author.”
Mrs. Henderson nodded. “News travels fast. Isabel hasn’t started advertising the event, and people are already calling her about it.”
“What about the book club?” Frank asked, selecting a sandwich as everyone gathered around the food.
“I’m planning to continue the existing one, but also start a second group focused on mystery and thriller novels,” Isabel explained. “Plus a children’s book club on Saturday mornings.”
Mrs. Henderson patted Isabel’s hand. “It’s exactly what this place needs—fresh energy and new ideas. I haven’t had the spark to try anything different these past couple of years.” Her eyes, though tired, shone with genuine pleasure. “This old bookstore is going to thrive under your care.”
“I just hope I can live up to your legacy,” Isabel said, touched by the older woman’s faith in her.
