“And I’ll ask Tina McGowan about anti-ghost spells when I take all this cash to the bank. I’ll feel a lot better when there’s nothing in here worth stealing. Every time the ghost thumps, I think I’m getting robbed, and then I don’t know which is scarier: a person with bad intentions or a clumsy-ass ghost.”
He sits up straighter, and suddenly he’s all business. “Speaking of opening day, I have a few questions, if you have a moment?”
“What’s up?”
Thus begins a process in which he asks me construction questions I don’t know how to answer and then makes suggestions that I immediately accept.
“I trust you,” I finally say. “You know what I want, you know I’m on a budget, and I know you’ll make the best decision for me. I’d like to open on Halloween, if you think that’s possible.”
Hunter leans back in his chair and laughs. “Oh, I’ll be done way before then, don’t worry. You just order your books and do your decorating and advertising—you know, the hard part. These shelves will be done within the week.”
He stands and stretches, showing me an enticing strip of belly.I want to nestle into him, but I’m not quite sure about the parameters of…whatever we’re doing. The first time I kissed Billy Wayne, I was fifteen, and we were all over each other like bonobos. But now I’m an adult, and there are all these weird rules I never learned about dating. I stand up, too, hoping he’ll make the first move. But he doesn’t.
“I’ll be downstairs building your dreams. Holler if you need me.”
I put on my big-girl panties and take a chance. “Uh, holler.”
He laughs and pulls me in for a hug and a quick peck on the lips. Nothing like the passion of our last encounter, just light and friendly and fun. “Cisco’s on his way to help me, or I’d take you up on that holler.” His eyes crinkle and he slips his fingers down my sides and into my belt loops, pulling me toward him. “But maybe you’d like to join me for dinner at my place? I make a mean steak au poivre.”
I put my hands on his chest, liking where this is going. “You can cook?”
His grin is knowing and pleased and…devastating. “I just follow the recipe. It’s not that hard. I don’t know why men pretend they’re so helpless.”
My knees literally go weak. “Are you sure you’re real?”
He leans in to kiss me. “Pretty sure. We’ll see how much you like your bookshelves before you decide. Is that a yes?”
“A thousand times.”
He winks and heads downstairs, and I try to convince my knees to stop wobbling and my heart to stop bouncing around like a freakin’ Gummi Bear. I finish flattening and bundling the rest of the cash, including the Poltergeist Fishbowl dollars, and try to figure out the best way to carry $1,223 to the bank without looking immensely robbable. I end up just shoving everything inDoris’s bird backpack and zipping down the privacy panel. Oddly, it weighs about the same as my missing bird. I wave to Hunter and Cisco as I push out the front door.
But the strangest thing has happened outside.
Much to my surprise, all theLost Birdflyers are gone.
31.
Just an hourago, there were dozens of flyers everywhere. Now there are none.
I stop at the blue mailbox, where I know I saw a flyer—and internally questioned its legality. Only a few torn shreds of tape remain, which means I did not hallucinate that moment.
Someone took the flyers down.
This is very strange. I shoot off my first group text to the Chamber, asking if anyone has seen the missing flyers or knows what happened to them. The response is immediate: a string of confusion and lots of emojis, plus rage from Shelby for the time, paper, and precious printer ink. No one has any clue, but the flyers were definitely here an hour ago.
I arrive at the bank and walk inside, looking for Tina. She’s not in view, so I go to the teller and apologize before sliding stack after stack of cash across the counter. A few minutes later, I am handed a deposit slip, pleased to find I was only ten dollars off in my counting.
After half an hour of me loitering around with an emptyneon-pink bird backpack like an absolute weirdo, waiting for Tina McGowan, people start looking at me funny, so I head back home and grab my laptop. I need to set up Wi-Fi, which is annoying because I need Wi-Fi to set up my Wi-Fi. There’s no coffee shop downtown, so I kill two birds with one stone (phrasing; sorry Maggie!) by putting five bucks in Nathan’s fishbowl for a lavender oat milk latte and some quality internet time. The first thing I do is schedule my own Wi-Fi service, which will be installed next week. The second thing I do is searchhow to open a bookstore,and much to my surprise I discover a treasure trove of resources online. There’s even a forum that seems to have every answer, link, and checklist I’ve ever needed. I sink into a squishy chair and take notes, making a to-do list and a to-buy list. They are both intimidatingly long lists. This is starting to feel very real. I have never been so excited about owning one of those chalkboards that you put out on the sidewalk.
When I check my inbox, Jemma is already sending me links to a sign shop that can turn around a reasonably priced vinyl sign in two days and an Etsy shop that makes those neon signs that everyone uses at weddings. Cait has already created three very different logos, and one of them is so perfect that my eyes well up with tears. The font, the colors—it even has a perfect little squirrel holding a peanut.
I am so lucky, I think, to have so much support.
When I moved up here, I felt like I was going to be all alone, but now I’m surrounded by generous, talented people who are willing to give their time and thoughts to help me realize what has only recently surfaced as my life’s dream. Not only my sisters back home, but Nick and Nathan and everyone in the Chamber. Emboldened, I make several purchases with Maggie’s card. Each time I add something to a cart, I’m giddy. Each time I click theBuybutton, I hold my breath and nearly chicken out. I’m not used to spending money. It’s…a lot.
But it’s happening.
It’s really happening.
