“Oh, my God! Where did they come from?”
“Probably from their homes,” Jax said dryly. “You’re the one who sent out the announcement yesterday.”
“I know but I thought maybe twenty people would show up. I had no idea the diaries were such a thing. Let me get the stanchions we use when we have the big-time authors in for a signing. We’ll need to control the crowd.”
Jax cracked the door. “Give us a minute, please. We’re going to have you get in line to keep things organized.”
She helped Cheryl quickly set up the stanchions. They secured the belts between the posts to form two lines, then she returned to the front door and pushed it open.
“If you know exactly where your diary is, get in the left line. If you want to be in the lottery, get in the right line.”
She repeated the instructions eight or nine more times, until everyone had chosen a line, then she went into the center of the store and picked up the microphone that broadcast over the PA system.
“Good morning,” she said. “Thanks for coming and for understanding this isn’t how we’d expected to handle the return of your diaries.”
“Shit happens,” a guy in the lottery line called loudly.
Jax held in a groan, then mentally crossed her fingers that Ramon hadn’t heard him. Luck was not on her side. Seconds later her parrot flew into view.
“Shit happens! Shit happens!”
Nearly everyone laughed. Cheryl’s eyes brightened with amusement.
“Oh, Ramon,” she chided. “You can’t talk like that in front of the children. If you do, no story hour for you.”
“Et tu, Brute,” he said in a British accent, followed by a loud “Shit happens!”
There was more laughter. Marcus walked over.
“I can’t decide if that’s better or worse than ‘you getting laid.’”
“Me, either.” She swallowed. “You ready?”
He motioned to the tall ladder he’d brought with him—the one that people could use to reach the higher bricks.
“I’ll keep it steady.”
Jax waved to the first person in the line on the left. The fortysomething woman hurried up and pointed to the wall.
“Six down, five from the left.”
Marcus positioned the ladder where she indicated. The woman climbed the rungs until she could reach her brick. She carefully pulled it loose and withdrew a slim diary. After glancing at the first page, she nodded once and put her brick back in place.
“Got it,” she said, carefully tucking the diary into her bag. “Thanks for not making me do the lottery.”
“Sure.”
The teenage boy was next. He pulled out his diary and ran from the store. The rest of the “I know where it is” group went quickly. By the time they were done, even more people had shown up in the store. Cheryl collected names while a few of the staff moved the stanchions to keep the lines orderly.
Jax used her hand to mix up the names in the huge bowl they used for drawings, then pulled the first one.
“Allison McHenry.”
A woman got out of line and approached the wall. She stared at it.
“It really is blank,” she murmured. “I know my diary was toward the middle but in the top half.”
Marcus climbed the ladder, a piece of chalk in his hand. “Tell me where you want your four-by-four square.”
