“Smart.” He pulled out of the driveway. “I hope you like surprises because I’m not telling you where we’re going.”
“I do, actually. Though now I’m really curious.”
He grinned. “You’ll see.”
We chatted easily during the drive, and I had no trouble relaxing into the conversation. Stanton told me about therenovations he was doing on his farmhouse, and his enthusiasm was contagious. “The previous owners let it fall into disrepair through no fault of their own—they were dealing with a severe illness—but the bones are solid. Right now, I’m redoing the kitchen. You should see the original hardwood floors I found under three layers of linoleum.”
“That sounds amazing. I love old houses.” I shifted in my seat to face him better. “They have so much character.”
“Exactly. Though sometimes that character comes with a hefty price tag.” He chuckled. “Last week, I discovered the previous owners had done their own electrical work. Let’s just say it wasn’t up to code.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. But fixing things up, making them right again… There’s something deeply satisfying about that.”
I loved how his eyes lit up when he talked about his projects. His passion was infectious, and I was interested in seeing this house he was bringing back to life.
When we hit Seattle, I started recognizing landmarks. “Are we going to Pike Place?”
“Nope.” He grinned.
A few minutes later, he parallel-parked on a street lined with historic buildings, and I knew exactly where he was taking me.
I rubbed my hands, an almost giddy excitement filling me. “The Elliott Book Company is my favorite spot in Seattle.”
It was the largest independent bookstore in Seattle, famous for its maze-like layout and incredible selection.
His smile was warm. “I had a feeling you’d like it. But there’s a catch.”
“Oh?”
“We each have a half-hour to find a book for each other. Then we wrap it—they have a wrapping station—and write three clues on the paper. Like a blind date with a book.”
My heart did a happy dance. “That’s such a cool idea!”
“I thought it would be fun to see how well we can guess each other’s taste.” He checked his watch. “Meet you at the info desk in half an hour?”
I nodded eagerly, already eyeing the store’s entrance. “Game on.”
The store was everything a bookstore should be and then some. It housed multiple floors of books connected by creaky wooden staircases, with reading nooks tucked into unexpected corners. The smell of old books and fresh coffee from the in-store café filled the air.
But what to get for Stanton? I wanted something that would show I’d paid attention to our conversations, something meaningful.
As I browsed, I thought about what I knew about him. He was thoughtful and observant. He liked fixing things. He appreciated beauty and history…
That’s when I saw it: a gorgeous paperback movie-edition ofUnder the Tuscan Sun. Perfect. It combined everything: renovating an old house, appreciating history and beauty, and starting over in a new place. Plus, the descriptions of food and wine would appeal to someone who clearly enjoyed the finer things in life. I loved the book when I first read it, and I had reread it—a rare thing for me and something I only did with books I truly loved.
At the wrapping station, I carefully wrapped the book in brown paper and wrote three clues:
1. Like you, the main character starts over
2. Old houses need love
3. La dolce vita
When we met up again, we both held a wrapped package. His eyes sparkled with excitement. “I see we were both successful?”
I nodded. “Mission accomplished.”
