“That’s what JMB’s event was supposed to do. And frankly, I don’t want to do a romance conference or festival or whatever.” He reaches over the counter, grabs a pile of unread mail from a shelf, and begins rifling through the envelopes, ignoring Riley’s incredulous stare.
“Why?” she demands. “It’s a good idea. A great one. Brenna thinks so, too.”
“So you two are back on speaking terms?”
Riley sighs deeply. “Not exactly, but I’m making an effort because I know it’s awkward.” Miguel keeps looking at her, so she adds, “And yeah, because I do feel bad and my first apology didn’t really seem to do the trick. Point is, given that she used to do the accounts at Borders, Brenna of all people understands what works and what doesn’t. You think the JMB reading was supposed to be big? Well, this would blow it out of the water. We need to think bigger if we’re going to survive. With a little testing, who knows—maybe we could stop worrying about rent and buy the building.”
“That’s not going to work,” he says simply.
What’s wrong with him? Romance’s the antidote to the dumpster fire that is the world: That’s what Amelia liked to say when someone asked her why she didn’t write something “serious.” She was joking…but also, she meant it. And Miguel’s being ridiculous and irrational.
“At least let me move the Romance section to the front of the store so everyone sees it when they walk in,” says Riley.
He shakes his head. “Not now. We’re teetering on the edge of closing. This isn’t the time for experiments.”
“This is theexacttime for an experiment.” She tosses her braids over one shoulder and crosses her arms. “Miguel, I know you don’t have the money to pay me like a manager, but I’m already functioning as ours. I have been since Amelia got sick and you couldn’t come in as much.”
“Riley,” he begins, but she doesn’t give him a chance to continue.
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’ve loved doing that work, which hopefully I’ve made clear. But you and I both know I deserve a spot at the table when it comes to decisions, and I’m asking you to let me make one of those decisions while there’s still a chance. More important, I might be the only person around here who knows what you’re going through. I’ll never get over losing Jamal in the terrorist attacks. When I close my eyes at night, I still think about how I couldn’t call him and I couldn’t get downtown, and how I felt like my whole life had ended as I watched the smoke from the towers from our apartment on the other side of the river. Then came weeks of waiting—even though I knew, Iknew,he was gone. I miss him every single second I’m conscious, Miguel, and most of the ones when I’m not. I’m not sure that I’ll ever recover, which is probably why Brenna and I never stood a chance,” she says, her eyes glistening with tears. “So, I’m not going to be the one to tell you to get over it; you probably won’t. But also, I’m not going to pretend like you’re okay anymore. I’ve known for a while that you’re not, and I’m sorry that I didn’t bring it up sooner. I didn’t want to offend you or make it worse. I should have known that that was a mistake.”
Now he gives her his full attention. “I’m not offended by you taking credit for what you do. You’re a great employee, Riley, and I am a hundred percent aware that the store couldn’t havesurvived this long without you. If I haven’t said that before, I’m truly sorry.”
“Thank you, but that’s not what I mean. Can you watch the register for a second?” She jogs back to the break room without waiting for him to respond. A minute later, she returns with a piece of paper, which she presses into his hand. “Here.”
“What’s this?” asks Miguel, glancing down atit.
“The name of my therapist,” Riley tells him. “She’s phenomenal, and she specializes in grief. Call her.”
He’s holding the paper like it’s coated in bird droppings. “My sister already tried this. Idon’tneed a therapist.”
She gives him a knowing look. “That’s what I said. Now I wish I’d gone sooner. You know I was still hardly functioning when I showed up here. I don’t blame myself, but I realize now that I needed someone else to nudge me. Did you know Amelia was the one to encourage me to go get help? I’m not sure if she ever told you that. She was already starting to feel unwell, yet she was worried aboutme.” Riley’s getting choked up. “And she would have wanted you to get help, too, Miguel.”
“I appreciate your concern.” Except now he doesn’t sound appreciative at all. “But therapy isn’t going to fix my grief.”
“There’s no fix—well, aside from time and being around people you love. But it would help you deal with the pain. And maybe you could talk to the therapist about whether your aversion to romance is because it reminds you of Amelia.”
He rubs his forehead, and I can tell that his measured breathing is deliberate. “Even if it does, Riley—and maybe you’re not wrong about that—it’s a moot point. You should be the first to know that it’s extremely likely we’ll have to close at the end of August. If you started looking for a new position, I wouldn’t blame you. In the meantime, you’re right: Youshould be allowed to make big decisions. Rearrange the store however you want. You can even move the Romance section to the front if that’s what you’d like to do.”
Instead of responding, Riley looks around Lakeside. Almost like she’s attempting to imagine what the space would be if it weren’t a bookstore.
Or maybe that’s just me. And try as I might, I can’t picture anything between these four walls besides books and the people who love them.
But what if thisisn’tthe place where Miguel can heal? Just like Riley needed to leave New York to get better, what if he needs to leave Lakeside and West Haven to find love?
I close my eyes, rest my head between my paws on the tile, and make a wish…
That moving on doesn’t have to mean lettinggo.
Nineteen
We don’t go to the store the following day, or the next. Instead, Miguel takes up residence in front of his computer. As far as I can tell, he’s poring over the same bills and accounts he’s seen a million times (though what do I know? In what strikes me as a true injustice, I cannot read). Regardless, I am almost certain that he’s avoiding Lakeside, probably because he doesn’t want to see what Riley has done with the place or be reminded of his own perceived failings.
Silly human.
Usually when it’s just the two of us, Miguel’s so worried about me that he anticipates my every need before I do. Which, to be honest, can be incredibly annoying sometimes, even if he means well. Now, however, it’s like I barely exist. This is nothing if not further evidence that he needs other people—because I’m sure not keeping him going. But not justanypeople. Why doesn’t he call Fiona, tell her he’s sad and lonely and that the only time in recent history that he really felt good was when she was around?
Unfortunately, I can’t dwell on it too much this morning, as I have an urgent need to empty my bladder. So, I whine at Miguel until he rises.
