“Why would they take that money from you instead of sending it to the bookstore?” Fiona says, aghast.
“They’re not nice people. Never have been—they were terrible to Amelia when she was a child and weren’t much better once she was older. They didn’t like me, and they hated that she wrote romance. They thought her books were trashy.”
“For heaven’s sake. They’re love stories,” says Fiona, shaking her head. Then she reaches out and touches his arm. “Ican tell how important the store is to you. Tell me again why you won’t accept my check?”
“Honestly? As much as I’m glad you decided to come, this isn’t your mistake to fix.”
“I want to, though,” she insists. “Jon will reimburse me.”
He looks down at the blanket before meeting her gaze again. “I’m going to be honest with you, Fiona—I don’t know if your brother showing up would’ve saved us. He probably would have bought us more time, though. I’m not much of a people person, and lately, I can’t even say whether I really want to run a bookstore anymore. But I do care about my staff, and Amelia’s legacy.”
“I understand that, which is why I’m still working out how to make this right,” she tells him.
Before Miguel can respond, Amelia Mae interjects. “Does that mean you’re going to go on another date before we leave?” she asks, her eyes wide with excitement. “Because that would be getting it right.”
“It’s not a date,” say Fiona and Miguel at the same time. They look at each other and laugh nervously.
“Besides, love, we’re leaving tomorrow morning,” Fiona reminds her.
Already? Date or no date, they haven’t spent enough time together to realize that they simplymustmake a habit of each other’s company.
But Amelia Mae grins mischievously at me, and that’s when I realize:Imay not know how to accomplish my mission, but something tells me she can figure it out.
Twenty-Four
Humans do all sorts of things that will never make sense to me. For example, why are they so preoccupied with whether anything’s coming out of their noses? Why do they make important life decisions based on pieces of paper with dead people on them? And don’t get me started on how eager they are to see one another’s hairless bodies, yet they insist on wearing clothing all day.
But the way they can’t stop saying the name of the person they’re smitten with:ThatI understand, as nothing made me happier than when my Amelia said my name. And, of course, Miguel was so enamored with her that he used both of hers.
So, when his face brightens the next morning when he tells Dane about his picnic with Fiona, I know—I justknow—that she is taking up space in his mind in the exact way I’ve been hoping she would. Still, I’m not prepared when Fiona appears at the bookstore a little while later with Amelia Mae, and he leans in and kisses her cheek. It’s not a mouth kiss, but I’ll confess: There’s a tiny part of me that feels sad. Because if I could have anything I wanted, Fiona would be my Amelia,who would be alive, and my mission would be to love her—not replace her.
But a duty is not up for debate, and who am I to judge when he finally seems, well, nearly normal again?
Behind the register, Dane’s making googly eyes at Riley, who’s pretending to straighten up the magazine racks as she tries not to laugh. Then they’re in on this, too. Excellent.
“We get the official tour before we leave?” says Fiona, directing her dazzling smile at Miguel.
“Absolutely—I apologize for not doing that when you were in the other day.”
“No apology needed,” she tells him.
“Well,I’vealready seen the whole store,” says Amelia Mae. “I’m going to go sit in the reading nook, then maybe peruse Stabby Peeps again while I still can. You kids go on without me.”
Fiona laughs, but she smells a little anxious, too—and finally, it’s not on account of me. I decide to trail after them to keep watch.
“Ooh, you moved Romance to the front of the store?” she says to Miguel as they pause in front of the shelves Riley and Dane just finished setting up. “That’s a rare and welcome sight.”
“It was Riley’s idea,” he tells her. He keeps walking until he realizes Fiona’s paused and is browsing the titles. He frowns. “I didn’t take you for a romance reader.”
She plucks a paperback from the shelves. “I read all kinds of stories,” she says, her eyes running over the words on the cover. She returns the book to its spot, then looks at him and smiles. “And who doesn’t like love?”
I almost expect him to balk, given how he responded toRiley after she suggested the change. But he just touches Fiona’s back lightly and smiles, and then her expression morphs from sunny to a full solar flare. She likes him, too—a whole lot, especially the way he responds to her, the way he sees her. I couldn’t be more pleased if he’d just given me a whole roast chicken with a donut on top.
“Remind me, how many people were you expecting for Jon’s event?”
“More than a hundred.” She whistles, which makes him laugh. “People came in from all over the area. About twenty-five of those were VIP tickets—they paid extra to meet with Jon after his talk.”
“You have capacity for that many?” she asks, glancing around.
