“I guess not,” I admit. “So that means people here care about books.”
“Enough of them,” she agrees. “So you’ll get plenty of people coming in to check out your shop. And if you have the right stock, set up comfortably, I think you can do really well. The lady before was super nice. But she was kind of phoning it in. I doubt she made any money.”
“That’s my aunt,” I laugh. “And yes, it was a hobby for her more than anything. I’m going to have some work to do if I want to make it back into a real store.”
“I’d love to see that happen,” Taffy says, and she sounds sincere.
Both librarians have been really supportive.
“I appreciate that. I know I’m kind of the competition,” I venture softly.
“Not at all,” Taffy says, sounding surprised. “TV is the competition. And we’re in the trenches together trying to save the world from it.”
“Wow,” I say.
“Listen,” she tells me. “We can’t afford to stock more than a copy or two of the most popular titles. If you’ve got them at your shop and that shortens our waitlists here, then it makes the library feel more like it’s working for them.”
“I never thought about it like that,” I admit. “I’mhappy to advertise your programs at the shop too, if that helps.”
“It does,” Taffy says, her pink ponytails sliding over her shoulders as she nods. “Some of our funding is based on visitor counts, not just circulation, so every time someone walks in the doors it helps us. And of course, if they start coming more often, maybe they’ll value what we have to offer, and support us when it’s time for the town budget meetings.”
“Sounds like we can help each other,” I say, nodding.
“Definitely,” she tells me, then points to a mostly empty shelf. “You see how we are with seasonal books for the little guys. I can’t keep them on the shelf. We’ve had to start a two-book policy for those.”
“I’ll make sure to get plenty of seasonal stuff for little guys,” I tell her. “I’m also thinking about trying to have some programming for teens. What are they reading?”
“Well,” Taffy says, leaning in conspiratorially. “That’s all really different this year.”
“Really?” I ask.
“There’s a new school here,” she says. “It’s a boarding school for super-smart kids. They do a lot of math and science up there. When the kids come into town for a day trip, they clean me out, but they mostly want hard sci-fi and high fantasy. I’m used to recommending books to kids, but these guys are mostly recommending series to me.”
“Amazing,” I reply.
“Give me your phone,” Taffy says. “I’ll message you a list after my next reading group.”
I hand over my phone and she taps on it furiously as the sound of little kids wafts down the stacks toward us.
“Thank you,” I tell her when she hands it back. “If you’re ever free for coffee, let me know.”
“Sure,” she tells me. “But I don’t like coffee. We can get ice cream.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I laugh.
But she’s already bent to catch a sprinting toddler in her arms.
“Miss Taffy,”the little girl sings out.
I hurry out of the way as the rest of the people come in, thinking to myself that I really like Taffy. She might be dressed like a cartoon character, but she’s dead-serious about her job.
I wait for a pang in my chest, reminding me how much I cared about my old job, but it’s soft when it comes.
I guess I’m starting to really get into the idea of running this bookshop.
“Here you go,” Maureen calls to me from the desk as I’m headed out.
“Oh, thank you,” I say, jogging back over to her.
