The future of the bookshop.Meaning sell it.She was going to be sick.“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?I wouldn’t have done all this if I’d known it was pointless.”
Beatrice’s face hardened.“It’s not pointless.”
She whirled on her mother.“He and Hawk let me believe I was making something out of this place.That I was turning it into a successful business.”
The outburst caught everyone off guard, even her.Then anger came, hard and fast.At her father.At Hawk.
Heknew.
He knew and he hadn’t told her.He kept encouraging her.Even said hebelievedin her.All the while knowing it was a problem that couldn’t be solved.
The shelves and books that had once brought her so much comfort, so much joy… All that felt tainted now.
“I can’t believe I was so stupid,” she muttered, grabbing for her purse.It was time to leave.Go home, crawl into bed, and give into the bone-deep need to fall apart.
Her parents exchanged a look.
“Maybe your father is right.Maybe we do need to sell this place,” her mother finally said.The words came slowly.Carefully.Like they’d been spoken before in whispers, but never out loud.
Lilian stopped short.“Mom?”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.Her mother, who loved this bookshop more than anything, was thinking about selling it.Lilian didn’t think her heart could break any more, but the last fragile pieces crumbled anyway.
This was really happening.
This was the end.
Her mother reached for a drawer on the desk.It was one she usually kept locked.Lilian had assumed they’d lost the key years ago, but to her amazement, her mother pulled out an antique key from her pocket like it had always been there.She opened the creaky drawer and pulled out a bottle of champagne and three red Solo cups.
None of the items appeared aged.
“I don’t know if your father deserves this after what he did.But I understand his reasons, so here.”She handed him the champagne bottle.“Open this, won’t you, dear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Mom, you shouldn’t be drinking.”And especially not celebrating losing the bookstore.
“I’ve suffered enough this year, don’t you think?Let me indulge.Oh, by the way, this was in the drawer as well.”Her mother held up a sheet of paper.One Lilian couldn't fully make out until she was right next to her mother.And then she blinked at the small legal text, trying to comprehend what she was reading.
“What is it?”
“This is a little paper that says I, Beatrice Teresa Brody, am giving my business to my daughter, Lilian Joy Brody.”
“What?”Lilian stared at the paper in her mother’s hand.It was a wall of text, but slowly, words started to jump out at her.Bill of Sale.Beatrice Brody.Ten Cents Books,and finally her name with a blank signature line under it.
“If you want it, that is…” her mother said.
A loudpopechoed in the small space.Her brain short-circuiting, Lilian thought before realizing her father had opened the champagne bottle.
Words failed her.Her vision was going blurry.Maybe her brain had stopped working.She’d thought she’d cried all the tears in her body before today, but apparently not.Her voice wavered as she asked, “You're giving me the shop?”
“When you sign the form.”
“You'regivingme the shop?”
“You've more than earned it.This whole thing has taught me that I enjoy sitting back and reading in this space more than running it.But you… you love it.”
Her mother's small, skinny arms wrapped around her.And Lilian couldn’t keep it together anymore.She broke down, sobs shaking her body as she buried her face in her mother’s sleeve.
