“You’re telling me? I’m the only one here who’s been on both sides of it!”
“Oakley, you’ve been a Kalama since you were ababy. I didn’t actually get adopted until I was eighteen.”
“So that plus the hearing loss…” Anne trailed off.
Laurie felt a flare of frustration, because it felt like a total non sequitur. But Anne was just trying to help, and she waited a moment for her irritation to pass rather than replying in anger.
She picked up a copy ofPride and Prejudiceand set it on a high shelf.
“Maybe I would have felt that way regardless,” she mused. “Maybe it’s just my personality. I’m the Mary Bennet of the family.”
Oakley stepped into her field of vision and signed,You’re obviously J-A-N-E.
Laurie laughed.No way!
“You’re the most beautiful,” Oakley said and signed. “The quietest. Arguably the nicest… most of the time. So that makes you Jane.”
“Too bad I didn’t get my Bingley.”
“Yeah, well… neither did Austen. I’m not convinced that men like that exist in real life.”
“What about Noah?” Laurie teased, looking at Anne.
Oakley grinned. “I guess Anne’s our Jane.”
“No way! If I’m any of them, I’m Elizabeth.”
“You’re right,” Laurie said. “You’re too fiery to be Jane.”
“She scared her man off, just like Lizzie,” Oakley agreed.
“Only my story had a much longer timeline,” Anne said.
“Yeah, well, it’s not the year eighteen hundred,” said Oakley. “You’re not an old maid at twenty-seven.”
“Zoe’s twenty-seven,” Anne marveled.
“You know what that means, right?” Laurie asked.
What?her sisters signed in unison.
“We’re none of the sisters. We’re the same age as Mrs. Bennet.”
Oakley put a hand in front of her mouth.Shut up!
Laurie laughed and reached into the box for another book.
By the time they had unloaded all of the boxes of books that Oakley brought, they had made good progress towards filling the little bookshop. Oakley hadn’t been joking about her collection of children’s books being enough to stock that section of the shop; her contribution made for an impressive selection for kids under eight. The board books alone filled three big boxes.
“Are you sure you’re done with these?” Laurie asked.
“I always thought there might be more.” Oakley turned a book over in her hands with a look of naked longing, but then her expression took on the false brightness that she so often hid behind. “But I’m terrible at having babies, so here we are.”
“Do you ever think about fostering again?”
“I’d love to, but I’m pretty maxed out as it is. And Trent’s done. Like,donedone. So. No more babies for me.”
Anne reached for her hand. “You have two perfect girls.”
