Eudora
Eudora could not believe she’d missed the opening day for Leah Powell’s new bookstore. After all, she was the one who sent Luke Nickerson to help that poor girl to begin with. As it turned out, Leah had not recognized her the day she showed up and poked her head in the door, but that was perfectly fine with Eudora—better, even. She didn’t want to get into any discussion about their old high school, where Eudora had been a guidance counselor. Not after what happened with Shelby Smalls and Eudora’s swift retirement thereafter. Shelby had been sent to Eudora for help, but despite her due diligence Eudora had not uncovered what was going on with the poor girl. It did not seem to be anything at home. They could not pinpoint anything at school. What Eudora did was invite her in to her office every week for lunch. It didn’t matter that she mostly doodled or sketched the entirety of those lunches. Eudora was happy to talk. Eventually, her patience paid off and it was Eudora’s chance to listen. Shelby talked about her golden retriever at home. About her hope to goto art school. Once she mentioned a boy she had a crush on. For a brief while Eudora felt that Shelby seemed lighter and more relaxed, that perhaps Eudora was making a difference.
Shelby began showing up unannounced. Sometimes she just poked her head in to say hello. Sometimes she even shared a drawing she was working on in that notepad of hers. Never once, however, did Shelby give away the source of her suffering. It was another girl in her class, named Anna Meyer. Anna was the kind of bully that even the most tuned-in teacher might overlook. She was unremarkable academically and socially, an average student who blended into the backdrop of the high school hallways and classrooms with no overt signs of inappropriate behavior. That was because Anna Meyer conducted all of it online.
What later came to light was a smear campaign that would make Hollywood publicity firms shudder. All because Anna’s boyfriend had taken a liking to shy, quiet Shelby one evening at a party. The resulting cyberbullying involved rumors, social media attacks, and manipulated photos of a pornographic nature that circulated the phones and communications of just about every student at the high school. Right beneath Eudora’s and the administration’s noses, Shelby Smalls was tormented for months. Until one morning when her mother found her lying in the bathroom beside an empty bottle of pills.
Though the ambulance got her to the ER in time, where Shelby was intubated and put on a ventilator, she never returned to school. Afterward, she was transferred to a psychiatric facility, and much later, her family moved quickly and quietly out of the area, leaving only the lawsuits they filed in their wake.
It didn’t matter that Eudora was not found to be liable in any way. She felt the guilt in her veins. It haunted her in her sleep. Each day she went to school and passed Shelby’s locker, Eudora felt a panic grip her chest. Shelby had trusted her. She was the one person the young woman had turned to. And Eudora had failed her. There was nothing she could do but quit.
While Eudora had long suffered the tourist-filled summers in Chatham, since her departure from the high school she now took comfort in them on the rare occasion she left the house. It was easier to be among strangers. Eudora could get lost in the crowds, just another face in line at the market or the pharmacy. None of the tourists recognized her as the counselor who testified in the cyberbullying trial that made all the local and Boston news that fateful summer.
Yesterday, however, she’d felt pulled to the bookstore opening. She’d even marked the date on her calendar in red marker. Something about this new shop in the old captain’s house had captured a little piece of her heart. For the first time in a long time, Eudora felt reconnected to her little community. When it came time to go, however, there was her anxiety waiting for her at the front door. It had turned into a full-blown panic attack that caused her to take to her bed for the rest of the day.
Today was a new day. She would not allow her anxiety to keep her home again. Alfred danced about her feet when she dangled his leash.
Twenty minutes later, (because Alfred had to sniff every telephone pole, mailbox, and shrub) they climbed the bookstore’s front steps. She was tickled to see they’d been shorn up andfreshly painted. That Luke: she’d known he would take the job. It wasn’t easy to turn down someone you grew up with in a small town.
To her delight, the front door was painted a lovely coastal blue. Eudora pushed it open, met instantly by a feast for the senses. Everywhere she turned the bright covers of book jackets faced her, from tabletops and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and artfully arranged stacks on little curio tables. It was like drifting into a book lover’s paradise and someone’s cozy coastal living room, all at the same time. Eudora stood in the doorway with Alfred, completely forgetting the bouquet of dahlias she’d picked from her front garden and tied with a raffia bow that morning.
All throughout the lovingly appointed space were people: people reading in armchairs, people gazing up at shelves, people scrutinizing the backs of paperbacks or picking through baskets of vintage wallpaper bookmarks with tiny seashells strung to their tops with silk ribbon (how clever!). It was not crowded, but satisfyingly busy, and what Eudora loved most was that everyone was so focused on their browsing that the only sound was the tinkle of soft music and the occasional murmur of satisfaction when a reader met a good title.
“Welcome!” A young man in a pink button-down sailed out from behind the antique sideboard she was pleased to see was being used as a checkout counter. “My name is Brad. What beautiful flowers!”
Friendly, not pushy, she decided. Eudora smiled appreciatively back at him. “These are for the owner,” she said, holdingout the flowers. A low rumble at the end of her leash reminded her; she’d nearly forgotten all about Alfred! “Oh dear. Is it alright if he comes in?”
Brad looked adoringly at Alfred who showed one tiny white tooth in return, then stepped back. “Our contractor’s dog comes in all the time.”
Ah! “Yes, you must mean Luke.”
“You know him?” Brad leaned in. He wanted details, she could tell.
“Small town.” She would not take credit for sending him over.
“You must be local.” He winked, conspiratorially. “We have to stick together.”
“You live in town, too?” She tried to hide the fact it gave her a start. Eudora did not recognize him from high school, but from the looks of him he would’ve graduated about the time she retired.
“My grandmother does. I visit her every summer.” He glanced about the shop. “Let me find Leah for you.”
While she waited, Eudora looked around. Whatever coffee they were serving smelled divine, and she had to stop herself from getting a cup. She’d had her fill that day; too much caffeine had led to some rather unpleasant online interactions with people looking to unload their dogs. Alas.
Leah Powell came out of a rear door and headed for Eudora, a light of recognition on her face. “I owe you a tremendous thank you!” she said, happily. “I have to admit, Luke came by before I called him, but you were right. We needed help.” She looked about the store. “I never would have opened without him.”
Eudora realized Leah only recognized her from the day she’d poked her head in the door. She extended the flowers. “Congratulations on the shop!”
“Thank you! These are just stunning,” Leah said, with far more gratitude than Eudora expected. Yes, her garden was lovely, but they were just a handful of dahlias. She watched as Leah swiped at the corner of her eye. Was she crying?
“It’s been a roller coaster,” Leah admitted. “On opening day, at first no one showed up. But now word is getting out, and everyone has been so appreciative.”
Eudora needed to introduce herself properly. “I’m not sure you remember me,” she said, “but I used to be a guidance counselor at your old high school.”
Leah cocked her head, eyes narrowing. “Mrs. Shipman? Gosh, I’m sorry! I thought you looked familiar the first time you came in.”
“I take it Luke didn’t tell you?”
She smiled knowingly. “He seems good at keeping secrets.”
