“It’s only been a few months, Leah. Where is your life going?”
She shrugged, turning her gaze back to the water. “I don’t know. But I can’t wait to find out.”
When she left the hotel, Leah went straight home to hercouch. Telling Greg was one thing, but the reverberations that followed were another. “I know we broke things off months ago, but today feels so final,” she said, sinking onto the cushion next to Brad.
He wrapped an arm around her. “But it’s what you want, right?”
“It is. I just feel so… alone.”
“You’re not alone. You’re stuck with me.” Brad, still nursing his own hurts from his grandmother, looked to be staying with her until he went back to Boston. Which was too soon, as far as Leah was concerned.
“Summer is ending. You’ll be leaving soon, too,” she said. And then she started to cry. In large hiccupping cries, she gave in. It wasn’t about Greg, or Brad leaving, or even the uncertainty of the bookshop’s future when tourist season came to a close. It was that Leah had been going so hard for so long, and yet there was no sign of any of it getting any easier.
Brad held on as she cried, and didn’t even make a peep when she wiped her nose on the sleeve of his linen shirt.
“All I have is a shop,” she said, sniffling. “A stupid little shop full of books and trinkets and strange if wonderful people.”
“Can I tell you something?” Brad asked.
“It better not be that I owe you a new shirt. I can barely make payroll.”
Brad shook his head. “That stupid little shop is a pretty big deal, Leah.”
“It’s been so much work.”
“Yes, and think about what’s come out of that.”
“Blood, sweat, and tears?”
He shook his head. “It’s a place where people come to gather. To escape, to learn. It’s where I met Ethan. And when my vovó kicked me out, it’s where I had a safe place to land.”
“I know.” She wiped her nose. “It’s how I reconnected with Luke, too.”
“See? Fixing up that old house spun some magic.”
“Well, Luke gets credit for the fixing part. He’s been a good friend.”
“Leah, I think he’s more than that.”
She made a face.
“When he brought you home the other night, I saw the way he carried you upstairs and tucked you in,” Brad told her. “It wasn’t like a friend.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means he did it with care. He adjusted your covers just so, smoothed your hair on the pillow. It was actually very sweet.”
Other than being helped inside, Leah had little recollection of that part of the night. What she did recall was feeling safe. Now she knew why. “I didn’t know any of that.”
“Well, you do now. And you can thank your stupid little shop for that, too.”
She blew her nose and smiled. “It’s not that stupid.”
“No, it’s not. Even all the strange people who come in with tomatoes and dogs and their sticky kids. It’s its own little community. People aren’t going to let that go, now that they’re part of it.”
“Thank you,” she said. It was the nicest thing Brad had ever said.
“You’re welcome. Now, can we at least order food while we wallow? I’m starving.”
