by H L Bur
Books, Bludgeoning, & Beyond
by
H.L. Bur.
Published by H.L. Bur P.O. Box 73, Douglas City, CA. 96024.
www.heatherbur.com
© 2018. H.L. Bur
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission.
For permissions contact: [email protected]
Book Cover Design by ebookcover.com
Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9980493-0-4
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is dedicated to my grandparents, Claude and Grace. One of my most cherished childhood memories is reading nursery rhymes with them after Kindergarten, and I credit them for my early love of books. If my grandfather read this book, he would hand me $5 and tell me to go get myself a hamburger. If my grandmother read this book, she would tell me I was a little pill. Thankfully, she is nothing like the Grace you are about to meet in this book. If the only thing that came from this venture was knowing that they were proud of me, that would be enough for me.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
About the Author
Over in the meadow,
In the sand, in the sun,
Lived an old mother toad
And her little toadie one.
“Wink!” said the mother;
“I wink,” said the one:
So she winked and she blinked
In the sand, in the sun
-Olive A. Wadsworth
Chapter One
Ξ
I’ve always been a people pleaser.
What? I have!
Okay, just because I’ve never generally liked people and just because I was about two bad decisions away from being a creepy cat lady didn’t mean I went around looking for trouble. I swear trouble just seemed to find me!
I’ve never been one for confrontation, so I tended to sacrifice my own sanity in order to keep everyone else happy. Unfortunately, that had caused me to become quite resentful at my ripe age of twenty-eight.
My name is Cadence Kline. Everyone calls me Cady, or Cade for short. My cousin, Quinn, and I now owned the only bookstore in Riverton, our small ‘Up North’ Michigan town. Taking over Gigi’s Books had actually gone quite well for us, as far as business ventures were concerned. After several failed relationships, I had finally sworn off men and was able to focus all of my attention on making improvements to the bookstore. I was headed there to work on some inventory that I wanted to get done before the rush of the upcoming weekend. It was the kickoff of Autumn Fest, which also happened to be my birthday weekend, so I wanted to get all of my work done so I could enjoy my last birthday in my twenties!
Before owning the bookstore, I had been an ER nurse and Quinn was a teacher, until I realized I didn’t really like people and Quinn realized she didn’t really like kids, that is. I had even tried several side ventures to find my niche, including selling knitted blankets. Did I mention that I didn’t know how to knit? Nothing I did ever felt quite right, so when our grandmother’s health declined, I high-tailed it back to Riverton to help out (that nursing degree came in handy after all!). Working part time as a nurse while trying to figure out how to run a business and taking care of a feisty grandmother had been a very stressful time for me. It had now been two years since Quinn and I moved in with our grandmother, Gigi, and took over our grandparents’ bookstore. It wasn’t the worst thing being roommates with your grandmother in your late twenties, right?
I made a left off of Main Street, passed our parking lot and parked on the small side road behind the bookstore. I got out of my car as a pickup truck pulled out of our parking lot. I immediately recognized the truck and inwardly rolled my eyes. I walked up the brick sidewalk toward the back entrance of the shop. It was a warm, bright autumn day. Fall had always been my favorite time of year. It had been unseasonably warm this year and the bright sun shining on my face felt nice as I made my way up to the store. Large maple trees lined the walk, their leaves slowly turning bright orange and deep crimson as September drew to a close. When I opened the back door of the bookstore, the scent of old pages and brewing coffee instantly flooded my senses. Mmm, two of my all-time favorite smells, although freshly cut grass topped the list.
“Cady, is that you?” Quinn yelled from the front of the store.
I walked up the short hall, my shoes clicking on the floor as I walked. One of my favorite paintings hung on the wall of our back office and I always glanced at it as I walked by. The way the young couple was walking up the path in the rain under their red umbrella always captivated me. I walked past the rows of books and past the front counter. Quinn was sitting on a stool behind the reclaimed barn wood counter as I headed to the café section of our shop.
“Hey, Quinn! What’s up?” I asked as I stopped to pour us both a cup of coffee.
“Oh my God, you are not going to believe this! You will never guess what just happened!” She rushed over, practically jumping up and down as she grabbed her coffee mug out of my hand, her blonde ponytail bouncing up and down with her.
“Um, okay let me guess…Brent was just here?” I teased.
“Shut up! How did you know?” she asked, her mouth dropping open in surprise. Brent Rogers was Quinn’s old high school boyfriend, and no matter what she said, she was absolutely not over him. Like, not even a little bit. And I mean sure, he might be tall, dark, and handsome, but as far as I was concerned, he was a huge jerk.
“Duh…I know everything! Kidding! I just saw him driving out of the back lot when I pulled up. What could he have possibly wanted? Don’t tell me he suddenly learned how to read?” I asked in mock astonishment.
“Oh Cady, don’t be such a bitch. I know it goes against your nature and all, but seriously.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Whatever, you’re just as bad as me and you know it! So really, what did Brent want? I thought you guys hadn’t spoken in months,” I joined her behind the counter and pulled up a stool.
“I know, right? He asked if I could help him track down this old manuscript he’s been looking for. It has something to do with a historical milling project that was done in the area during the logging times. He said he was just doing some research…I don’t know, but that’s not the point! After I told him I would try to track it down for him, he asked me if I would to go to dinner with him tonight!” She just about squealed with delight.
“Oh boy, here we go.” I shook my head. “Please tell me you said no!”
“Um, are you insane? Of course I didn’t say no.”
“Quinn,” I groaned, “how many times are you going to let him break your heart?�
�
“Don’t be silly…there is no heart involved. I could just really use some action.” She sipped her coffee as she shrugged her shoulders at me.
“Well okay then.” I arched my eyebrows. “Who am I to get in the way of a good time? Just please, please, please be careful and don’t get hurt. My waistline can’t afford any more sympathy ice cream if you get all sad again. And whatever you do, do not let Gigi know you’re out with Brent. I absolutely refuse to listen to her earful the whole time you’re gone. It’s bad enough I’ll have to listen to her shout out wrong answers to Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy! without you tonight.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.” She laughed as she set her coffee mug down on the counter next to the cash register and plopped back down on her cushioned stool. “Sometimes you just gotta take one for the team, Cade.”
“Yeah, well how come lately it feels like I’m always the one taking one for the team when it comes to her?” I grumbled as I got up and headed to the back office to do my inventory. I could smell the sweet cream and sugar I had added to my coffee as I walked to the back of the store and it instantly relaxed me.
When Quinn and I took over the bookstore, it was in desperate need of a makeover. We ripped out the old hunter green carpet and replaced it with dark Pergo flooring. You know, the kind that looks like hardwood but is actually laminate. Hey, we weren’t made of money! We also redid the front counter in the reclaimed barn wood and added a stone countertop. We repainted the interior from that horrendous 80’s peachy pink color to a soft neutral grey called Dorian Grey. It seemed fitting. We had cleared an area toward the front of the store and had a small kitchen installed for the café. We arranged a large comfy sofa and a few oversized lounge chairs set up near the large bay window in front and named it the Recluse Café and we sold coffee drinks and bakery items all with literary-inspired names. For example, we offered Chaucer’s Chocolate Croissants and Cabot’s Caramel Latte, Cassandra E’Clares, and DeLeon’s Double Espresso. Cheesy? Yes, but who doesn’t like cheesy deep down? Speaking of cheesy, you could also get a Gabaldon’s Grilled Cheese…just saying! We picked up the baked goods fresh each morning from For Flours On End, the bakery down the street.
I was sitting at our ancient oak desk in my cushy black computer chair - the kind that you can spin in when you’re bored - working on our inventory list. We were still in the process of converting Grandpa and Gigi’s old filing system to our new updated digital system and it was tedious work. I took a break and leaned back in the comfy chair and rested my arms on the armrests, gazing at the artwork on the walls. I sometimes got lost in that red umbrella of my favorite painting. I glanced at the old wooden mantel clock that was perched on top of a tall black filing cabinet. It kind of reminded me of Cogsworth, the clock in Beauty and the Beast. As I was thinking about how long that old clock had been ticking - probably since Gigi was little - Quinn popped around the corner.
“Hey, what do you want to do for lunch today?” she asked. “I’m starving!”
“I don’t know, what sounds good to you?” I countered.
“I don’t care, anything sounds good to me.”
“Well, I don’t care, you pick.”
Okay, seriously this could go on for hours. We were both horrible at making decisions when it came to important things in life like food. We finally settled on ordering takeout from the Mexican place around the corner. I could eat Mexican food every day for eternity. I’m not kidding. Yeah, I’m that obsessed. Chicken enchiladas with homemade tortillas smothered in tangy red sauce with melted cheese on top. Rice. Beans. Tortilla chips. Sour cream. Guac.
“Cady? Helloooo, Earth to Cady! Snap out of it.”
I suddenly realized Quinn was shaking my shoulders.
“Oh, um…sorry, I was just thinking about our lunch.” I wiped the corner of my mouth where a little pool of drool was forming.
“My God, you are ridiculous.”
“What? I’m literally starving to death!”
She shook her head as she walked away to place our order. I decided I wasn’t going to get any more work accomplished in this state of famine, so I followed her back out to the front of the store.
I busied myself cleaning up the café and dusted off the coffee table, arranging the magazines in perfectly aligned order. I’ve always had a thing with rearranging furniture, so I pushed the sofa underneath the bay window so it now faced the bookshelves and pulled the two oversized lounge chairs to flank either side of the coffee table facing the window. I glanced at Quinn and saw her staring at me with thin, pressed lips in a look of annoyance. I ignored her demeaning glare and continued about my business. I was well aware that I had just rearranged the furniture last week and I didn’t need to hear her snide remarks. About ten minutes had passed when the front door chime went off.
I looked up as Sam, the delivery girl, came in to drop off our food. Sam Marek was a sophomore in high school this year and she worked two other jobs, played basketball and soccer, and also helped us out in the store on occasion. She was also wicked smart and nerdy, in the coolest way possible. That girl definitely had her head on straight.
“Hey, kiddo!” I greeted her.
“Hey, guys.” She smiled as she handed me our takeout order.
“Half day of school today?” Quinn questioned, glancing at the clock.
“No, but if we maintain a certain GPA we’re allowed to participate in the work release programs.”
“Well I have no doubt you would qualify for that, Miss Smarty Pants.” I beamed.
“Oh, it’s really not that big of deal, a lot of kids are doing it.” She waved me off.
Quinn and I had both unofficially taken Sam under our wings and tried to look out for her. She hadn’t had the easiest life. Her mom died when she was just a little girl and her father, Kyle, had raised her alone. Don’t get me wrong - Kyle obviously did a great job - but we both liked to give her some womanly guidance every now and again. Not to mention Quinn totally had a crush on Sam’s dad, even if she refused to admit it.
After Sam left, we went and sat in the café to eat our lunch. My cat, Henri (short for Henrietta), was our unofficial bookstore mascot. She sauntered up and head-butted my leg. Henri tolerated people she knew, but hated strangers and had a general rule to keep at least an arms length distance from anyone who looked at her like they might want to pet her. With Henri, you waited for her to come to you. And, if possible you avoided eye contact at all cost. I gave her a quick chin scratch and she slowly made her way over to her perch in the bay window, huge fluffy black tail sticking straight up in the air the whole way.
I quickly inhaled my food and then leaned back on the lounge chair, stuffed to the brim. I felt like the button of my jeans needed to come undone to give me a little breathing room.
“Okay, I suppose it’s back to work time.” I sighed.
“Yeah, I just got a shipment in that I need to get out on the shelves and I have to do some research to try to locate a copy of that manuscript that Brent wanted. If I find it, I can get it priority mailed and then I’ll have it by Friday and can use that as an excuse to see him again,” Quinn said.
“Woah, calm down, killer. I thought this was just about getting some action?” I reminded her.
“It is! But Friday night is the kickoff of Autumn Fest and I know that Joy Rhodes will be at the Town Center, and I want to see the look on her face when I show up with Brent.”
Oh boy. This couldn’t end well. Joy was one of the ‘mean girls’ in our high school and thrived on making other people feel small and insignificant. For some reason she had had it out for Quinn and me since the fifth grade. She was the epitome of a bully in every sense of the word. Joy was one of those people who could turn on and off her charm at the drop of a hat, depending on who was present and her mood at that moment. She also happened to be Quinn’s arch nemesis and had stolen Brent away from her just after we graduated for the apparent sole purpose of flaunting it in Quinn’s face. She had suddenly star
ted showing up at Quinn and my favorite hangout spots attached to Brent’s arm, hanging all over him and making elaborate public displays of affection right in front of Quinn. Quinn had essentially declared war on her ever since. I mean don’t get me wrong, Joy has always been horrid and pure evil in every way imaginable, but at some point I was hoping their whole feud would die down. Wishful thinking, I suppose.
I lay down on the light grey sofa and stuffed one of the cerulean blue throw pillows under my head as the carb load kicked in. I was rethinking my earlier idea of getting back to work as I sank into the comfy sofa.
“Okay, well don’t make a spectacle of yourself. You know I can’t stand her either, but what she did was a long time ago…maybe she’s changed? Besides, it’s not going to be good for business if you decide to throw down in the middle of the Town Center. Well actually, on second thought, I guess it could be good for business in an everyone wants to come see the town crazy person sort of way,” I admitted as I stifled a yawn.
“That woman will never change and you know it,” she snapped, ignoring my last comment. “Just the other day she cornered me in the produce aisle of the grocery store to ask me how I’ve been and was acting so friendly. I knew something must be up because since when does Joy Rhodes care about how anyone is doing? The following day, I ran into my friend Bridget and she was telling me about how Joy was going around badmouthing our bookstore and saying how pathetic and sad it was that I, and I quote, ‘failed at teaching’. Why can’t she just leave me alone? She is seriously the worst.”
“Ugh, does she not have anything better to do with her time than torment other people? What would she know about running a bookstore, or working at all, for that matter? I’ll never understand how you could badmouth someone else’s profession when you’ve never had to work a day in your life. Anyway, have fun with that and all, but I’m just going to take a quick five here.” I closed my eyes.
“Cady, you are not napping on our customer’s sofa.” She peered over the arm of the sofa at me.