“You think that’ll work?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But it’s got to work better than what you’re doing now.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you seem like a really good guy. Because, as I’m learning, those are really hard to find. And because, in spite of your moving speech about the search for truth through cinematography, I think there’s only one reason you wanted to make this movie: Joanie. You got a crush on her when you were seventeen and never recovered.”
He coughed out a laugh. “A crush? That I’ve supposedly been nursing for twenty years? Come on. You don’t seriously—”
Avery cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows, daring him to contradict her. He said nothing further.
“Just don’t tell Joanie I told you what to do, okay?”
“It’s our secret,” he promised.
“Good. Now, can you do me a favor? It’s hard to look for work when you’re carrying a grocery bag with a mermaid tail. Not a good first impression. Would you mind dropping this off at my place? Better yet, leave it with Joanie. It’s too expensive to leave sitting on the porch.”
“Sure,” Hal said, taking the paper bag from Avery’s hands. “No problem.”
“Thanks. Oh, and as long as you’re going over there, you might want to bring some cupcakes. Joanie loves desserts.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah.” She lifted herself onto her toes and kissed his cheek. “Don’t screw this up.”
Chapter 27
Avery left Cupcake Royale feeling much better than when she arrived. But after four hours of filling out applications, the closest thing she got to an offer was when the manager at Urban Outfitters said they might have some openings in July and to check back then.
If she was so tough, and resourceful, and interesting—all the things Hal said—then why didn’t anybody want to hire her? And why didn’t Owen want her? What was wrong with her anyway?
Feeling discouragement drop over her like a too-heavy blanket, Avery stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to conjure what Joanie might say if she was there.
Stop. Is whining going to help? No. It’s like Hal said, you’ve just got to find your niche. So, suck it up, Buttercup. Life is tough, but so are you.
She stood there for a moment, waiting, hoping this sound advice would take root and make her feel better. It didn’t.
“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him . . .”
As the words entered her mind, Avery’s face and chilled cheeks were suddenly bathed in warmth. With her eyes still closed, she saw bright spots of red, yellow, pink, and orange, like colors in a stained glass window. She opened her eyes, blinking, and found herself standing in bright sunlight that had broken through a hole in the cloudy, rainy, completely gray sky and was beaming directly down on her. The street sidewalk five feet in front and in back of where she stood remained in shadow.
“Well, that was impressive.”
Casting her gaze upward, she caught sight of a street sign almost directly above her head that said, BOYLSTON AVENUE.
Boylston was the home of Bayside Books, her very favorite Capitol Hill haunt. She hadn’t allowed herself to go into Bayside, or even walk down this street, for weeks, afraid she’d give in to the temptation to spend her dwindling funds on books. Looking up at the street sign, it occurred to her that the upside to having only three dollars and fifty-six cents to her name was that the temptation was now removed—she couldn’t buy a book if she wanted to. And browsing was free.
Five minutes later, Avery was standing in the nonfiction section, reading the opening chapter of an autobiography written by a woman who left behind a high-powered job to open an orphanage in Malawi.
A bookseller squatted down next to Avery and started placing books on the lower shelves, but she was so absorbed that she didn’t notice him. She read on to the end of the chapter and then reluctantly closed the cover and slid it back on the shelf.
The bookseller got up from the floor. “That’s a really good one,” he said.
“Seems like it.”
Avery sighed and turned away from the shelf, finally noticing him. He was about her age, perhaps a couple of years older, tall, a little on the skinny side, with a ginger blond beard and wavy hair that hung halfway to his shoulders.
“Excuse me, but . . . haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” He gave his head a quick shake and laughed. “Sorry. Oldest line in the world, right? But I mean it; you look so familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen you before.”
“I used to come here pretty often. But I haven’t been in for about a month.”
“No, it’s not that,” he said. “I’d have remembered. And I only started working here a couple of weeks ago. I’ve definitely seen you somewhere before.” He narrowed his eyes for a moment, examining her face, then snapped his fingers. “The hospital, right? You’re the mermaid. My nephew had an operation for a brain tumor.”
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry. Is he okay?”
“Doing fine now,” he assured her. “The tumor was benign. But that’s why I moved to Seattle. My sister’s husband is in the navy, so I came out to give Amy a hand during Cory’s surgery. I only planned to be out here a couple of weeks, but I liked it so much that I decided to stay. Lucky for me there was—
“Sorry,” he said, stopping himself in midsentence. “I didn’t mean to tell you the story of my life. Side effect of a Midwestern upbringing; we’re overly friendly.”
He gave her an awkward, sort of goofy grin. He wasn’t as handsome as Owen, but he was definitely cute, in a farm boy kind of way. She could imagine him playing the part of Huck Finn in the school play when he was little. Or out in the garden hoeing sweet corn in the summer . . .
No! Do not go there! Do. Not. So what if he came halfway across the country to help out his sister and nephew. That doesn’t mean anything. Owen seemed like a sweet guy, too, remember?
“Anyway,” he went on, “I saw you at the hospital one day when I was visiting Cory. You were reading the kids a story.”
“That’s just some volunteer work I do.”
“Well, you’re really good at it,” he said, bobbing his head. “Do you always go as a mermaid or do you have other characters?”
“Nope, I specialize in mermaids.”
Avery reached into her purse and handed him her business card.
“Funny, but you don’t run into a lot of professional mermaids in Minnesota, even part-time ones. Another reason to like Seattle,” he said, looking up with that same goofy grin and holding the card back out to her.
Avery hesitated for a moment, rehearsing in her head how it would sound if she casually said, “Oh, that’s okay. You can keep it.” Would he think she was just being friendly? Or obvious?
Obvious, she decided and took it back.
“Well, I hope you like it here.”
“Thanks. I do already.” He tilted his head toward the bookshelf she’d been perusing before. “You really should get that book. I finished it last week and could hardly put it down. Best biography I’ve read all year.”
“You read a lot of nonfiction?”
“I read a lot of everything. Lucky for me, I get a store discount. Couldn’t keep up with my habit otherwise. Seriously, you need to read that. Everybody should. Tell you what,” he said, pulling the book off the shelf and placing it in her hands, “take it home and give it a try. If you don’t like it, bring it back and I’ll refund your money.”
“Oh. Well . . . The thing is, I don’t have any money right now. Like none. I’m looking for work. But so far . . .”
Avery shoved the book back toward him and felt her face go crimson.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be so pushy. Professional hazard. When I get excited about a book I want everybody on the planet to read it. But you said you’re looking for a job? Have you applied here?”
“One. In the children’s department. It’s only part-time and doesn’t pay much. . . .”
“I don’t need much,” she said excitedly. “I’d love to work here! And the children’s department would be perfect. I love kids.”
“Great. Let me see if I can find you an application.”
He walked toward the front of the store to the information desk. Avery followed, feeling almost dazed by the way that this day, which had started out so badly, had taken a 180-degree turn to the good. She hoped. Putting in an application was only the first step. How many had she filled out in the last couple of weeks and not even gotten an interview, let alone been offered a job? Even so, remembering the way the sun had beamed down just on her when the Psalm popped into her head, she couldn’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe the sunbeam was a sign, a signal that things were finally going to get better.
Avery fidgeted nervously while he ducked his head under the counter and grubbed around before popping up and handing her an application. She filled it out while he went to the checkout counter to help some customers.
“Thank you so much,” she said when he returned, giving him a brief but grateful glance before taking up the pen again. “Really. I’ve been looking for a job forever. I was a babysitter for five years and I’ve got my mermaid business on the side, but I don’t have any serious retail experience. Well. I was a barista for a while. Two weeks. But I’m not putting that down because I got fired. The manager was kind of a jerk, no sense of humor. Sorry,” she said, still writing furiously. “I’m babbling. I’m just really excited! Working in a bookstore would basically be a dream job—I read three or four books a week. And they give you a discount?”
“Twenty percent off.”
“Wow. That’d be fantastic.” She giggled, giddy with excitement. “You know, this day started out so incredibly crappy. My boyfriend dumped me. Then I called my mom—always a mistake and if my sister finds out she’ll kill me. And I got to be the one who told my mom that my other sister was in a car accident and lost her memory—she’s fine now and it’s starting to come back. Then I had to calm her down and make her promise not to call either of my sisters. Or come up here. It was a mess. Plus, it was pouring rain. And I’m down to my last four bucks. Really, that’s the only reason I let myself come in here today. There was no risk of me overspending because I’m so broke that I can’t afford to buy a cupcake let alone a book.
“And then,” she said, head still down, adding Hal’s name and number to the references section because she was sure he wouldn’t mind, “when I was feeling so depressed I felt about ready to eat a bug, I was standing up there on the corner and I closed my eyes and said this . . . Well, it was kind of a prayer. Not exactly. But kind of. The thing is, I believe in God—I mean, look at the mountains, right? And the trees and the ocean. Do you know there are two thousand different species of starfish? Oh, sure. Evolution and everything. But still, two thousand kinds of starfish! They had to come from somewhere, right? And—” She stopped herself and blushed. “Sorry. I’m doing it again, aren’t I? I’m just pumped about this.”
She signed the application and handed it to him. “Thanks. I appreciate this.”
“No problem,” he said, reading over what she’d written. “So . . . Avery. Do you have time for an interview?”
“When? Oh, you mean now? Sure.” She craned her neck, looking around the store. “Is there a manager around?”
He thrust out his hand. “Adam Malinowski. Assistant Manager.”
Avery felt the rush of adrenaline and hope that had been pumping through her veins drain from her body.
“Oh, you’re kidding,” she said weakly. “You’re so young. And you said you just started . . . I didn’t . . . I had no . . .” She covered her face with one hand.
“Avery?” He waited for her to respond. He stepped closer and peered through the lattice of her fingers. “So, is this not a good time for an interview?”
Avery lowered her hand. “You’re serious? After the way I yammered on? And all the stuff I said? You really want to interview me?”
“The stuff you said is why I want to interview you.” He started ticking her comments off on his fingers. “I love books. I love kids. I don’t care that the pay isn’t great. I read three or four books a week. This is my dream job. I’m pumped about this.”
“It is! And I am!”
“Then you’re somebody I want to talk to. I do wish you had a little more retail experience, but enthusiasm is important. And you know how to run a register, right?” Avery bobbed her head. “Good.”
“You don’t care that I got fired from the barista job?”
“I won’t say I don’t care. But it depends on what happened. Let’s get a cup of coffee and you can tell me about it.”
* * *
Bayside Books didn’t have a full-service café, but sandwiched between the fiction and reference sections was an area with a half-dozen tables and chairs and a pine sideboard painted French blue that held urns for coffee and hot water for tea.
Avery and Adam sat there for about twenty minutes, discussing the job and her past work experience. Avery was nervous, especially when he started to frown while she was explaining the whole Mystery Mocha debacle.
“I know. It was stupid,” she said, thinking how very true this was after having heard herself tell the story aloud. “I completely get that now, but . . .”
Her voice trailed off. What was the point of trying to explain? It was stupid. She was stupid. Mystery Mochas. Who does that?
“Yeah,” he said slowly, staring at a spot past her shoulder.
Avery felt her heart sink. She’d blown her chance. No way was he giving her this job. He was just trying to think of a nice way to tell her that.
“That probably wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had,” he said. “Well, not the idea itself—it actually sounds pretty cool. Might have been a good way to drum up some business on a slow afternoon. But you should have checked with your manager first.
“Bookselling is tough. My parents owned a bookstore in St. Paul. I practically grew up in the business, so I know what I’m talking about. We need all the creative ideas we can get. Just talk to me before you put them into practice, okay?”
Adam looked down, scanning some papers he’d brought to the table.
“Now, about the hours—twenty a week to start. You’ll have to work a full shift on either Saturday or Sunday. As I said, the pay isn’t great, but—”
Avery raised her hand like a first grader asking permission to go to the restroom.
“Wait. So . . . you’re offering me the job?”
“Yes, if you want it.”
“I do! Absolutely!”
“Great. You can start Monday morning. Just one thing,” he said, his suddenly serious expression bringing a little knot of anxiety to Avery’s stomach. “And I hope this won’t be a problem for you. But we have a strict dress code. No fins. No scales.”
He was trying to make a joke and she got that. But his comment made her think.
“Okay. But what if it was in the line of duty? What about a Saturday story hour? With costumed characters? I could start with the mermaid, but there’s no reason I couldn’t do other characters.”
Adam laughed and got to his feet.
“See you on Monday.”
Avery hopped up from the table. “Right! Yes. See you then!”
“Avery? For the record,” he said before walking away, “you’re going to be really, really good at this.”
Chapter 28
Though she spotted the bag from Cupcake Royale right off, this did nothing to lessen Joanie’s irritation when she answered the door and found Hal on the other side. “Why are you here? I’m supposed to have the day off, remember?”
She was purposely rude. Hal and his crew had invaded her privacy for nine days out of the last ten. Plus, he still owed her fifteen thousand dollars.
; Joanie’s phone rang before he could respond. By the time she hung up and went back to the door, her expression and attitude had softened. “That was Avery. She got a job at the bookstore.”
His face split into a grin. “She did? That’s great! Good for her.”
“Whatever it was you said to her this morning really did the trick. Thanks.”
“It was all her,” he said even as he ducked his head to acknowledge Joanie’s appreciation. “She just needed a pep talk. She asked me to drop off her stuff with you,” he said, lifting the grocery bag that held Avery’s mermaid tail. “I was hoping we could talk. Do you mind if I come in?”
“Where’s your crew?”
“Over at Asher’s job site, packing up their gear. I sent them home a couple of weeks early.”
“What do you mean? They won’t be back?”
“Not for a while. Maybe not at all. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I was thinking it might be best to take a break from the cameras, take some time to get to know each other and then see where we stand in, say, three weeks? If you’re not more enthusiastic about the project by then, then it might be better for everybody if we just called it off.”
Joanie made her eyes into slits. What was he up to? He’d bet his business on making this movie. She couldn’t imagine him “just calling it off.”
“It’s not a trick,” Hal said, as if reading her mind. “I know how much you hate all this. I honestly thought I could get you to come around, make you comfortable enough with the process so you’d actually enjoy telling your story, maybe even find some relief in it. You’d never have agreed to it if you didn’t need the money, but if that’s your only motivation, this is never going to work—not for you or me.
“So, I’d like to take a new approach for a couple of weeks—just you and me talking, like people do. If we get to the end of it and you’re still not ready to talk on camera then, fine. I’ll go back to LA and you’ll go on with your life. No hard feelings. What do you say?”
Joanie relaxed her tense expression. She figured it out. She knew what this was all about.
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