Page 88 of Child of Mine

“I’m not sad. I’m mad.”

“That’s understandable.”

“I don’t want the yarn lady here. This is our bookstore.”

“I get that. Sometimes, though, when things change in ways you don’t like, something even better happens.”

“Like what?”

“Well, that’s the tricky part. Usually, you don’t know what that thing is until you get to it—and getting there can be scary or make you angry or sad. But that’s when I like to make a plan because then I have things I can at least try out.”

I’m not sure if this is the right way to talk to an almost six-year-old, but it’s the best I’ve got.

She takes a green marker from the mug and flips it in the air a few times.

“So… if you could give these books to anyone,” I ask, “who would that be?”

“But I don’t want to give them to anyone.”

My eyes scan the shop as I wonder how on earth I’ll ever get her to shift her thinking. When the antique cash register catches my eye, it gives me an idea. “Do you get upset when someone buys a book that you love?”

“No, because Grandma orders another one.”

“Hmm. But what if you could give books to some kids who don’t have any books at home?”

“What kids are those?”

“Unfortunately, there are a lot of people who don’t have a lot of books in their houses.”

“Why not?” Her expression is so full of horror that I have to stifle a laugh.

“Well, maybe they don’t have room. Or they don’t have enough money to buy books.”

“That’s terrible.”

“I know.”

She frowns, probably trying to picture what a house without books would even look like. “But if we gave them books, they couldn’t keep them anyway if they don’t have room.”

“Do you ever go to the library?”

She shakes her head.

“Well, anybody can borrow a book from the library. Then they keep it at home for a couple of weeks, before bringing it back so someone else can read it. That way they can read lots of books, but they won’t take up too much space in their house.”

She picks up a book. “So, if we gave these books to the library, then kids who don’t have books at home could read them?”

I nod, hoping that my mom’s offer to buy up the children’s section is still good.

She stands up. “Let’s do that.”

“Right now?”

She nods.

“Oh, uh”—I check my watch—“I don’t know if it’s still open, but we could try. Why don’t we call?”

Lilah helps me find the phone book behind the counter, and we search the blue pages for the Newton library. When I call, I get a recording that gives me the library’s hours. “They’re closed. But they are open on Saturday. What do you say we go this Saturday morning and bring some books with us?”

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