Page 105 of The Summer of Everything

“Good morning,” Mrs. Rossi croaks, lifting her head. She’s pale; her face is clean of any makeup. It amplifies the sadness in her brown eyes, the wrinkles at her mouth. Her right hand crosses over to grip the left. After a moment, the shakes subside. “It’s fine.”

Wes nods. They both know she’s lying.

The office chair squeaks loudly as she reclines. “You’re here early.”

“I wanted to—” His voice breaks. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“I was wondering when you were going to finally ask.”

“Ask?” Wes’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Mmhmm.” She brushes hair off her forehead, her hand shaking again. “I’ve known you for a lifetime, Wes. I knew it’d take you ages to come to me about what’s happening with this place. I’m sure it’s been eating you alive.”

“You knew I knew?”

Mrs. Rossi tuts. “Of course I did.” Her eyes close; her inhalations are long, and she exhales noisily. “You’re all a hot mess. You’ve been running around here, having events after hours and shuffling my store around, and doing everything under the sun to save it.”

“You knew?” Wes can’t control the volume in his voice.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I’m old, but I’m not naïve.” She snorts. “Hell, half the time, you forgot to rearrange the bookshelves to the right places.”

A tactical error. Wes shouldn’t have trusted Cooper and Zay with those tasks. But his eyes narrow, and he hisses, “Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you just let us—” He sucks in a loud breath. “You let us fight for this place while you just disappeared. What the hell?”

“Iletyou try to save this bookstore for many reasons,” Mrs. Rossi says firmly.

Wes allows the silence to surround them. Then, voice shaky, he says, “Why?”

She shuts her eyes again. “I should’ve told you. I should’ve told all of you, but,” she pauses, her throat bobbing. Wes waits. Nose wrinkled, she says, “Part of me wanted to believe that you could do it. Bring back the customers. Keep this place afloat just a little longer.”

Her hands grip the chair’s armrests. White knuckles. Blue veins. Age and wear and unsteadiness.

“That’s not fair of me. To expect so much of everyone else.” She blinks her eyes open. They’re shiny brown moons. “To expect so much ofyou.”

Wes leans against the doorframe. He tries to control his expression. He failed the bookstore. He failed her. But Mrs. Rossi failed him too. And that’s the hardest part to digest. Ella’s right—she’s the closest thing to a second mom for all of them.

“I also didn’t say anything because I know you. This is your home,” she squeaks. The tremble in her voice is almost too much for him. “It’s my home too. Decades, Wes. I’ve given this place decades, but I can’t keep it going.Ican’t keep going.”

Wes crosses his arms. His expression hardens. “But someone else could’ve.”

Mrs. Rossi shakes her head.

It’s selfish. If she’s too tired to keep going, then retire. Give the reins to someone like Anna. Or one of the local bookstore managers that have been ousted by online retailers destroying the lifeline of independent bookstores.

Maybe…him. Wes doesn’t know all the ways Once Upon a Page operates, but he knows enough.

“You’re just giving up on something that means a lot to this community,” he snaps. “You can retire. But you can’t just let this place go.”

“Ican,” she bites back. “It’s mine.”

“No, it’s the property of some bullshit, commercialized coffeehouse now.”

“You don’t understand.”

Those three words strike the flame over the kerosene in his chest. “How am I supposed to? I’m eighteen. Everyone expects me to just wake up and have my shit together. I’m supposed to have a plan.” His chest heaves, his brain on fire. “But everything I come up with isn’t good enough. I’m adult enough for expectations, but not adult enough to know what I want.”

“Wes, sweetheart, it’s not—”

“You gave me my first and only job at sixteen.” Wes hates how pathetic his voice sounds. It’s whiny. It’s filled with ache. “You were the one person that believed in me. But even you didn’t believe I was adult enough to handle any of this.”

---