Page 103 of Will Bark for Pizza
“Oh my—yes!” Lotti all but squealed.
The entire book club went a little nuts.
“That would be so perfect!”
“Your mom would love that.”
“It would be so full circle.”
“Do youwantto own a bookstore?” Aspen asked from the opposite end of the table, effectively silencing the group.
“I don’t know anything about running one,” I admitted.
“We do,” Thelma said.
“You do?”
“I used to help your mom with the book buying,” Dylann said. “I’m a little rusty, but I’m not useless.”
“I worked part time just so I could read the advance copies,” Thelma added.
“I worked on the weekends,” Betty added. “And planned the story hours for the kids. I really miss doingthat. Margene cut that program a month after Brenda left us.”
“Fucking Margene,” Thelma muttered.
“I still think we need to organize a manhunt,” Dylann said, matter-of-factly. “Frank says he might know a guy.”
“We are not hiring a hitman.”
Dylann shrugged. “Just an idea.”
“My husband can help with the accounting stuff,” Carlos said. “At least to start.”
“I might know a thing or two as well.” I looked over my shoulder to find Grandma Connie standing near the register. I had no idea when she slipped in, or how. Had to be the back door. How long had she been standing there? Was she totally mortified that I wrote vampire smut? My cheeks heated to inferno levels.
“Come take a seat, Connie,” Dylann insisted. “I’ll pour you a margarita.”
“Sorry I’m late,” she said to the group, her gaze landing on me at last as she pulled out a copy ofForever Forbiddenfrom her tote bag. “I—I didn’t know if I?—”
“We understand,” Carol Ann said, her tone filled with compassion. “We know it’s hard.”
“That’s not an excuse,” Grandma Connie said. “Not anymore. I owe you all an apology.”
“For what?” Lotti asked.
“I feel responsible for what’s happening. If I’d stepped up and taken over?—”
“Connie, you do not get to blame yourself. We won’t fucking allow it,” Thelma insisted, folding her arms across her chest. “Margene Miller fooled us all. The only thingyou’re guilty of is believing in someone who stabbed you in the damn back with a pickaxe.”
Grandma Connie swiped at her tears as Husker nosed the back of her arm, causing her to laugh. “You know I brought you some asparagus,” she said to him, fishing a baggie of vegetables from her tote as Dylann slid her a margarita across the table.
“Would you really be willing to work here again?” I asked Grandma Connie after she took a hearty sip, trying my best to keep my question as delicate as possible. When Mom was still here, Grandma Connie was in the bookstore daily. But, to my knowledge, she hadn’t stepped foot in Brenda’s Book Nook since the day of Mom’s accident.
“Only if it’s what you want, Kira,” she said to me. “Margene left your father in a financial mess. It would be an uphill battle from the get-go. I won’t ask you to sink that kind of money into a store just to preserve your mother’s legacy.”
WhatdidI want?
I knew what I didn’t want.
