Page 19 of Book and Ladder
By the end of the day, we had restored the bookshop to some semblance of normalcy. Customers pitched in, excitedly recounting snippets of the mayhem to one another whilethey swept, picked up downed books, and straightened shelves.
It was midafternoon by the time I responded to the email I received yesterday from the host ofBurning Through the Pages. He had written:
Dear M&M,
Thanks for the green light. Recording tomorrow. Show will go live next week. I already recorded this week’s episode in advance. Can’t wait to hear your response to my take on all the red flags Mr. Darcy brings to the dating scene. If you don’t mind my asking, what are you reading these
days?
- BTTP
I wrote back:
Dear BTTP,
I don’t mind you asking. I’m readingThe Summer We Loved. It’s pure escapism, with a dash of heartbreak and hope.
Don’t judge a book by its cover and, for the love of all things literary, don’t judge the reader by the book they choose to indulge in.
- M&M
And now, at the end of this crazy long day, as I’m scuttling through my home trying to find the notebook I take to all town hall and community planning meetings, my phone pings with an email alert. As tired as I am, my heart rate picks up the slightest bit.
It could be my bank, for all I know, telling me I’ve overdrawn. But I still feel lighter at the possibility that it’s him. This situation is so surreal. How is it we’re actually conversationally emailing?
I stop in my tracks and open my email app on my phone. The inbox says (1). The subject says:Judgment.
I smile wider.
I almost fabricated another book to tell him I was reading. Admitting to something light and escapist might diminish his respect for me as a reader. He doesn’t know my entire life revolves around literature. He doesn’t know me. He won’t ever know me in real life. There’s something incredibly freeing about being able to talk to a person you’ll never come face to face with. Especially when that person has revealed so much of themselves on a podcast.
Dear M&M,
No judgment. I’d also love to quote you on my show sometime. Anonymously.
And, believe it or not, I read romance from time to time—and I don’t mean Darcy. There’s nothing quite like watching the dance of two souls exploring their connection. The tug and pull, the resistance and surrender.I marvel at an author who can capture the nuances of a developing relationship in words.
I almost just deleted that whole paragraph after rereading it. But I thought I’d leave it since you shared your fluffy book choice with me. Here’s to cotton candy books. And meaty books. And all the reads between.
- BTTP
My smile is so big it stretches my cheeks. I’ve got to run to the Fall Festival planning meeting, but I just have to respond.
Dear BTTP,
I’ve never heard anyone describe reading romance the way you did. I loved that. And this story isn’t all cotton candy. But it is feel-good. Can’t wait to hear your thoughts on Darcy, even though I’m quite sure I’ll wholeheartedly disagree with you.
- M&M
I pause for a moment. Then I hit send. I resolve not to second guess myself. He’ll probably smile at me saying I’ll wholeheartedly disagree with him.
I look at the clock and gasp. Fifteen minutes til the meeting starts. I’m definitely late.
I check one last place for my notebook and, thankfully, find it. Grabbing my things, I take off for the community center.
My mom’s eyebrows raise when I practically skid through the double doors leading into the meeting room. She and my aunt are sitting one row back from the front. And the seat on the aisle next to them is vacant. I walk up the center aisle, nodding and smiling at my neighbors and friends along the way. Then I slide into the reserved spot my aunt and mom held for me.
“Thought you might not make it, Daisy,” Mom says quietly.
