Page 84 of Book and Ladder
She’d know what to say right now, with the bookshop she loved facing total annihilation. She’d probably say something like,“It’s all just stuff and things, Daisy. Life is short. You can’t take any of this with you, so let it go.”
Or maybe,“That son-of-a-gun, Conrad O’Connell. If he were a few years younger, I’d put him over my knee.”And then we’d both laugh, and I’d feel emboldened to stand my ground.
I set my purse on my entry table and slip out of my shoes and jacket. I pull a scrapbook off the shelf in the living room and curl up with it on my couch. These photo albums are one of the few things I have left of my grandparents. These, a few trinkets, and the bookshop.
I flip through pictures of my grandparents at Moss and Maple when I was a child. There are photos of my birthday party that year—the year I turned eight. And then a two-page spread of our family at the Christmas tree lighting in the town square. I survey the people in the background of the photo and my eyes land on a boy with jet black hair. I can’t seem to shake him these days.
I saw Patrick skitter into his apartment tonight, avoiding me when I pulled up. Good. He should run—him and his infuriating hand on my elbow. Yes. He saved me from possibly twisting my ankle or scraping myself up. But no matter how thoughtful he can be on occasion—no matter what he looks like holding a puppy with his shirt off—he’s still an O’Connell.
I shut the scrapbook, setting it aside. My laptop beckons me from the coffee table. I could check if the host ofBurning Through the Pagesis online. With all the hubbub about the development, we haven’t messaged in a few days. Is it odd that I miss him?
I won’t second guess myself. Not tonight. He’s never given me any indication that I’m bothering him. To the contrary, he seems happy to hear from me and just as engaged as I am in continuing our online relationship.
I open our DMs on the off chance that he might be online. His message pops up before I even start typing.
BTTP: Hey, are you around?
M&M: I am. Just came on here to see if you were online. Are you still here?
BTTP: I’m here. How are you?
M&M: I’m … okay.
BTTP: That ellipsis says something else is going on. Want to tell me about it?
M&M: In a general way?
BTTP: In whatever way you want to.
M&M: It’s complicated. Remember that David and Goliath situation I told you about?
BTTP: Of course.
M&M: Well, I think Goliath won.
BTTP: That’s awful. Are you okay?
M&M: I will be. Right now I just want a bowl of ice cream and a whole lot ofGilmore Girlsreruns.
BTTP:Gilmore Girls, huh? Are you team Dean, team Jess, or team Logan?
M&M: Stop! How do you know about the teams?
BTTP: I may have watched an episode or two.
M&M: Are you real?
BTTP: Last time I checked. So … which team are you? And, before you answer, know that your decision will determine the fate of our relationship. No pressure.
M&M: I’m supposed to answer you with the fate of our relationship on the line?
BTTP: Yep.
M&M: Okay. Here goes. As unpopular as it may be, I’m team Jess.
BTTP: Jess? The reckless guy who broke her wrist driving her new car? The one who didn’t have the maturity or stability to be there when she really needed him?
M&M: I love their intellectual compatibility. Jess challenged Rory, and the chemistry was the best. He supported her when others doubted her. Besides, he’s bookish.
