Page 5

HARPER

I woke up to “Promiscuous” by Nelly Furtado playing in my ear. It was the song Aster had programmed as her ringtone, to be funny. I answered my phone when I realized I was no longer dreaming.

“Hey girl, you still sleeping?” She cheered into my ear before I could say hello.

She is such a morning person.

“Yeah,” I grumbled to the speaker.“What do you want?”

She laughed.

“Damn Harper, do you know what time it is?” she asked knowingly. I glanced at the clock.

“SHIT! I gotta go.” I yelled. Slamming my phone down on the nightstand, I jumped out of bed.

I worked at a small bookstore downtown on Saturday and Sunday mornings. I picked up the job when we moved here, to make a little extra money for college, but it’s such a peaceful environment, I could say it’s almost therapeutic. Even after I no longer needed the income, I chose to stay employed. Working there is what I imagine working at a library would be like. A calm, quiet environment, surrounded by one of my favorite things in the world, books.

I opened the store in the mornings and old man Frank, the owner, came in later in the afternoon to relieve me. I don’t think he needed my help as much as he used to, I think he secretly kept me on the payroll purely for the companionship. His wife died, and the bookstore was all he had left of her.

It was her dream to own a small-town bookstore, and he had done everything to keep it open in her honor.

They had been married for fifty- two years. Fifty-two years of waking up next to the same person, learning that person’s quirks and what keeps them going in life. To never feel alone or unwanted. I don’t think I’ll ever have that because of my past. I don’t think I would ever be able to allow a man close enough to me, just the thought makes me cringe, not that I’m looking. Besides, you can’t trust people, not even ones that are meant to protect you.

I was supposed to be there by ten and looking at the clock that read nine-fifteen, I was already fifteen minutes late, considering it’s an hour’s journey from home.

I’d usually ride the bus to save money, but an Uber would be necessary if I had any hope of opening the bookstore on time.

* * *

My Uber app said my driver was ten minutes away. I rushed putting my jeans on, a long-sleeved shirt, and a hoodie, I grabbed my shoes after tossing my hair into a messy bun, then looked for my purse.

Remembering I lost it in the scuffle the night before, when my tall dark, and handsome vigilante saved me from God knows what. My mind drifted to those eyes. There was something in his eyes.

I shook my head to clear my wandering thoughts. I frowned at the thought of replacing everything in my purse. The only thing that couldn’t be replaced was my guardian angel pin.

Losing it was just a reminder of a painful memory, and perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing after all. Maybe it was time to move forward, and let go of the memory of the most tragic time of my life.