Page 6 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?

TWO

Read It and Weep

E verly Springs, Virginia, was much smaller than Ella had envisioned.

She’d spent the last two days getting to know the small city that seemed to favor local businesses.

The town had a charm that snuck up on her, comprised of porch swings, friendly hellos from strangers, and the kind of storefronts that felt more personal than supremely polished.

On her third morning, with nowhere to be, she let her feet lead her through the town’s main drag until a familiar word in loopy, hand-painted letters caught her eye. Books . A bookstore? She paused immediately, her heart fluttering with happiness at the find.

The storefront itself was narrow and sandwiched between a boutique pet store and a barbershop that looked like it hadn’t changed in fifty years.

The bookstore’s large front window displayed an arrangement of books propped on wooden crates, framed by twinkle lights and a curtain of ivy creeping down from the awning above.

The paint on the door, deep green with a brass handle, was chipped in a way that felt earned rather than neglected.

Above it all hung a hand-painted sign with swooping white script: Doug’s Books .

Ella already loved the store’s vibe. It looked like the kind of place that had been there forever, and that no one would dare suggest changing.

Intrigued, she pushed open the door and stepped into a store that looked like it had been designed by someone who loved books just a little too much. The interior followed up on that concept, delivering a small space crammed with more bookshelves than should have been legal.

In fact, was it? She scanned the overrun shelves, actually a little in love with the variety of covers all shoved together in haphazard rows like some eccentric wizard had arranged them.

There was beauty in the chaos, the mismatched covers of all shapes and sizes lined up like soldiers beneath small signs that indicated mystery, science fiction, or romance.

“Can I help you find a particular story?”

Ella turned to see a thin, partially balding man, with glasses sliding down his nose, regarding her.

He seemed incredibly bookish, which she appreciated.

Very on-brand. Interestingly, he wore a white apron, as if he worked in a bakery.

There were no pastries in sight, however.

His phrasing of the question had also been unique.

He hadn’t asked to help her find a particular book . He’d said story .

“No, thank you. Just getting a feel for the store. You have so many books in here. Well done.”

“Well, I am Doug ,” he said, pointing at the sign on the wall as if it should explain everything. “I like books.” A pause. “That’s why I’ve named the store Doug’s Books.”

“Right. And that holds up.” She nodded, and they stared at each other for a beat past comfortable.

“And we have coffee.” Doug blinked but didn’t move a muscle. “Yonder.”

“Yonder?” People apparently said that in Everly Springs. She’d make note.

“Yes. That’s what I said.”

“That’s fantastic, and probably why you’re wearing the apron. It’s all coming together now.” She added a laugh, imagining he’d join her. He did not.

“No.” A pause. “I own the store, so I wear the apron. But only when I’m working. That’s probably assumed.”

Again, sensible. She couldn’t argue. “Well, I’m Ella. New to town, and since I’m here, I’d like to give you my card, just in case you’d ever like to do any advertising or event planning that might require a graphic artist. That’s what I do. Graphic art.”

His eyes lit up for the first time since she’d entered the shop. “Yes! I host book signings and could use help with the flyers. I hate flyers so much. Do you do flyers, by chance?” He took a dedicated step forward.

“At this juncture in my life, Doug, I will do anything for a dollar.”

He leaned in. “Oh, don’t say that to too many people.”

She laughed at the horrified expression on his face and knew, without a doubt, that she was going to need a lot more Doug in her life. “Good call. I’ll refrain.”

Then all of a sudden, he straightened as if a fantastic idea had just arrived with a suitcase.

“And you really should pin one of those cards to the bulletin board on the back wall, above the little coffee nook. Serve yourself, by the way, and put a dollar in the jar. We’re on the honor system around here. ”

“Oh, will do, Doug.” She liked using his name.

“That bulletin board gets more play than my Aunt Millie in her good years.” He stood there, wide-eyed and stone-faced, waiting for the comment to settle.

“Well … good for Aunt Millie. That’s my first thought.

” Ella raised a brow and nodded. “I’ll have to check out this bulletin board with that kind of endorsement.

” Doug nodded and left her space to wander.

She made a point to take her time, enjoying every detail of the unique shop.

The intertwining aisles had no rhyme, reason, or organization to their arrangement, further bolstering the child-lost-in-a-mysterious-forest feel.

Finally, she made her way to the small coffee nook, poured some of the suspicious dark brew into the uneventful paper cup, and took a sip.

Her eyes closed. It was not only well brewed, it felt like a warm embrace from a long-lost coffee relative.

“Doug!” she called. “This coffee is amazing. You are to be commended by the coffee officials. I don’t know any, but maybe some will find their way in. ”

“I know.” Doug’s voice floated quietly back to her over the shelves between them.

Realizing that was all she was going to get, Ella carried her favorite new cup of coffee over to the bulletin board to pin up her card.

The brown corkboard on the back wall was already crowded with ads, flyers, and notes of all sizes and colors.

Most of them overlapped in chaos reminiscent of the store itself.

Some of the posts advertised for roommates, while others sold items like a “used bike that’s seen damned better days. ”

“Same,” she mumbled to the flyer. Next to it hung a blue index card with the words Read It and Weep Book Club .

She smiled, moved past it, but found her gaze backtracking to the words scrawled in thick black Sharpie.

Interesting . She’d always wanted to belong to a book club, but had never really stumbled upon the opportunity.

She loved to read, but it had gotten away from her in the last few years.

Then there was the fact that she’d never really read with anyone before, not even a buddy.

Certainly not strangers. But wasn’t she reinventing herself and turning over a new leaf?

If this wasn’t the time to try something different, then when was?

She studied the details on the card. It seemed the club met on Tuesday nights and asked new members to send a message to the number on the card for the current week’s book selection.

She snapped a photo and decided to let the idea linger in her brain for a bit, see how she felt.

“Hey, do you know much about the Read It and Weep Book Club?” she asked Doug as she passed the checkout counter on the way out.

“I do. Feisty women who have lots of opinions. They call themselves the Weepers. I don’t mess with ‘em.”

“My kind of people.”

“If you want to join ‘em, this is what they’re reading this week.” He pointed at the small pyramid of books on top of the counter.

“You’d think they’d meet monthly, but no, they tear through books like raccoons to a bag of trash.

They gotta have their romance, too. Did I mention all the books are romance?

” He scoffed as if personally offended by their inability to branch out.

“There are lots of genres to explore, but Stevie just refuses to budge.”

Ella considered herself a reasonably fast reader, and it wasn’t like she had too much going on. Why not? She returned to the counter and checked out the selection of the month. “Romance,” she murmured. It had been a while since she’d read one of those.

“Parker Bristow is a bestseller,” Doug said, ambling behind the counter. “She brings all the girls to the yard.” A pause. “I should know. I’m the yard.”

“Does she?” Ella flipped the book over and paused at the two women looking rather in love on the cover. “Oh. It’s women. Like actually.” She didn’t know how delicate she needed to be with ole Doug.

“Ah, yep. Bristow’s veered into the sapphic lane these days. So have the Weepers. That’s what they call it. Sapphic.”

She met his gaze and he met hers, unwavering. “You’re very astute, Doug.”

“I know.”

Ella wanted more information, her interest significantly piqued. She knew one thing for sure, book club or not, she was taking a copy of this book with her and exploring a romance that might speak to her more than she was used to. She handed over her credit card and waited as Doug rang her up.

“I will definitely be back,” she told him with a smile. The coffee alone would haul her in.

“You will,” he said, handing her the book in a cute little blue bag with millions of books all over it.

This place had a definite point of view, and it involved there being lots of books in the world.

Doug was running with the theme and not looking back.

“And I’ll be using your services sooner rather than later for flyers.

Flyers can kiss my ass,” he said to no one in particular.

She wondered about their sordid history.

“So, I have a new client?” she asked, standing a little taller. This had been such a worthwhile stop. Her excitement rose and swarmed.

“Ah. Yep. You do. Provided you’re any good.”

“Well, I am.”

“I’ll call soon so we can do the planning properly.”

“Looking forward to it. Have a great day, Doug.”

But he was already off and puttering again, headed down one of those curvy aisles. “Enjoy your Bristow,” he said without looking back.