Page 32 of The Now in Forever

The car asks if I want to change or send, and impatiently I hit the button for it to send now.

The response comes back almost instantly.

“Kyle says: Works for me. See you then.”

After I load my bag in the back of the car, Grandma squeezes me in her thin arms. “You sure you have to rush off?”

“Yeah, I have a thing. ”

“A date?” she asks with a devilish grin. I didn’t tell her about Ed while I was here. I wasn’t really sure what to say.

“No—more of an appointment.”

“Hmm, very mysterious.”

I smile and figure if I’m going to tell anyone, it might as well be Grandma. “I’m looking at a bookstore for sale.”

Her eyes light up. “You are?”

“Yes, but don’t get too excited. I’m just looking. I have no idea how much they want for it. It could be millions of dollars.”

“Pssh. Millions. I doubt it.” Grandma waves her hand as if dispelling a bad smell. “You know, Grandad left me a bit of money, and I’ve been thinking of investing.”

“I haven’t even seen it yet.”

She holds up both hands. “Keep it in mind.”

“I will. And I’ll come visit soon.”

The drive is long and hot, and despite breaking the speed limit on several occasions, I’m late.

I park by the bookstore instead of walking to save a few minutes.

Kyle is waiting at the bottom of the porch steps in an olive green T-shirt and dark jeans, his jaw smooth from what looked like a fresh shave.

“Hey!” he calls as I get out of the car and cross the street, a light dusting of sand blown from the beach crunching under my feet.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“No worries.” He swings the keys around on his finger. “Ready to go inside?”

The blue Victorian lit by the afternoon sun has to be the most beautiful bookshop I’ve ever seen.

Even prettier than the one in the magazine hanging on my cork board at Grandma’s.

Walking up the steps, I picture covering them in a fresh coat of white paint, or maybe I can paint the risers like bookshelves, with colorful spines and all my favorite titles.

People can sit on them and take selfies.

Oh shit. I’m going to have to get an Instagram .

Kyle opens the red door, pulling me out of my spiral. The floors are black and white—right now they’re more dirt colored, but they will be black and white when I’m done with them. That is, if I decide to really do this.

Most of the room is exactly what I spied from the window, a massive chandelier, peeling wallpaper that would be charming if it was all in one piece, shelves still filled with books.

I take one down, flipping through the pages—it still smells like a new book.

No mold spots or musty scent. I lean in and take a big whiff, like I’m smelling a fragrant flower.

Kyle laughs. I didn’t realize he was watching me. My cheeks are warm as I put the book back on the shelf. “Pretty good stuff, huh? Nothing quite like a brand-new book. The asking price includes the stock as well.”

I keep walking into the space, too nervous to ask about the price yet. In the far corner of the shop is a counter with a silver La Marzocco Espresso machine, it’s small but has two spouts and two steam wands. Underneath is a small fridge on one side and a cupboard on the other.

In the cupboard underneath an ancient-looking cash register are mismatched porcelain teacups, saucers, and mugs with sayings like Life’s a Beach and Sorry I’m Booked , with a painted hardback on it. Smiling, I hold it up to show Kyle. “I didn’t even know there was a little coffee shop in here.”

“Yeah, my mom used to love their lavender lattes.”

I look around, taking it all in. “It’s amazing.”

“Wait till you see upstairs.”

My chest warms with excitement. I sort of figured upstairs would be storage, or maybe an office. I follow Kyle as he opens the door, picturing boxes and boxes of back stock, but it’s better—so much better.

The entire second story is an apartment. There is a small entryway with a built-in bench. I resist the urge to kick off my shoes. The floors are a light hardwood, and I don’t want to scuff them. When I live here, I’ll be a no shoes in the house kind of girl. If. If I live here.

There is a small sitting room and kitchen all in one space, filled with light from the massive windows.

In the corner is a breakfast nook, and one whole wall of the sitting room is a built-in bookshelf.

To the opposite side of the kitchen is a small hallway with two doors.

I open the one to the bathroom first. It has teal blue tile and a massive claw-foot tub.

The shower head is the only thing that looks updated.

I’m excited and a little nervous to see what the water pressure is like, but it feels like an overstep to turn on the tap.

Across the hall is the bedroom. It has a large window with no curtains at the moment. And the view is amazing. It looks right out onto the beach and the ocean. I run my hand along the windowsill. A writing desk would fit perfectly right here.

Kyle clears his throat, announcing his presence in the room.

I swallow hard, nervous to ask, but I have to know. If it’s out of my price range, I can move on, but it’ll be hard to put this place out of my mind. “How much do they want?”

His smile is wide, and the number he says freezes me to my spot.

“Really?”

He nods. “Not sure what your price range is, but the family is very motivated to sell. It’s been on the market for a quite a few years already.”

My lips feel numb. I could do this. Once the house money comes in and with maybe a small loan, I could live here. Fix it up. Run the shop. My smile grows as it dawns on me exactly what I’ll name it. If I decide to do this.

My watch alerts me to a text, and my stomach drops. Shit. I never texted Ed back after he sent that photo this morning. I pull out my phone.

Kyle says, “I have to get going. My shift starts soon at the bar.”

“Right. Right.” I shove my phone into my back pocket. “Thank you for taking the time to show me this place.”

“Sure. No trouble.” He hands me a business card. “This is my buddy handling the sale.”

“Great.”

Then he hands me another card. “This is the contact info for the FFBIF—the Fortune Falls Business Improvement Foundation. They’re a group that helps mentor local business owners. They set up a table every Wednesday at the library. Might help if you have questions.”

I look down at the card, running my fingers over the thick cardstock. “This is amazing. Thanks.”

Walking out, I soak in every detail I can about the place, mentally making notes. On the sidewalk, I pull out my phone and take another picture.

Kyle’s watching me. “Are you seriously thinking of putting in an offer?”

I purse my lips to the side. Am I? It feels right.

It’s been my dream to own my own bookstore since I was a kid.

But what would pursuing it cost me? Ed doesn’t want to live here, that’s for sure.

We’re not really at the stage of talking about our future together—but where does that leave me?

I need to make some crucial decisions about my life with or without his input.

I sigh. “I’m not sure yet.”