Page 26 of The Sandy Page Bookshop

“Well, please don’t make it my business,” he said, before making his escape. “You can make me stock shelves and clean out vermin, but I draw the line at kids.”

Lucy took the flyer gently from Leah’s grip.

“Maybe it needs to be simpler. And less colorful,” she suggested softly. The flyer looked more like a haunted carnival than a kiddie tea party.

“Here.” Leah surrendered the rest of the flyers. “I trust you. Can you make a new one by the end of today? I want to hang it in the shop window and outside.”

Lucy nodded. She could have it done in fifteen minutes.

Leah set her up in the dining room–office at her laptop and left her to it.

It felt important to be sitting in her boss’s leather chair at her desk, but also a little strange.

Each time the chandelier flickered overhead Lucy swung her gaze up.

Brad swore it was the captain’s daughters.

Lucy was pretty sure it was just the old house, but she said a silent prayer just in case.

She was printing out the new sample when her boss showed up in the doorway.

“Luce, someone is asking for you out front.”

“For me?” A short distance behind Leah stood a teenage boy. Right away Lucy recognized the lanky figure of Jep Parsons. He stared back at her from beneath the hood of his sweatshirt.

Lucy froze. There was no way she could tell Leah who he was, because that would mean explaining things. Things she desperately needed to keep separate from the Sandy Page. But she also couldn’t escape.

Leah remained in the doorway, looking at her oddly. “Everything okay?”

Lucy swallowed hard. “Yes,” she lied. “Here, I just finished this.”

Before she could change her mind she handed Leah the new flyer and ducked past her. She strode through the storefront, right past Jep Parsons who followed swiftly after her. Once safely outside, Lucy tugged the shop door closed behind them and spun around to face him on the sidewalk.

“What do you want?” she almost shouted. “Why do you keep coming here?” The boldness in her voice was a surprise even to her.

Jep’s brown eyes widened. “Lucy, I’m sorry. But I have to talk to you.”

“Well, I can’t talk to you!” Warnings flashed in her mind: her father’s fist on the kitchen table the night before; the confrontation in the hospital hallway; the lawyers in their dark suits in her living room. And Ella, lying in the hospital bed. All because of Jep Parsons.

“This is my job. You have to stop coming here!”

“But there’s something I have to tell you.” Despite his obvious distress, Jep Parsons was even better looking up close. His dark hair flopped over his brow in a boyish way that made Lucy almost feel sorry for him. But she couldn’t allow that. Not for a second.

“I’m going back to work,” she said, spinning away from him. She was done. But Jep wasn’t.

“Please. I have to give you something.” He reached for hand, and Lucy jerked back. Desperate, he grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt.

“Don’t touch me!” she cried, tugging her sweatshirt out of his grasp and breaking into a run. She sprinted around the side of the house and pushed through the side door to Leah’s office, slamming it closed behind her.

How dare Jep Parsons try to grab her? What did he think he was going to do? Heart pounding in her throat, Lucy leaned against the door, willing it to slow. She didn’t want anyone at work to see her like this. But she had to tell someone.

Ella. When life was recognizable, Ella was the person that Lucy would share something like this with. Only she couldn’t. Not anymore

Not her parents, either. Now Reya was the one person who she could turn to. If only she could leave work and tell her.

Should she tell Leah? Her boss seemed so open, so cool; Lucy had witnessed plenty of Leah’s own personal moments opening the store.

But this was her store, and she wouldn’t want any drama going on here.

Plus, she was still a grown-up. And grown-ups told other grown-ups when things went down, like Lucy’s parents.

At that moment, Leah strode across the store toward her.

Lucy straightened, swiping the hair out of her face and trying to look normal. Had Leah seen what just happened out-side?

She held the flyer aloft between them. “This is fantastic!”

“Oh, good,” Lucy managed, her whole body flooding with relief.

Leah was beaming at her. “You are so creative, Lucy Hart. I’m going to print these out and hang them up.”

Before Lucy could reply, Leah closed the distance between them, pulling her in for a quick tight hug. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

In Leah’s embrace Lucy felt something give. “You’re welcome,” she managed, choking back a sob. When what she really wanted to say to Leah was, Thank you.

She’d arranged to leave work early, telling Leah that she had an appointment. To her relief, Leah did not ask any questions. Except for one.

“Not my business, Luce, but I must say that boy who came in earlier was pretty cute.”

“He didn’t buy anything,” Brad added tersely. “He’s been here three times. Clearly not for the books.” He leveled Lucy with a teasing expression.

“Three times?” Lucy stammered. She was only aware of two.

Brad leaned across the checkout counter dramatically, resting his chin in his palms. “What Leah is too polite to ask is: Is that your boyfriend?”

“What? No!” Lucy felt herself blanche.

“Brad, someone needs help in the self-help,” Leah said in her most businesslike tone, pointing to an older man waving from that section.

“Geesh. Just making small-talk,” Brad said.

“Ignore him,” Leah told her with a wink. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said quickly. She couldn’t leave just yet, not without some understanding from Leah. “That boy, I’m not sure why he’s here. I’ve asked him to stop coming.” But instead of reassuring her boss, this seemed to make Leah’s suspicions plume.

“Lucy, is he making you feel uncomfortable? Because if he’s bothering you in any way, I hope you know you can tell me.”

God, she’d made it worse, not better. “No, no, I know him. He’s just some kid from school. That my sister knows,” she rushed to add.

“Your sister. The one who’s away?” Leah wasn’t prying. It was just a question. But it was the one Lucy had been dreading.

“Yes,” she said, ducking her chin. “I’ve got to run. See you tomorrow.”

An hour later, at Spaulding, Lucy couldn’t stop thinking back to how badly she’d fumbled it all. Ella was sleeping, and their parents were down in the cafeteria getting coffee. That’s all they did here—sit by Ella or get coffee.

The speech therapist had been working with her when they arrived. “She’s going to be tired today,” she’d said in hushed tone, “so she may not be up for much more. But I have incredible news: Ella is articulating.”

Until now, Ella had only made noises and grunts, largely undiscernible. It was maddening to Lucy at times, but it was a small flame in a dark room—there was some measure of Ella coming back.

For the last few days Lucy had watched her parents sit vigil, settling in like sentinels by her sister’s bed.

Lucy had taken the seat by her feet. Every now and then she lifted the edges of the blanket and tickled Ella’s feet—it was something her sister had always done, swinging her feet across Lucy’s lap anytime they sat on the couch or lay in bed to watch a show.

It brought Lucy comfort to do it now. Each time she ran her finger across her sister’s socked foot, Ella’s focus would swing sharply to her.

A small sound like a baby’s laugh would gurgle from her throat.

It was the only time Lucy felt like the four of them returned to their old selves.

Now, with Ella’s eyes fluttering to wakefulness and her parents out of the room, Lucy panicked. The therapist said she was articulating. What should she say? Did Ella need her to say something first so she could try to respond?

“How are you feeling today?” she asked.

Ella lifted one shoulder but made no sound.

“The nurse said you’re doing really great,” Lucy told her. “Really great.” But the forced positivity sounded flat, even to her. “I know it sucks being here. We can’t wait to bring you home.”

In the silence that followed Lucy felt her tongue go dry, her mouth like a corn husk. What was wrong with her? This was Ella. She’d never been shy around Ella.

Unable to think of what to say, she retrieved Anne of Green Gables from her backpack.

Ella stared out the window as Lucy started to read aloud.

She was on her second paragraph when Ella made a sound.

Lucy looked up. Hand trembling with effort, she reached across the bed sheets and knocked the book from Lucy’s grip.

Lucy laughed. It was the most physicality she’d seen from Ella yet. “No reading today?”

Ella blinked twice, shaking her head ever so slightly.

“Would you like to hear about the shop?” Lucy asked.

Again, the smallest noise came from her throat. Heartened, Lucy went on. “You would love it, Ella. It’s not just books—it’s seashells in the window and twinkle lights strung from the ceiling. There’s a children’s corner and a huge YA shelf and gifts and a coffee corner. I can’t wait to show you.”

Ella was listening, intently.

“My new boss, Leah, she wants me to run a story time tea party for the little kids this week. I made a flyer for it. Want to see it?”

Lucy reached around her back pocket for a copy of the flyer. She’d folded one of the printouts and taken it to show her parents. The bookstore was the only safe subject any of them could agree on these days. But her pocket was empty.

She stood, feeling the other back pocket, which was empty, too. Where had it gone? Lucy patted the front pocket of her sweatshirt, and to her surprise there was a crinkle of paper. She reached inside and withdrew a folded piece of paper. Only it wasn’t her flyer.

The paper was lined. And folded tightly into a small rectangle, like a note you’d slip a friend in class. Lucy sucked in her breath, remembering. Jep Parsons had tried to grab her sweatshirt before she ran away. He wasn’t trying to grab her arm after all. He was giving her something.

In blue pen a name was scrawled across the note. Only it wasn’t hers. It read: Ella .

When she looked up Ella was watching her. Lucy closed her hand around the note. “I’ve got to run to the bathroom.”

Safe inside the stall, Lucy stared at the note. It wasn’t hers to read. But it was her job to protect Ella. She couldn’t share it with her without knowing what it said. There was no other choice. She opened the note.

The handwriting was surprisingly neat. He’d only written two lines.

I love you, Ella.

P.S. Please don’t tell

Lucy stared at the writing. Tell what?

They already knew he’d been driving drunk. The police toxicology report said so. He’d driven off the road and slammed into a telephone pole. Everyone knew what happened that night. Everyone knew it was Jep’s fault.

A plume of fresh rage puffed in her chest. How dare Jep ask any favors of her sister!

Especially after what he did. Ella was here in a rehab hospital while Jep was out there living his life.

Bothering her family. Showing up at the bookshop.

And now—in her condition—he had the nerve to ask Ella to cover for him.

Lucy shoved the note back in her pocket. She would not show the note to Ella. Not now, not ever.