Page 42 of The Sandy Page Bookshop

Eudora

The café work was interfering with the knitters and the painters, and the handful of little kids who’d come in with their grandmothers to craft.

Though Eudora was still coming to grips with the added noise and activity, Leah’s Sandy Studio had opened its doors to all for an official crafting hour.

It was just as Leah wanted. For a small fee, people of all ages came in with projects of all kinds during hours which she listed as “open studio.” Thankfully, the sessions were just three times a week, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, with a dedicated end time.

Dedicated end times mattered, especially when glitter and little hands were involved.

It also allowed Eudora to protect the sanctity of her knitting group and enjoy quieter moments with her regulars on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

The thing was, many of the knitters came in for all of it.

They staked out their chairs in the corner by the good window, the kids and young parents took over the big table, and the artists of other mediums spread out around the perimeter.

Leah had found three art easels at an elementary school tag sale.

Plus, news of the café got out. Nothing drove local foot traffic like gossip and nosiness.

Though it was still a week from opening, reviews on the café were already mixed.

“What does Chatham Perk have to say about this?” Eudora overheard a middle-aged woman ask Leah at the register.

“Actually, I’m a regular at Chatham Perk myself,” Leah told her.

“They recommended suppliers for me.” Leah smiled warmly at the woman, who did not smile back.

“Our café will have a small-scale offering to complement the bookshop, not to compete with anyone else. It’s nice when small businesses work together, don’t you think? ”

Eudora could understand the negativity some people assigned to change, but she would never get why some people just liked to stir the pot.

It reminded her of the two gossipy women she’d overheard talking about the Sandy Page at the start of the summer at the library book club she’d failed to stay for. How far she’d come since then!

Despite the constant hum of background construction, it was nice to see Luke back in the shop.

He was the one person Alfred sort of liked, and the little dog seemed to enjoy tailing him through the store, though Eudora suspected Alfred might operate from his own cache of nosiness.

For a misguided minute, Scout was permitted in the shop as well, but the chaos of the chase that ensued caused a display table to tip over and the youngsters in the children’s section to go wild.

Scout was subsequently confined to the kitchen with Luke.

Amidst all the café construction, Eudora found herself most distracted by her coworkers, whose personal lives appeared to be undergoing a dismantling of their own.

There was Lucy, who’d burst back into the shop after talking to that teenage boy who’d been lurking about.

Then there was Brad, who’d gone solemn and serious, the usual bright light of his disposition all but extinguished.

How Eudora would like a word with that grandmother!

Finally, there was Leah, who had her business hat on but whose smile didn’t quite make it to her eyes these days.

Trouble was afoot, so Eudora set up camp in the studio.

She cleaned paint spills and swept glitter and replenished supplies when Leah wasn’t looking.

“Oh gosh, you don’t have to do that!” Leah kept saying. But someone did.

By the end of the week, not much had changed on those fronts.

Brad was residing with Leah and not speaking with his grandmother.

Lucy was still hauling an invisible basket of misery around, reading the story time books with a flat tone and refusing Eudora’s invitations to knit.

Leah had absconded to her office, making occasional appearances in the kitchen doorway while Luke worked, and then retreating behind her closed door.

The only happy person seemed to be Luke.

He was more gregarious than ever, despite the long hours.

A handful of times Eudora could swear she heard the sound of whistling coming from the kitchen.

All week she tried to stay out of his way, but by the end of it, she peeked behind the tarp covering the kitchen doorway. Luke had all but finished.

The spacious old kitchen had been neatly divided in two.

Behind a wide counter was the food service, and in front of it was the seating.

Two old-fashioned display cases flanked the service counter.

The old wide plank floorboards were polished and four cute little tables, mismatched and salvaged, as was Leah’s signature style, were set out for customers.

“What do you think?” Leah joined her in the doorway.

“I think I’m in the wrong house,” Eudora said with wonder.

“Take a tour,” Leah said. It was the first time she’d looked happy all week.

Eudora walked behind the counter to the kitchen area.

Gone were the cracked and faded green laminate counters.

Sleek faux granite worktops stretched the length of each wall.

The cabinets had been sanded and the ugly decorative scrollwork stripped, the cabinet faces now painted a deep navy, both classic and coastal.

The walls were a hushed gray that evoked fog coming in off the bay.

All about were pops of lobster red: an old-fashioned enamel-faced refrigerator, coffee-making equipment, blenders, and other small appliances.

“It’s so inviting,” Eudora gushed. She spun around to face Leah. “You did all this!”

Leah shrugged half-heartedly. “With Luke. And, of course, the team.”

“You have amassed quite a team here, my dear. I hope you know that.”

“I’m very lucky,” Leah said, but she didn’t sound like she felt very lucky. Perhaps she was just exhausted. Eudora suspected it was more, though.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asked. “It’s been a long, hard week.”

Leah grimaced. “Did you ever second guess yourself over a really big decision, and wonder if you made the wrong choice?”

Eudora glanced around the cozy little café, the glittering new space practically humming. Already she could feel it filling with customers, smell the freshly brewed coffee. “I can assure you, this decision was not wrong.”

“It’s not this, it’s personal.” She shook her head as if dismissing the thought. “Never mind, it’s nothing. You’re right—it’s been a long week.”

It occurred to Eudora that Leah was having second thoughts about the men in her life; there were only two she knew of, but it didn’t matter.

“I was married a long time to a wonderful man. And though we enjoyed many happy times together, some of them right here in this old house, there were times we both struggled.”

“But you stayed together, and you were mostly happy?”

It was Eudora’s turn to shrug. “We were in the same boat. As you age, you realize life is not just about the good weather days—the days your health is strong or there’s money in the bank or a new baby is on the way.

It’s full of the other kind. And it’s how you steer the boat through those days that matters most.”

Leah looked away, and for a moment Eudora feared her analogy may have been lost. But when she turned back, Eudora understood. She waited while Leah swiped the tear from her cheek. “What if you got out of the boat?” Leah asked.

“Then I guess you have to ask yourself a question.”

“You mean, will he let me back in?”

“No.” Eudora shook her head. “Are you sure you want to?”