Deck the Shelves (Village of Berkingsley #2)

Believe

Chapter 7

(in New Love and the Fundraising Magic of Christmas Festivals)

T he door of the eatery opened, pulling my attention away from the laptop on the table in front of me. Emilia glided in, wearing a thin peacoat over a day dress, earmuffs on her head. I was always after her for dressing inappropriately for the weather, but she claimed the winters here were nothing compared to Boston, where she grew up. I knew I’d be freezing my tits off if I dressed like her. At least she’s wearing the wellies I bought her last year for her birthday.

“Hey, babe,” I said in greeting as she sat down across from me at the rectangular table built for two. We were grabbing lunch at Mae’s Eatery , Theo’s restaurant. It was our favorite place to meet because of the fresh, modern farmhouse feel. Even in the dead of winter, light shone through the front panel of windows that spanned across the front of the building. Perfect for keeping that seasonal depression at bay. In the warmer months, the oversized windows propped open and a gorgeous flower display spanned across the short brown awnings outside. It was a favorite amongst locals and visitors alike.

“You’re looking extra chipper today. I thought you said you were catching up on work before I got here,” she said, nodding to the laptop that was now closed on the table.

“Oh, I was. I have some emails that still need attention and a client that is adamant about wearing a designer Rouje dress that I am having a hard time securing. But nothing I can’t handle.”

“How are you managing things from home? Is the agency getting by without you?”

“Well, you know, just barely. How does anyone get by without my talents?” I said, fluttering my eyelashes. I took a sip of my tea. “I’ll be back at work by the end of next week. They’ll survive without me. I’m also stopping in tomorrow to get caught up on some paperwork and deal with any minor fires that need extinguishing. Like, this Charlotte Diea woman. We are working to promote her company’s new Italian perfume, and she’s pushing back on the outfit that was chosen for the advertisement. Absolutely bonkers. But you know, my job is to keep the clients happy and all. Blah, blah, blah. I’ll work my magic, though, and it will get sorted.” I blew the bangs out of my eyes, releasing my frustration.

“It always does with you, my friend,” Emilia said, placing her hand on top of mine and giving a quick squeeze.

“Ah, my girl finally arrived.” Theo approached the table, giving Emilia a sweet kiss on the forehead, before dragging a seat over from a nearby table. He slung himself on the backward chair, resting his forearms on the top rail. He was dressed casually today in a long-sleeved green henley and jeans.

“Hi, baby. How’s your day going?” Emilia asked, looking up at her guy with large doe eyes. Oh, these two. I couldn’t even be jealous of their sappiness because they both meant so much to me. If anything, it encouraged my dreams about finding that kind of love. I thought I had it with Rian, but I obviously read that situation wrong.

“Not too bad. I’ve been cooped up in the office today, trying to assess our inventory and make sure the wine will be flowing freely on Saturday.” Theo’s role in the Christmas festival was an important one. The wine he served at his restaurant was from Chapel Farms, the local vineyard, and the same brand my parents sold in their shop. He would be keeping plenty of people warm and cheerful with wine tastings during the Christmas festival on Saturday. We also planned on having the bottles from Spines ‘n’ Wines on hand to sell. All of the money he raised from the wine tastings would be donated to the bookshop.

“Do you still need help selling the tickets for the tastings? Julia offered to help if needed,” Emilia asked. Julia was the receptionist at Blackley Manor who took over for me when I finished my fashion degree and dived headfirst into the marketing world.

“Nah, Stewart is helping me serve, and Scarlett is going to sell the tickets. We should be all set. Thanks, love.” He drummed the table before standing.

“I’m so glad big sis is coming back into town to help with the event. We need a little bit of her contemptuous authority to ensure this all works out,” I said.

“Yes, I agree 100 percent with that. Scarlett will be a huge help all weekend,” Theo replied before changing subjects. “Are you ladies feeling like your usual for lunch? Or shall I surprise you with my own personal creation?”

“Oh, nope,” I groaned. “I’m not falling for that again. That leek salad tasted like shite last time. Shite, tossed in lemon vinaigrette and topped with cheese. I like cheese as much as the next girl, but all the cheese in the world couldn’t fix that dish,” I jabbered.

“Hey, that was a Theo Original. I had to use up some of my veggies before they went bad.” He flashed a wink at Emilia.

“Oh, I doubt that, sir. You just like torturing me. I do know how to give a review on Yelp, so you’d better watch yourself.”

“Ouch, Alice. Alright, I’ll have Stewart make you the usual chicken salad sandwich. No tricks this time. But probably shouldn’t leave a Yelp review anyway. Seems a bit unethical, family and all.”

“You might like playing the role of big brother Theo, but last time I checked, we had different parents. Better make that sandwich extra tasty. With a big pickle on the side. And some crisps.”

His eyebrows raised as he smirked back at me. “One tasty sandwich with a big pickle coming up. And, for you, my love?” He looked over at Emilia. “Theo’s special?”

Emilia shook her head. “I’m with Alice on this one. I’ll just have the garden salad with some bread.

With a shrug of his shoulders, he began his walk back to the kitchen. “Your loss, ladies. You’re missing something good.”

“Oh, and honey?” Emilia called out, stopping Theo in his tracks. “I’d also love a caramel latte, with a special surprise foam design.” She giggled.

He smiled at that, before responding, “Anything for you, love.”

“I sure hope you don’t let that man cook for you at home,” I jested once Theo returned to the kitchen.

“Surprisingly, he can make some delicious meals. I think you’re right. He just likes pulling your leg.” She readjusted her long, blonde hair into a high ponytail, a small smirk on her face.

“Always has. I thought maybe he’d cut me some slack when he became engaged to my best friend, but I guess that’s just a pipe dream. I’m so glad you could meet for lunch, anyhow. I have so much to tell you.” I leaned across the table, my hands under my chin, bubbling with excitement. “Remember Freddie, the guy I had a drink with at the pub last week?” My eyes lit up so big that Emilia probably thought I was on something. “I bumped into him at the grocery store yesterday, and well, I might not be going back there after the absolute shite storm Pippy and I created. But anyway, he found me there, sitting with a million pieces of hard candy and glass everywhere, yet he didn’t hide, and he somehow fixed the whole situation. The manager didn’t even bat an eye. He was so transfixed on Freddie that he didn’t even make me pay for the mess.” My eyebrows scrunched in puzzlement. “Which, come to think of it, is quite odd. I mean, Freddie is pretty hot, but to be that mesmerized by him just seems a bit overkill…”

Emilia made a stop sign with her hand, interrupting my soliloquy. “Hold up, Alice.” Her cheeks bubbled up in an attempt to hold back a grin. “I have no idea what you are going on about, but I heard the name Freddie multiple times, and I haven’t seen you this excited about a man since your plan to find me a hookup last year.”

“Totally Em, and rightly so. He is freaking hot. Capital H hot. Like, melt an ice cube down those abs, hot.”

Emilia coughed up the water that she had just swallowed. “Um, what? You’ve seen him naked? You forgot to tell me that small detail.”

“Sadly, no,” I pouted. “Not yet, at least. But I can just imagine what he has hidden under his shirt if those forearms and jawline indicate anything.” My lower lip puckered at Emilia’s response. “I’ll take that laughter as agreement, missy.”

“Oh, sure. There is definitely a direct correlation between a six-pack and a defined jawline. Do tell me more about this absolute stud of a man.”

I ignored her sarcasm and eagerly continued. “He’s quiet and reserved, but he asks me questions about myself like he wants to know more. And not just your typical small-talk questions.”

“Alice, honey, that’s what a guy is supposed to do when he’s interested in you.”

“Yeah, well, it just seems like it’s been a while since someone took an interest in who I am beyond my looks.”

“As they should. You have so much to offer, and truthfully, you don’t need a man to tell you that you are amazing. You just need to see it yourself. Miss Gorgeous Fashion Consultant with a head of brains and a heart as big as your closet. Rian stole your confidence when he left, and that zealous, larger-than-life girl that we all love has gotten a bit weathered.”

I nodded, feeling the tears build in my eyes. I hadn’t felt like myself these last few months, and Emilia was pinpointing exactly what I had been feeling but hadn’t been able to put into words. I swiped my finger under my eye. No need to ruin a good makeup day. “Relationships bloody suck.”

Emilia laughed. “Yes, they do. And they are freaking complicated. Remember, you were the one who encouraged me to step outside my comfort zone and start a relationship with Theo, even when I was terrified to commit to something outside my music. And now I’m telling you, you don’t need a man. You are one hell of a woman on your own. But if you want one, well, find one that treats you right. Sounds like this Freddie guy might be one of those. But you do need to tell me more first, beyond the very obvious fact that he looks like a sex God.”

I eagerly spilled the details of yesterday afternoon, starting with the candy incident and the hour that followed. Freddie had helped me bring all the candy back to the bookstore and then we went for a walk around the village. Turns out Pippy had snuck a few pieces of candy and had some energy to burn off, and we didn’t want to say goodbye so soon. Freddie asked me all about my parents’ store and what my plans were to help get them back on their feet. We talked about our favorite Christmas traditions (mine was drinking non-alcoholic wassail with Scarlett as a kid while Dad and Mom put on a spectacular retelling of The Night Before Christmas, and his involved hour-long snowball fights with his sisters), which breakfast food we couldn’t live without (poached eggs on toast for him—blech—and banana french toast for me), and how we would survive if the internet suddenly broke (short answer—I’d be lost somewhere down an alley in London). He loved to ask me these random questions, scrunching his eyebrows at my response before nodding his head in acknowledgment. His answers were short, but he’d look at me after I’d share mine, like he was pondering every point I made, really giving it thought like I was some eighteenth-century philosopher. And, if you knew me, you knew I loved the attention.

Once we realized we would both be in London at the same time on Thursday, we agreed to meet up in the early evening to do some last-minute Christmas shopping and grab dinner. I had to admit, I was really looking forward to seeing him.

After Em and I finished our lunch, which Theo thankfully kept his paws away from, we said our goodbyes. I had one more stop before heading back to the hotel. I had promised I would help Dad with something at the shop, and I also needed to pick Pippy up. Mum was out on her weekly lunch date with her lady friends, so I knew Pippy would be safe from being dropped at the local pound. As the bookshop door slammed shut behind me, I called out, “Dad, I’m here.”

“By the fire, Alice,” his gentle voice said from the corner. I walked down the row of thrillers and sci-fi novels and found him sitting in the brown armchair by the fire, my sleeping fluff ball on his lap. One hand stroked Pippy’s back methodically, over and over, while the other extended over the armrest, a pipe securely resting in its palm.

“Dad, ew. You really shouldn’t be smoking that. Mum will kill ya if it doesn’t end you first. Plus, it’s stinking up the place.” I sat down next to him in the adjacent chair, waving my hand dramatically in the air.

He put the pipe between his lips and sucked in, holding the smoke inside for a few seconds before exhaling. Clearly not getting the message. “Some people find the smell comforting. It brings back fond memories of my pa smoking every night. You know, we only have about two more months left here, Alice. I’m sure you’ve heard that the damage and cleanup were more than we can manage. We didn’t want to tell you until after Christmas, but you know your mum’s friends. It’s hard to believe that they once were the biggest secret keepers in the village.”

His voice delivered the devastating news with the evenness of a rolling pin. But my hopeful heart only beat faster with excitement. “About that, Dad. I have this plan to—”

His voice changed tone, and the smoothness that usually defined it turned coarse. “Alice, stop. I know about your plans. That can’t be a surprise. And it’s a noble gesture. I know your giving heart always wants to help others with their troubles, but this is one thing that you can’t fix. Your ma and I have discussed it, and we won’t be taking any handouts.”

“But, Dad—”

He raised his hand to stop any more words from leaving my mouth. I sank into the seat, retreating back to the role of indignant child. It’s funny that no matter how many digits get added on to your age or how many corporations trust your opinion on how best to market their products, when you are back in your childhood home, facing a lecture from one of your parents, you suddenly transform into that sullen eight-year-old kid.

“You know, my pa died from black lung disease, but it wasn’t from the pipes he smoked. He worked in the coal mines of Bristol from a young age until the year that he died. It was grueling work. When he turned the pages of the books he read to us late at night, I would notice his stained fingertips and worry that he would soil my favorite stories.”

The flames from the fireplace reflected off his eyes as he stared solemnly into the light, rubbing the gray stubble on his face. “No matter how hard he scrubbed, the dust remained. I hadn’t given any thought to what it did to his lungs, even when he’d keel over in coughing fits.” He turned toward me. “And then one day, he died. And I grew up. I met your mum and found myself on the very same path as my pa, with a wife to support and dreams of raising a family. I worked long hours and saved every penny, and your mum took in people’s laundry and also worked harder than she should’ve. But we only had to do this for a few years. We found this building for pennies by total luck and God’s blessing, and we knew it would be perfect for a bookstore. A place where we could remember the sacrifices my pa made for me, my mum, and your aunt.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I never knew. You’ve never told me these stories. And Aunt Lily, well, she seemed so well-off when she came to visit. I had no idea of the struggles your family endured.”

“We all do what we need to survive. Your aunt married a fella who happened to have a lot of wealth but later learned that he gained it outside the perimeters of the legal system. Your mum and I chose a different path. We were resilient. We made sacrifices. We built this shop from our hard work and choices. And then we had your sister and you, and it all suddenly made good sense.”

He stopped stroking Pippy’s fur and held his hand out to me. I took the rough yet fatty palm in mine and gave it a squeeze. “So, you see. We don’t want charity. We began this on our own terms, and we’ll see it to the end our own way.”

I nodded my head as my dad’s words came to an end.

“I understand, Dad. I really do. I know you still see me as your little girl, and I always will be, but I’m a grown woman now. You don’t need to worry about Scarlett or me anymore. You’ve done it for so long. It’s time for you and Ma to let others take care of you.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I hadn’t meant to share this on this visit home when the wound was still fresh. But here it goes. “You know, Rian and I broke up. A few months ago, actually.” I stared at him, waiting for a reaction, but he merely nodded his head.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Your mother would want to know.”

I looked down sheepishly, suddenly ashamed of my omission. “I know.”

He took another long puff on his pipe. Even though he had just opened up to me, he wasn’t one to discuss emotions, especially ones that involved the men I was seeing. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay. At first, I didn’t tell you because it hurt too much to discuss it, but then I didn’t want to disappoint you and Mum. I know how much you loved Rian.”

He sighed. “Alice, it wasn’t Rian that we loved so much as it was seeing you so happy.”

Nodding my head, I replied, “And a part of me knows that. The point I’m trying to make is that we all try to hide our feelings from each other, not wanting to upset or disappoint the ones we love. But we are family, Dad. If we can’t trust each other with all of our messes, then who can we turn to?”

“You and Mum are lucky.” I continued. “Your family extends far beyond Scarlett and me. Your neighbors, the friends you’ve grown up with, the customers who visit every week looking for recommendations on what to read next—they love you. You’ve helped so many through tough times with a mere suggestion of a book title. And hell, if that didn’t work, you paired it with a bottle of wine. Now’s the time to let them—let us — help you.”

He stroked the whiskers on his chin, seemingly contemplating the words of wisdom his youngest daughter surprisingly dealt. “I’ll talk it over with your mum. But only if you talk to her about Rian.”

Unbelievable. Did I just get my stubborn father to consider changing his mind on something? I felt like I needed to do something physical to seal the deal, like a handshake or a hug. Maybe a signed document? Something to ensure he upheld his end of the deal. But before I could figure out what would work best, the bookstore door opened.

I gave Dad a quick kiss on the cheek, followed by a thank you whispered into his ear. “I’ll handle the customer if you handle the little one.” I gave a slight nod at Pippy as he tamped the end of the pipe and tried to dissipate the smell with a frantic wave of his hand, probably fearing his life in case it was Mum who entered the door. He quickly got up from his chair and scurried upstairs.