Publishable By Death by Andi Cumbo-Floyd (reading like a writer TXT) 📖

The book buyers kept on coming, and I lost myself in recommending books – Rick Riordan’s Egyptian series for a pre-teen boy who liked reading, but only if it was adventure, then Sarah Vowell’s Wordy Shipmates for a history buff who appreciated a wry and witty critique, and finally Toni Morrison’s Paradise to the woman who loved Morrison but only knew her most popular books. “Paradise is my favorite. I especially love that it’s about a group of powerful women,” I said. She bought a copy for herself and one for her best friend.

Between customers, I tried to keep the shelves full – or at least looking so. Our magazine rack looked like a turkey skeleton after Thanksgiving, and the true crime shelves were almost bare. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about inventory for tomorrow’s street fair, but when the sun started to set, the crowd thinned out. I thought I’d get a minute to think, but Cate and Lucas came in.

I must have looked about like I felt because Cate gave me a once over, turned to Lucas, and said, “Yep. This calls for soup in a bread bowl.”

Just the idea of hot soup and yeasty bread made me salivate. I had never gotten around to lunch, and my body needed nourishment. Nourishment and rest. “That sounds amazing, but I have to figure out what I’m going to do about books for tomorrow. We don’t have enough stock to do a bargain table on the sidewalk. I have the ‘mystery’ books for folks to buy, but the rest of my inventory really needs to stay in here. Otherwise, I’m afraid people will think we’re going out of business.”

Cate pointed to the chair in the fiction section and gestured for me to sit. Then, she started rubbing her index finger against her thumb while she turned in circles.

“She okay?” I asked Lucas.

He smiled. “Oh yes. This is her thinking ritual.”

Cate turned a few more times, and then she stopped and looked at me. “I have an idea.”

“See? Told you.” Lucas said as he looked from his wife to me.

I laughed. “You two are cute.”

They both rolled their eyes, thus confirming my comment. “Okay, what’s this idea?”

“Used books.”

“But—“

“Before you object. Yes, you are a new book bookstore, but for this purpose, wouldn’t it be fun to just have a bunch of miscellaneous books, all for one dollar, let’s say. People could pick up titles for themselves, for their friends, for the Little Free Library boxes that are so wonderfully cropping up everywhere.”

I considered the idea for a moment. “Okay, I can get on board with that. It does sound fun, but where do we get all these books?”

Lucas laughed so loudly that several people in the shop turned to look at him. “Are you ready?”

“Ready? Ready for what?”

Cate blushed. “Well, I have a basement full of books. Hundreds, maybe thousands of books. I’d love to donate them, maybe have the proceeds go to the scholarship fund?”

I sat up very straight in my chair. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I have about a million questions. First, you have thousands of books in your basement? How does this happen? I mean I love books, obviously, but thousands? Are they boxed up? On shelves?” I turned my head to look at my friend out of the corner of my eye. “Or is this one of those hoarding scenarios where I’d have to turn sideways and not touch anything lest I be buried alive next to Sasquatch’s predecessor?”

“What’s this about being buried alive?” Mart’s voice was a little high-pitched. I guess even joking about death was a little too close to home right now.

Lucas said, “Harvey is just marveling at the fact that my wife has been accumulating books for decades.”

Cate smiled. “Accumulating is the nice way of putting it. I adore books, especially art books, and I’ve never been able to part with a book once I brought it home. So the basement is lined with bookshelves, all sorted by subject.”

“And you want to part with them now?” I had a pretty sizable book collection myself – not that sizable but still – and I was very selective about what books I gave away. I loved Cate’s idea, but I wanted to be sure she actually loved it.

“I do. Actually, I’ve been talking about it for a long time. I want to set up a studio in the basement, but I need more natural light. To get more natural light, I need more windows. To get more windows, I have to have walls . . . and right now, every wall is covered with a bookshelf.”

Lucas looked at me and said, “It’s time. Please, please accept this offer. I’m tired of having to eat dinner on a TV tray because a painting is drying on the dining room table.” He got down on his knees and clasped his hands together in front of me. “Take the books, Harvey. Please.”

I cracked up. These two people made me very happy. I looked at Cate. “If you’re sure.”

“Totally.” She headed toward the door, and then looked back at Lucas. “You coming? We have books to sort.”

“I guess we’re leaving, but come by after you close up. I’ll have potato soup – with bacon, I presume? – in a sour dough bread bowl for you. You, too, Mart. ”

I had loved a lot of things about San Francisco, but soup in a bread bowl – that was one of my favorites. “Yes to the bacon, please,” I looked at Mart who was nodding her head like she was one of those bobblehead dolls in the back window of a car on a back road. “We’ll see you later,” I called after Cate and Lucas.

“My word,” Mart said. “So we need to get some tables?”

“Oh crap. I hadn’t even thought about tables.” Here I was recommending that people put out tables with specials for the fair, and I didn’t even have a table myself, much less enough tables to hold hundreds, maybe thousands of Cate’s books.

Mart already had her phone out. “No worries. I got this.” As I got up to tidy up the store and help Marcus ring up the last few customers, Mart slid into the chair without even looking up from her phone. She had this.

By the time we closed up, we’d had 1,854 visitors to the store – maybe a few more since I was in the back for a bit with Daniel. And a quick run of the register tally showed I’d made more that day than I had in all the days before combined. I was giddy. Giddy and exhausted.

All I wanted was that soup in a bread bowl, a big cup of tea, and my bed. But we still had prep to do for the next day. At least I thought we had prep to do. “Okay, we’re all set. Tables, extra coffee carafes, more cups and plates, and a supply of St. Boudreau’s best wine will be here at nine a.m. Anything else we need? My boss is happy to help.”

I just stared at her for a minute while my brain tried to process what she’d just said. “We’re having wine?”

“Yep, I’ll be serving as an employee of the winery – just tastings – but we’ll have bottles for sale, too. Thought it might get a little more foot traffic.”

I felt the smile on my face, and I was very excited . . . but the idea that even more people would be coming to my store left me a little stupefied. The shock slowly gave way to panic. “Mart, where are we going to put all these things?”

“Got that under control, Ms. B,” Marcus said as he dropped beside me on the floor. “I did a sketch.” He handed me a sheet of printer paper with what looked like a to-scale drawing of the store.

The wine would be in the front of the café against the windows to draw people in but not impede the flow for pastry eaters and coffee drinkers. Then, we’d shift the café tables into the main part of the shop, giving people places to sit and rest with their wine or coffee but also keeping the space open in the café itself. Then, Cate’s books would be on long tables all across the front and the side of the store that opened onto a parking lot. Mart had secured permission from the garden center next door to use the edge of their lot since it was a bit early for them to have much merchandise, but they had also assured her that they would do their part and have as many flowering shrubs as they could out on the street to draw people over.

I studied the plan and let out a hard sigh. It was all under control. “Thank you all so much. I feel like I say this all the time, but really, I couldn’t do this without you.” I blew Rocky a kiss as she and