Later Faun was to feel quite mentally discombobulated over her thoughts of how their coffee together ended. It was again the sudden interruption with that otherworldly ring tone.
She lay in bed staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep as she went over in her mind the day’s events. First meeting Grant and then their conversations that left her wondering what she had gotten herself into by ever renting this place. How did she become suddenly embroiled in this bookshop mystery? —her unlikely landlords from England. But they had been so charming, the day she met them at the house when they showed it to her, pulling up in a green MG, Arthur Bishop, somewhere in his mid seventies but not at all ill looking, dressed smartly in casual business attire and well groomed. Fiona Bishop, also smartly dressed in a floaty, floral-pastel-colors dress and high heels and about the same age by all appearances but both such a happy couple.
After they had showed her the apartment she wound up signing the lease right away and then they got to chatting about books. When they learned of her years as a bookstore manager they invited her to join them for tea at their house. It had been so spontaneous, Faun adored both of them immediately and they talked for hours about so many things…. And it was not long before it became a habit to stop by for tea, bumping into them often during her local walks around town.
And now all this that has happened since…. it was the sirens that alerted her that day. She was just walking down their street and she saw the ambulance. She ran over to Fiona who was in tears and asked her if she could feed their dog and let their dog out, handing Faun the house key as she got in the ambulance with her husband.
Such a terrible shock. She felt so awful—and poor Fiona; her heart went out to her…. it was the least she could do for them, it never occurred to Faun not to jump in to help…. and put her own life on hold.
Her own life…. what was that again? Did she actually have one of those….but, she was not dead….so, maybe it’s time she got one ….her thoughts tumbled and reproached her.
After two weeks at the shop—tonight….she meets Grant and …. showing up how he did —somehow ….it was unexpected —as if it allowed her to be more open to chance. She would never have spoken to anyone like Grant if not for the bookshop. And the Bishops. Like Grant….
It was something there as if even before he appeared —as if he was always already there. A strange familiarity; as if wired to his frequency —no matter if the way he spoke was like being pulled under a charm, the words a tangle but the meaning clear by his tone. Yes, it was his tone that nearly sang and his eyes that at once were fierce and troubled and then intense but kind.
And how he asked her what was she thinking….had caught her off guard. Nobody ever asked her what she was thinking. Nobody ever seemed to care. But the way he looked at her when he asked her— made her aware that he really wanted to know.
Why?
And then when he said that he knew ….what did he mean? That he knew she was upset that she thought he’d only asked her for coffee to ask for that favor—the manager job.
And then his phone rang. That way. The otherworldly ringtone.
Immediately she had stood up,
“Oh, I should go—you should take your call—“ and she didn’t wait; she just grabbed her clutch bag and darted—half ran through the sitting room, past the salmon velvet couches for the door, “bye!”
And out the door and down the front path, past the overgrown garden and front gate. She was still running down the concrete driveway, her long green paisley skirt getting tangled and caught in her long legs, and it was not until she ran past her yellow Volvo that she slowed down. She took a deep breath and paused a moment ….realizing she did not want to hear him answer the call; she didn’t want to know; didn’t want to care; why should it matter anyway?
Her apartment had its own stone walkway that was lined with hedges, allowing it some privacy. It also had its own porch that faced a back landscaped area with a sundial and a bench where sometimes she sat to read. But tonight she just ran up the steps of the porch and quickly unlocked the door, and shut it behind her, determined to have put it all behind her. What was the point anyway? He had his real job back home. And who ever that was on the phone. He had no room for her and no need.
It was hours later before she fell asleep.
The next day at the bookshop she busied herself at the shop. There were always a million things to do there and it occurred to her that if she was to run the shop, she could use a hand. When school let out the two girls came bustling in with their usual jabber and Faun had their espressos ready before they had time to ask.
“How would you girls like to work for me?” Faun asked them, and opened a bag of popcorn and poured it in a bowl putting it in front of them
And by the time they were ready to run home and start homework, they had agreed to ask their parents to sign the working consent form; Fridays after school and Saturdays ten until six
And as they were leaving, she saw Grant standing in the doorway between the classical fiction area and philosophy which lead to the back of the store towards the cellar doorway to the stairs. Had he been down there all day? she wondered.
He stood there looking at her a moment. Today she wore a burgundy color dress with little ballet pumps that had buttons on the side and emphasized her little feet and well shaped narrow ankles that lead up the long legs which again he was caught by even as the skirt stopped below the knee. The way it swooshed each time she moved and fell in long folds across her belly and from hip to knee was bewildering to him.
“Why did you run out last night?” he stood there asking her
She had been holding an old cloth bound book, Henry David Thoreau—and it simply fell out of her fingers. It dropped in a thud onto the floor. But first on her foot.
“Ouch — “ she looked up but he was already in front of her, bending down to pick it up
She didn’t know what to say so by the time he stood up and looked back at her, she just looked back at him blankly
“You didn’t have to,” he said
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