The Book Of Love
Had Lila Taylor known the fate waiting her outside her door that morning, she would have pulled the covers back over her head, dismissed the cat’s complaining entirely, and ignored the flood on the first floor. But you see, Lila wasn’t expecting anything life changing to happen to her. Why you might ask? Because nothing exciting ever happens in Endsville, Colorado. More
Had I known the fate waiting for me outside the safety of my house, I would have pulled the covers back over my head, dismissed the cat’s complaining entirely, and ignored the flood on the first floor.
But then, I wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen. After all this was Endsville, Colorado and in Endsville, nothing much ever really changes.
I parked my beat-up Jeep in front of Love The Book bookstore that my family had owned for decades. It was barely September and already a record amount of snow had fallen leaving the roads treacherous. The snowplow had managed to pile up a stack of the wet stuff in front of the store.
Somehow, I managed to maneuver my bad foot out of the Jeep without causing any further damage. The temperature outside bordered on reaching an all-time low. Most of the weathermen around the state agreed on one thing. This year had all the makings of being the worst winter in decades.
I hobbled up the icy steps that needed deicing and fumbled with the lock on the door while trying to ignore the pain in my ankle. Mentally I ticked off all the things I needed to be doing today, other than going to the minor emergency center that is. There was the bank deposit, which was already late, followed by returning the wrong shipment of books that arrived late yesterday afternoon. I’d need to get them to the UPS store today if I had any chance at getting the right ones in time for Christmas. Oh and let’s not forget the travel section that had needed reorganizing for weeks now. This was my least favorite thing to do and the real reason why it had taken so long to work up enough gumption to attempt the task.
After yesterday’s disaster, things had continued to snowball into what I liked to refer to as my morning from hell. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage to get even one of those much-needed chores accomplished with an injured ankle.
The worst part of it all was poor Mr. Edwards was going to be disappointed again today. He’d been expecting his copy of the newly released mystery novel last week, and he wasn’t at all happy when I’d told him it was had been delayed for another week. Now this. Two-dozen copies of the same romance novel from an author I’d never even heard of before. And judging from what I’d read of her work as I’d flipped through the pages last night, I wouldn’t be hearing from her again.
I’d dreaded having to face Mr. Edwards today and tell him the bad news. The old guy wasn’t the most patient person around this small town.
After the disaster with the romance novels, I’d completely forgotten to make the bank deposit. As it was, I’d need to close the store for an hour just to get to the bank on time. Otherwise, I’d have checks bouncing all over town.
I just had time to flip the lights on and fire-up the coffeemaker for my first cup of much needed coffee when the bell above the front door announced the inevitable.
“I’ll be right with you, Mr. Edwards,” I called out while silently hoping I’d find him in a bit more understanding mood this morning.
Had he actually been waiting for me to arrive?