The Book Stops Here

“Are you certain?” I asked. She didn’t appear to be a wealthy woman, so I decided I’d better make sure. “It’s a lot of money. I don’t want to empty your bank account.”

 

 

“You won’t,” she insisted. “As long as you guarantee that I’ll get an extra couple thousand on the book when I sell it. Can you do that?” Her eyes narrowed suddenly. “I can trust you, right?”

 

I almost laughed. She didn’t know me from Adam, so why would she trust me to give her an honest answer? But I wasn’t about to lie to her. “Yes, I promise you can trust me, but you don’t have to. I can give you some references before I take your money. I can also give you a list of bookbinders who can offer a second opinion.”

 

She closed her eyes and pressed her hands together as if she were praying. “Just tell me again that I can sell it for the price you quoted.”

 

I smiled. “Unless the world turns upside down tomorrow, I can pretty much guarantee it. And as I mentioned before, I can also give you the names of some reputable buyers in town who would be interested in looking at it.” Like Ian, I thought. He would kill to add this book to the Covington children’s collection.

 

She patted her chest again and took a slow, deep breath. Then she clapped her hands and let out a little shriek of joy. “Thank you! This is like a dream come true.”

 

As I watched her bounce with delight, I noticed something odd. Her bubbly black bouffant hairdo seemed to shift slightly.

 

Is she wearing a wig?

 

I looked away, but from the corner of my eye I caught her surreptitiously tugging at her bangs.

 

That was so weird. But maybe she’d been sick. Maybe she’d lost all her hair. Maybe that’s why she needed the money. I hated to stare so I busied myself with straightening my short stack of reference books. After a few seconds, I tried to be nonchalant. “I still can’t believe you found this amazing book at a garage sale.”

 

She glanced at the ceiling and around the room. “Gosh, I can’t either. The guy I got it from didn’t seem to know much about it.”

 

“He couldn’t have,” I said firmly. “He wouldn’t have given away a treasure like this for so little money.”

 

“No, I guess not,” she murmured. “Lucky for me.”

 

I checked my watch. We’d been talking for ten minutes and I needed to get back to work. “Why don’t I take the book home and look it over, then call you with an estimate? You’ll have some time to catch your breath and figure out whether you want to spend the money or not.”

 

She nodded. “That sounds good.”

 

“If you decide not to go through with it, we can meet somewhere and I can return the book to you, no problem.”

 

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she said, and, reaching into a pocket of her faux tiger-skin tote bag, she pulled out a shiny green business card.

 

We both stood and she handed the card to me. “I own a flower shop at Nineteenth and Balboa in the Richmond.”

 

I read the card. VERA’S FLOWER GARDEN. VERA STODDARD, PROPRIETOR. I looked back at her. “That’s a pretty name for a shop.”

 

“Thank you. I love flowers.”

 

I was familiar with the Richmond District so I knew I wouldn’t have any trouble finding it. “I’ll call you with my estimate in the next day or two. Then, depending on which way you decide to go, I can either drop off my invoice and pick up a check, or I can simply return the book to you.”

 

“Sounds perfect.”

 

“And, like I said, you’re welcome to get a second opinion.”

 

She giggled as she reached for the doorknob. “You sound like a doctor.”

 

“I probably do, but bookbinding isn’t cheap.” I followed her out. “And I want you to be happy with the final product.”

 

She looked over her shoulder at me. “They wouldn’t have hired you for this show if you weren’t the best in town.”

 

“Thanks,” I said, feeling my cheeks grow warm with the compliment. “I appreciate that.”

 

Before I knew what was happening, she let out a little squeal and came click-clacking back to me. She threw her arms around me and whispered, “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“You don’t understand,” she said in a breathless hush as she stepped back. “I’ve met some real meanies during my lifetime, but everyone here has been so nice, especially you. I’m just bowled over.”

 

“Thank you, Vera. That’s really sweet.”

 

“Well, I just think I should let people know when they’ve been helpful and kind.” She frowned and pressed her lips together. “I had a really awful man in my life for a while, so I know the difference between nice and not so nice.”

 

“I hope you got rid of him,” I said.

 

“You bet I did.” She laughed self-consciously. “I’d better stop bending your ear and get out of here.”

 

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