“Alex.”
“Hi.”
She looked at me as though she were checking whether I was real.
“What are you doing here?”
I suddenly felt twenty years younger and completely unprepared for the conversation I had rehearsed all morning.
“I came to buy a book.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“You hate reading fiction.”
“I’ve decided to become a better person.”
She smiled, but her eyes were cautious.
“That’s a very ambitious project.”
“I know. I thought I’d start with something manageable.”
“Like a short book?”
“Like saying hello to someone I’ve missed.”
Her smile faded.
For several seconds, the sounds of the bookstore seemed to grow distant.
Then she looked toward the counter.
“Come with me.”
She led me into the little reading corner at the back. Two comfortable chairs stood beside a small round table, just as she had planned them months earlier.
She sat down.
I remained standing until she gestured toward the other chair.
