Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 73380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“You seem about as happy to babysit me as I am to be babysat.”
He rolls his eyes.
“Rafa, did I do something to you that made you dislike me?”
I’m not sure he’s surprised by the question.
“He likes you, that’s all.”
Is he jealous? He must see the confusion and surprise on my face because he shakes his head.
“I mean it gives his enemies a target. A way to hurt him.”
I study him and what I see in his eyes, it’s a war. Rafa is fighting some battle and I think Stefan and I and what we just discussed is a part of that battle.
I reach out and touch his hand. “You’re a good friend to him.”
He doesn’t reply, doesn’t even look at me.
“I’ll be in in a minute,” he finally says. “Just going to have a smoke.”
He’s dismissing me.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
He opens the door, steps out. “Fine.” He gestures to the door of the old shop and I go to it, push it open, hearing the bell over the door. The instant that door closes behind me, I’m transported to another world.
This is where my mom bought our gifts when we were growing up and after her death, for reasons I don’t wholly understand, my father kept up the tradition. He probably had someone do the shopping for him, but still, he did it. And even though the gifts were bitter sweet after mom died, they were still special.
“Gabriela Marchese?” comes a familiar voice. “Is that you?”
I look up at the register set on a raised, dark wooden platform, and through the high-quality puppets and dolls and old-fashioned register, I see Mr. Poe.
I smile, go to him.
“Mr. Poe, you’re still working the register?” I ask as the tiny man walks around the counter, down the steps and toward me. He’s gotten older, the big bush of curly black hair now salt-and-pepper. And he’s slightly hunched, which makes him appear even shorter than his five feet.
“Well, well,” he says, hands on his hips, looking me over from head to toe. “Gabriela, I don’t believe it. All grown up.” He leans in to hug me and I hug him back. “I knew you’d be a beauty, but my goodness!”
When we separate, he holds onto my hands and spies the rings on my wedding finger.
“Some lucky man already snatched you up? I’m not surprised,” he says. He touches the diamond. “He values you.”
I’m not sure about that last part. Maybe?
“You’re blushing, my dear. Tell me how you’ve been.”
We spend the next fifteen minutes talking. Well, I do most of the talking while he listens. When he hands me a piece of candy from the old-fashioned jar he still keeps on the counter, it takes me back in time.
“What can I do for you?” he asks as I look at that candy, unwilling to eat it, not sure I’ll be able to without breaking down. Being in here reminds me of my mom. Of when things were good.
“I’m here for Gabe’s half-birthday gift,” I say.
I see the flash of something like regret that crosses his features. “How is your brother? I remember how rambunctious he was when your mother would bring him in here to pick out a new toy.”
“He’s doing all right. I’m going to move him to Sicily so we’ll be closer together.”
“Are you all the way in Sicily now? Such a long way from your father.”
I just smile.
“Well, come on now. I seem to recall a particular toy train your brother loved and there’s a new model. You think he’ll like it?” he asks, taking me to the section of trains.
I pick up the box he points to. “I think he’ll love it. And maybe something for painting? It’s his new hobby, it seems.”
“Well, painting is good for the soul. I have just the thing.”
Stefan gave me his credit card to pay for the things and it’s weird doing so. Weird to use his money. Will I always be dependent on him?
Mr. Poe wraps the packages carefully, choosing special paper and huge bows for the boxes. As I gather the packages in my arms, I think how happy Gabe will be. How surprised. I never told him I was coming. And I can’t wait to get there.
“One more thing,” Mr. Poe says as I’m readying to say goodbye. He goes behind the counter and rummages through a cabinet beneath the register. I hear him mutter and a moment later, his head pops up. “Here we are.”
He walks back around the counter toward me and holds out his hand. I look down at the small ring on his finger.
“What’s this?” I ask, touching the dragon shape.
“A mood ring. I remember you loved these when you were little.”
I take it from him, smiling. “I haven’t seen one of these in ages.”
“You used to tell me you’d know when someone was lying when you wore one.”