Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“No,” Mari said, “you’re not.”
Josie felt her heart go out to the other woman, even though she didn’t know her story yet. All she knew was that Mari still clearly felt pain over it. “Your story was difficult, too, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, and it wasn’t cut and dried,” Mari confirmed. “In a nutshell, my father left me and my mother when I was three, because he had a problem with alcohol. My mother put up with him until the day he was supposed to be watching me, but he left the door wide open, and I managed to get out of our apartment. I was found crossing a busy road in Santa Monica.” She shuddered as though she could still feel the terror of a small child in such a terrible situation. “The sad thing was, I think I knew that he loved my mom and me, but he loved alcohol more.”
“That sounds like it must’ve been really hard for all of you.”
“It was, and I never heard from him again. Not until the day a lawyer called and told me that my father had left me his bookshop and the flat above it. It was a real shock. I knew he lived in England and had a bookstore, and a big part of me had always secretly wanted to come here and see where he lived and get to know him. But while I never did get the chance to know him in person, everyone on the island has told me so many stories about him—not only that he stopped drinking, but also how kind and gentle he was—that I truly felt like I was getting to know him after all.” She paused for a moment before adding, “And then I found the books he’d written.”
Josie’s eyebrows rose at that new piece of information. “Did you know he was a writer?”
“I had no idea. I only knew that he lived on Elderflower Island and owned the bookshop, because of research I’d done on the internet as a teenager. But no one knew he was writing. No one except Mathilda Westcott.” Josie smiled then. “He never tried to get them published while he was alive, but the stories are wonderful, so I pursued publication on his behalf. Kind of a way for us to be together, I suppose. Actually, I just got the very first copies from the publisher today, and I’ve been dying to show someone.”
Mari walked over to a cardboard box on the counter by the store’s cash register. She pulled out a hardcover children’s picture book. “My father wrote stories about the two of us. About things we did before he left and things he must have wished that we had done as I grew up. When I found his journals with the stories and illustrations, I knew they needed to be read by more than just me. Fortunately, Owen works in publishing, and he was able to connect me with a fantastic children’s picture book publisher. These are the very first copies of Mars at the Beach.” She hugged the book to her, glowing with happiness, before handing it to Josie. “If this book does well, there’s an entire series of them. Like Flying Kites With Mars and Playing Conkers With Mars.” Her voice grew husky. “Mars was his pet name for me. He even named the black cat who comes in and out of here Mars. It’s like a whole series of activities he’d have loved to do with me that we never did, so he wrote and illustrated these beautiful books.”
“I’m honored to be the first to see your father’s book.” Josie looked down at the charming illustration on the cover—a father and daughter building a sandcastle. “He was a good illustrator too. You don’t mind if I take a few minutes to read it?”
“Of course not. That’s what I live for. Later, we’ll talk about the space I’ve got to set up reading retreats in, but I need to go send a couple of quick emails anyway. So why don’t you enjoy reading for a while, and I’ll check back with you in a bit?”
It felt so perfect, Josie thought, curling up on this cozy leather armchair and getting to read a story that was so precious to someone she had just met. Soon, she was completely enthralled by the story. While the book never used the word divorce, it was clear Mars and her father didn’t live in the same house, but shared a special bond. They built sandcastles and skimmed stones on the water, and then the sun got low, and it was time for Mars to go home. Her final line was, “See you again soon, Dad.”
After hearing Mari’s history with her father, Josie’s eyes prickled with tears.
The story was sweet, the illustrations were adorable, and she loved every page of the book. If she had a child, she would love to read this to them at night. She could imagine a child whose parents had split up would find a lot of comfort in a book like this.