For Abe’s sixteenth birthday, Aunt Helen had given him a first edition, first issue of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. I’d walked past his room one night shortly after and saw him holding it with reverence. He wore white gloves, and the book itself was tucked inside a heavy plastic case.
“Really?” I said, stopping at his door.
“Do you know there are only two dozen surviving copies of this edition?” he asked without looking up. “I need a safety deposit box. I need a fireproof box. I need something really secure. It’s from 1865, Lottie. This is history.”
“Your popularity is history,” I said. I thought it was a pretty good comeback, but it prompted Abe to get up and shut his door.
“How long has he been at this?” I asked Amy.
“Oh, ever since I got here. He says there’s a really specific way you have to do it or else you’re basically playing bocce.”
“The poor man’s croquet!” Abe shouted from the other end of the lawn, where he was lying belly-down on the grass to check his work.
“Wow,” I said.
“You just have to go with it,” Amy said and knocked her shoulder against mine. “Are you doing okay, Lottie? It must have been tough to go back to her house.”
“I think everything will be tough for a while,” I said. “And then, I don’t know. Maybe it will get easier. Actually . . .” I lowered my voice, leaned a little closer to her. “Is my brother doing okay? He doesn’t really say.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t really say to me either. I think he was crying the other night, when he came to pick me up, but I knew he was trying to cover it, so I didn’t press him. I think I’m just waiting until he seems ready to talk about it. I hope that’s soon.”
“Abe is excellent at avoiding things he doesn’t want to talk about. He still won’t even acknowledge when the Doctor leaves Rose in that parallel universe.”
“Oh, I know,” Amy said. I could tell she was worried about him (the person currently licking his finger and holding it up to test wind direction, with not even the slightest bit of irony).
“He’ll open up eventually,” I said.
“I’ll let you know when he does.”
I left them to their afternoon shenanigans and went to pick up Em. I found her outside waiting for me, wearing an X-Files shirt I’d bought her off eBay that she’d cut into a crop top (she cut most shirts into crop tops). Her hair was messy, and she was wearing red lipstick and aviators.
“Hiya,” she said, getting into the car.
“You look cute.”
“You’re going to make me blush,” she said, fanning herself with her fingers.
“Are you sure you’re okay with spending your Sunday afternoon in a bookstore?”
“Oh, is that what we’re doing?”
“Page & Ink!”
“Is this . . . one of your aunt’s things?” she asked after a second, nervously, like maybe she wasn’t sure she was supposed to bring it up.
“Yeah. And it’s okay, you don’t have to ask like that. I’m the one who told you about them.”
“Well, I don’t know. I mean, I know it’s personal.”
“Well, yes, it’s one of my aunt’s things. She wants me to buy some books.”
“That’s great. I read stuff.”
“When was the last time you read a book?”
“I read that one about the girl!”
“Oh, the one about the girl! That’s a good one.”
“I hear your tone, and I resent it. Besides, I really like Page & Ink. My mom used to take me there before she decided I was a straight-up abomination.”
“Your mom doesn’t think you’re an abomination. She’s just . . . misguided.”
Em snorted. “You know what? Your mom’s taken me to Page & Ink too. Those are far better memories.”
Kester’s Coffee was across the street from Page & Ink. There wasn’t any traffic, and we pulled into the parking lot twenty minutes later.
“Do you want anything?” I asked Em.
“When I went to Scotland I had a scone with clotted cream. We don’t have clotted cream over here, so I can’t eat scones anymore,” Em said wistfully.
“So do you want . . . a muffin?” I asked.
“Maybe an iced tea?”
“Okay, weirdo. I’ll get you an iced tea.”
As per Aunt Helen’s letter, I got Clarice a small hot tea and a banana muffin. Then I got Em an iced tea and myself another banana muffin because they were the best banana muffins I’d ever had in my life. And then, on second thought, I got Em a banana muffin because she always said she didn’t want anything and then she ate half of whatever I got.
We ate our muffins and shared Em’s iced tea in the parking lot as I worked up the courage to drive across the street.
I wasn’t sure why I felt nervous about seeing Clarice, but I could feel a tight knot in my stomach, a growing uncertainty that didn’t seem to go away, no matter how delicious the banana muffins were.
“We should go over,” Em said when we’d finished eating. “Her tea’s going to get cold.”
I started the car and drove to Page & Ink’s parking lot. Clarice was outside, sweeping off the front walkway. When she heard the car, Clarice turned around and shielded her eyes with her hand, then waved when she saw it was us. She dropped the broom and headed over to the car.
Clarice had achondroplasia, the most common form of dwarfism. I knew this because she’d taken the time to explain it to me on one of my first visits. I still remember how happy she was, how she’d told my aunt that children were her favorite questioners, because they were completely honest and devoid of any judgment.
My favorite thing about Page & Ink was that it had one of those old-fashioned ladders you see in all the movies, the kind that rolled on a track along the perimeter of the store. This was mostly for practicality, Clarice said, but it was a bonus that it was really, really cool.
“Lottie!” Clarice said, hugging me the second I got out of the car. “I’ve been thinking about you all week. I wanted to come to the party last night, but I’ve never been one for dancing. Your aunt would have understood.” She pulled away and held both of my hands in hers, looking into my eyes as her own glossed over with tears. “Oh, your aunt. I’ve sold more copies of Alvin than I can even count this week. Been ordering all of them like crazy. Can’t keep ’em on the shelves. I put a picture of the two of us on the register, and people just burst into tears looking at it. Just start bawling.” She paused and touched the ends of my hair, pinching a few strands between her fingers. “Oh, Lottie. I miss her so much.”
“I miss her too, Clarice.”
“But enough sadness. I can’t handle any more sadness.”
“We have happiness for you! Happiness in the form of tea and banana muffins!” Em said, skipping around the car and handing Clarice her snack.
“Em! With blue hair! I didn’t even recognize you, but you look divine. You girls are too sweet for this,” Clarice said, beaming as she took the tea and paper bag from Em. “Come on, come in!”
We followed Clarice into the store, and she settled herself into place behind her desk so she could eat. She waved us away to browse and instructed us to yell if we needed anything.