“I’m sure they will,” she said.
“It’s good to see where we’ve come from. This creepy stuff is living medical history. Someone has to take care of it. It’s all been cataloged. My alma mater is getting it when I’m gone. Unless you want it?” he said with a raised eyebrow.
“No, thank you. I know it was used to help people, but they can have the saws covered in Civil War soldier blood. I’m good.”
“Your loss, kiddo.”
He turned back to his work but stopped and looked over at her with a furrowed brow again. “Didn’t I tell you not to show your face until morning?”
“It’s after midnight,” she said.
“Doesn’t count. There are hotels in Portland, you know. Nice ones.”
“Oh, we got a hotel room. We rented it for an hour.”
He gave her a dirty look. “And this is the girl I want for my monk of a son?”
“I told you not to match make,” she said.
“Can’t help it,” he said as he tossed some more papers in the basket and dropped a match in. “I need something to think about other than my impending demise.”
The papers in the files must have been old because the match caught quickly and fire leapt up. In short order they turned black and gray and shrunk to mere ash.
“You’ll be happy to know then that your son and I are crazy about each other. And I have a pretty good feeling a certain monastery is going to be short one monk by Christmas.”
“Is that so?” Dr. Capello asked, leaning on the filing cabinet and grinning broadly at her.
“That’s so. We had a long talk tonight.”
“Excellent news.”
“Thought you’d like that,” Allison said.
Dr. Capello looked up at the ceiling and heaved a sigh, his eyes closed. For a moment, it seemed he was a man of prayer expressing intense gratitude and relief. She forgave him the lie about Oliver. This was a man who wanted nothing but to see his children happy.
“It gives me peace.” He placed his hand over his heart and patted it twice. “A lot of peace.”
“Good,” she said. “It’s making me a nervous wreck but as long as you’re happy...”
He laughed. “You’ll be sticking around then? Even after I kick the bucket.”
“Oh, can we not talk about that, please?”
“Let’s say I get hit by a bus tomorrow and that’s what does me in. Would you, even when I’m a greasy spot under a bus wheel, stick around here?”
Allison exhaled heavily. Fair question.
“Probably,” she said. “For a little while, anyway. All my stuff’s back at my apartment, and I’ve got no idea what I’d do out here, but maybe I could find a job in Astoria or Clark Beach. Know anyone who needs a professional poetry reciter?”
He grinned at her. “I have a better idea. Come down to my room with me.”
“You’re done playing with matches?”
“All done,” he said as he dumped a bottle of water into the wastepaper basket to extinguish every last spark of flame. “I want to show you something.”
Allison waited for Dr. Capello to go down the stairs but he waved her down first.
“Go slow,” he said. “These old legs are getting weaker by the minute.”
She went as slow as she could, step by step, Dr. Capello right behind her in case he stumbled, his hand on her shoulder to steady himself. At least his grip was still good and strong. The Man of Steel wasn’t done for yet.
They went into his bedroom. Dr. Capello paused in the center of the plaid rug and tugged the hairs of his beard.
“Now, where’d that laptop of mine go...” he said.
She saw it. It stuck out from under a throw pillow on his bed. He sat in the armchair and she gave him his computer.
“What are you going to show me?” she asked.
“Hold your horses, I’m pulling it up. There.” He turned the laptop around and showed her a photograph on the screen. “Like it?” he asked, smiling like a child.
It was a gray shingle building, one-story with a wide, white front porch and a picture window painted with the words Clark Beach Books.
“It’s a bookstore,” she said. “I like it already.”
“You want it?”
Allison’s eyes went wide.
“What?”
“Would you like to own a bookstore in Clark Beach?”
Allison stared at him. “Is this a trick question?”
“No. Especially since I already know the answer. The owners were planning to sell and retire in four years. They’ll happily get out a little early for the right price. I can give them the right price.”
“You can give them the right price,” she said, her voice dull to her own ears. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“I bought Deacon and Thora The Glass Dragon. And Roland’s inheriting this house. Gotta give you a building, too. Fair is fair.”
“Not fair,” she said, waving her hand. “Deacon and Thora and Roland are your children.”
“And you were my child for over four years.”
“Yes, thirteen years ago.”
“And now you’re back, doll. And you’re going to stay here with my son. And if you’re going to stay here with my son, I want you to have a job that gives you as much joy and satisfaction as my work gave me—as you kids gave me. You told Deacon owning a bookstore in a little town like Clark Beach is your dream? Well, here you go, dream come true.”
He nudged the laptop forward, and Allison stared long and hard at the photograph. It was a beautiful little building. It even had a porch swing where people could sit and read in good weather. She had that fifty thousand dollars from McQueen burning a hole in her suitcase. That would be enough to live on while she got the bookstore up and running.
“You can change the name,” Dr. Capello said. “Anything you like. Allison’s Books. Oceanside Bookstore.”
“Pandora’s Books,” Allison said.
Dr. Capello nodded his approval. “It’s two blocks from the ocean,” he said. “And right next to an ice-cream shop.”
“You’re trying to seduce me.”
“It’s working, isn’t it?”
“This has to be insanely expensive,” she said.
“I can afford it. And it’s not like I need money where I’m going.”
“Your kids may need it.” The upkeep on The Dragon alone would be a huge figure.
“Yes, and you’re one of my kids,” Dr. Capello said. He leaned forward and took her hand in his and held it gently. “Let me do this for you. If it hadn’t been for my negligence, you would never have had to leave. Let me make it up to you. And on top of that—for years I’ve been nursing a broken heart over my son joining the monastery instead of finding a nice girl. All I ever wanted for him was to find someone to love him, someone he can love and have a normal, happy life with. You’ve made a dream of mine come true. Let me return the favor.”
She was tempted to say yes right then and there. So tempted. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Not yet. Not without talking to Roland first. Allison would never forgive herself for taking financial advantage of an ill and elderly man, no matter how lucid he might seem.
“Can I think about it?” she asked.
“You can, but don’t take too long. I don’t have much more time. I’d like to see you settled here and happy before I move along.”
She looked at him and he shrugged.
“No use pretending.”
“Whatever I decide,” she said, “thank you. This is the kindest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me.”
“The kindest thing you could do for me is accept it.”
“I’ll get back to you about it quickly,” she pledged. “I... It’s just a lot to think about, never going back to Kentucky, owning my own small business.”
“No denying it’ll be work. But maybe you can talk a certain ex-monk we know into helping out. He’s great at heavy lifting.”
Allison came off the bed and wrapped her arms around Dr. Capello’s thin shoulders and held him for a good long time.
“Thank you, Dad.”