Page 84 of The Love of My Afterlife
“Well, we are at the start of our relationship, so I don’t have it figured all the way out yet. Although I suspect you may have come into my life as my grumpy friend. The one I have to work hard to soften, but can never quite manage to. We’ve already made great progress—the first day I met you, you scowled the whole time. Today you have only scowled once! You will teach me the art of perseverance, I expect.”
I laugh at his blatant main character energy and continue on with my request. “Anyway.I want to hold a little party for Mr. Yoon. Something to celebrate him and to also introduce him to some of the neighbourhood locals.”
“My grumpy friend with a centre as soft as honey, it seems,” Aled says thoughtfully. “I’ll be there. Just let me know where and when.”
“Well, no, that’s the thing. I was hoping we could hold it here…in the music room specifically. Mr. Yoon used to play the violin, so I know he likes music. And it’s such a beautiful space.”
“Hmm. I mean, we would have to put in a formal request. Luckily for you, I am the one who decides, and I can tell you right now that it’s going to be ayesfrom me. When are you thinking? September? October? December is tricky because of Christmas bookings, but perhaps on a weekday?”
“Actually, I was thinking tomorrow. Which I know is ridiculously short notice, but I’m going away for a bit, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. So I’m in somewhat of a rush.”
Aled grimaces. “Holding such a short-notice party here atthe library would be against all of the rules. And libraries mean nothing without rules.”
“It wouldn’t be for long,” I plead. “A couple of hours at most. And not more than ten people, probably. It would be super low-key. And tomorrow is Sunday—the rest of the library will be closed, so we could keep it a secret.” I press my hands together. “Please,” I ask, my voice cracking. “The music room is so beautiful and youarethe mighty keeper of the keys.”
Aled presses a hand to his chest and looks around before leaning towards me and whispering, “I am indeed the mighty keeper of the keys, and while technically this is against all the rules and I could possibly get fired, I do owe you.”
“You owe me?” My eyebrows shoot up.
“Frida,” he says. “We’ve been texting nonstop. She is a delight. Did you know she can speak four different languages? And that she has a qualification in dog grooming?”
“Um, no,” I say, impressed. “I haven’t known her very long. We only hung out briefly.”
“Delphie, she is wonderful. It’s early days but I have a feeling she may turn out to be more than my most beautiful new friend. I mean, not that you aren’t beautiful. But…” He turns red.
“Chill.” I pat his arm lightly. “Frida is gorgeous, I know. And genuinely lovely.”
“She truly is, right? When you come back from wherever you’re going, we must all do something together! Oh, we could invite R. L. Cooper too! Wouldn’t that be fun?”
I swallow down a lump in my throat as I realise that the thought of doing something like that doesn’t fill me with horror the way it certainly would have done last week. It actuallysounds like it would be fun. Nope. Not helpful to even consider that.
“Is three p.m. tomorrow okay?” I say. “No more than ten to fifteen people?”
Aled nods, and clasps my hands. “I have never broken the rules before,” he says in a giddy voice.
I clasp his hands back and give them a squeeze. “Well, Aled, maybe it’s time we live a little.”
38
On the way back from the library, I call Mr. Yoon’s GP, Dr. Garden, who tells me that it’s completely inappropriate to ask him to socialise with patients. Then I dip into the dry cleaner’s, where the couple who run the place look at me like I’m an idiot when I invite them to a last-minute party for a stranger. While their rejection prickles a little bit, it’s cushioned by an eager acceptance from the sequin-vested barman from The Orchestra Pit who—when I call the bar—tells me his name is Flashy Tom.
I head to the pharmacy, where Leanne and Jan are immediately well up for the idea of a party. They’ve never met Mr. Yoon, but according to Leanne, although I rarely talk at work, when I do, it’s Mr. Yoon this and Mr. Yoon that. “Mr. Yoon needs some decent-quality bananas, so I’ll take an extra five minutes on lunch to get them from the farmers’ market. Mr. Yoon has a vinyl record of Kylie Minogue, and I keep wondering how it got there because when I put it on, he put his hands over his ears.” So they’re excited to meet him because—as Jan puts it—he feels like a local celebrity to them.
As I return her costume from the gala, Leanne asks aboutthe dress code. I tell her that it’s smart casual, to which she gives a disappointed grunt. “You don’t want a theme?” she asks. “Another costume party? Maybe…Disney? You could have a Disney theme?”
I picture Mr. Yoon’s face seeing a roomful of strangers dressed up as cartoon characters. The face is disdainful.
“We’re keeping it low-key,” I say before asking if they can recommend any other people who might be interested in attending a party for someone who they don’t know but if they met, would surely like. Jan mentions Deli Dan at Baba’s Deli down the road. She goes to the deli every lunchtime to get our sandwiches, and it’s clear she has a little crush on him. I, however, have never met him. I feel the usual nerves at the thought of going to talk to someone completely new, but I haven’t got any option except to get on with it—the more locals I can get to come, the more potential people Mr. Yoon can rely on in my absence. Plus I’ve been through way scarier things this past week.
On the way to Baba’s Deli at the end of the road, I decide to nip into the other shops on the row in the hopes that some of those people might be interested in the party. First up is the mini-mart. The surly teenage girl with her nose ring and thick black eyeliner is the model of my perfect shop assistant because she never ever tries to make conversation with me. She audibly gasps when I march up to the counter and invite her to a party. She stutters and looks around.
“Are you talking to me?” she says, looking behind her in confusion.
“I am,” I say. “Do you know Mr. Yoon?”
She shakes her head no. I suppose she wouldn’t. She musthave been a baby when Mr. Yoon was still out and about around these parts.
“Well, he’s a lovely old man who could do with a few friends. He’s been a little unwell and I thought it might cheer him up to have a few local people round to the library to, you know, celebrate him. I know it’s a weird ask.”
