Page 10 of The Troublemaker
They share a look I can’t decipher, one of those silent exchanges that never means anything good.
“Well, Pete finally peed this morning, so that’s good news.”
“Oh Pete!How is he?”I ask.
Whit shakes his head slightly behind Vera’s back.
“He’s great,” Vera says, looking ecstatic.
Whit cringes.
“Still kickin’ at twenty-one.”Vera smiles and goes behind the counter, writing something on a note.
“Whoa, is that a record?”
“Let’s get started, Hadley.I have to get to work.”Whit moves toward the hallway.
“No.Thirty-eight.I think Pete is going to beat it, though.”Vera doesn’t glance up.
Whit shakes his head again.“Vera, we’ll be in the office if you need us.”He takes out a coffee and places it on the counter.“Cream, no sugar.And—” He pulls out a bagel.“Plain bagel with sriracha cream cheese.”
“You’re the best.You’re so lucky to have such a sweet brother.Brea had good sense to snatch you up when she did.”Vera wastes no time in unwrapping her bagel and taking a big bite out of it.
I smile and grab my bag, eager to figure out my future.Taking the coffees and bag of bagels, I head to my grandmother’s office in the back of the store.
Once we’re down the hallway, I lower my voice.“Pete is still alive?”
Whit nods.“And we’re not going to see Pete’s name in theGuinness Book of Recordsfor the longest lifespan of a cat.He’s blind in one eye and lost a leg last year when he got out on the fire escape.Plus, he’s got some kidney thing going on now.Hence the whole peeing thing.Honestly, I thought Grandma would have outlived him.”
I cringe because it’s going to kill Vera when Pete passes.
The minute I open the door with bold letters reading OFFICE and a bumper sticker that says, “If You Don’t Read, We Can’t Be Friends,” I stop, taking in her space.Grief locks my chest, and a heavy weight presses down on my shoulders.
I expect to see her here, glasses sliding down her nose while she reads the first page of every new book that comes into the store.
The books she usually reads are stacked on a bookshelf.Props also line the shelves—a princess crown, a glittery fairy wand, a dragon mask, and a floppy wizard hat.
“Walk in, Hadley.I’m starving,” Whit says behind me, interrupting the memory I’m desperate to be transported to.
I absentmindedly place the coffees and the bagels on her desk and look at the wall of postcards I’ve sent her throughout the years.I run my hand down them, a map of everywhere I’ve gone since graduating college and becoming the Hargrove family misfit.
“She loved receiving them.Would always tell me where you were like I didn’t know.”Grandma’s chair creaks when Whit sits down and takes the lid off his coffee, blowing on it.He leaves the lid on the desk and opens his bagel.
“I should’ve come home last month.Had I?—”
“None of us could have guessed.”He hands me my bagel, and I sit on the upholstered chair with a book of fabric patterns strewn across it, opening up the parchment paper.“She was proud of you.”
“So proud she put a stipulation in her will that I have to get married and stay in Chicago to own the bookstore?”I quirk my eyebrow.
He sighs.“It’s more about the bookstore than you.She was afraid of this place being swallowed up by one of the big stores or that someone would sell to the highest bidder.I’m not gonna lie, Hadley, I know you want this place, but you might not after you look at the P&L reports.”
I drop my bagel.“It’s the most magical place in this city.”
He sighs again, leaning back in the chair and sipping his coffee.Whit might tolerate and love me, but my dreams will never be the same as his.He likes stability and routines.
“It’s a children’s bookstore that charges twice the price of the big box stores.I told her to sell it five years ago.”
“Whit!”My mouth drops open.
