Authentically izzy, p.28
Authentically, Izzy, page 28
Oh! I still have my princess hat. It’s in a keepsake box with my poster of Chris Pine, my favorite hair scrunchies, a gel pen given to me by Tommie Cauldwell, and the shoes I wore on my first trip to England. There’s also an old pack of bubble gum, but I can’t remember why it’s there.
I order my books by color. They’re much prettier on the shelves that way.
All these pictures just heighten my excitement about my internship. It’s very strict, though. I think I’m going to be placed in some kind of governmental position because the amount of paperwork I have to complete for the intern position is enormous.
Anyway, I’m so excited for you and your dreams, Izzy. Maybe this one will come true!!
Love,
Penelope
PS: I already feel a kinship to Brodie’s mother. It’s the same feeling I have when I see anyone who remotely resembles Julie Andrews. Maybe I can meet Ellen when I come to Skymar!
PPS: Isn’t there some Bible verse about God doing exceedingly and abundantly above what we even think? Exceedingly and abundantly are very optimistic words in the right context. For some reason it makes me think of The Sound of Music.
PPPS: Luke, Izzy’s dinner probably didn’t consist of french fries and freshly caught trout. Romantic food makes a difference.
From: Luke Edgewood
To: Izzy Edgewood, Josephine Martin, Penelope Edgewood
Date: June 24
Subject: Re: Epiphany of all epiphanies
Penny-girl,
I think that once you take a photo of a ghost, they can’t live in that place anymore. Maybe the same thing is true for sea monsters.
Luke
PS: Everything makes you think of The Sound of Music.
PPS: Trout is the most romantic food in the world.
Text from Izzy to Luke and Penelope: That was a mean thing to send to Penelope. You know she’ll research photos and ghosts now for a week and then end up terrifying herself into not sleeping!
Luke: When you become a big brother, you can tell me how to do it.
Penelope: Maybe wearing a button-down (white or not) that isn’t flannel every once in a while might help you find your dream woman.
Luke: Says the woman who still wears a princess hat.
Penelope: I’m dressing for the job I want.
From: Josephine Martin
To: Izzy Edgewood, Luke Edgewood, Penelope Edgewood
Date: June 25
Subject: Re: Epiphany of all epiphanies
Izzy,
Those photos truly are amazing. Are you certain that house is really Brodie’s? You know, men will go to all sorts of lengths to impress the woman they like. Just be careful. You are very far away and there’s not much we can do to save you from mishap, though I have contacted my great uncle who works in the government to let him know where you are in case we should be forced to find you. He’s not known for being a very chatty person, but I was wholly surprised that he seemed nonplussed about my request to research Brodie’s family. You would think government officials would take these types of things more seriously. At any rate, Maybelle, the secretary from the sheriff’s office, has given me several websites to research that give detailed information about various countries of the world. Skymar’s crime rate is surprisingly low and their main source of income is fishing, agriculture, and tourism. Really, Izzy? Fishing? What would you do in a fishing place?
And did you know that winter lasts almost half the year in Skymar? Almost HALF THE YEAR!! I can barely stand a month of solid cold. Can you imagine half a year of it? Except right now. Right now is the hottest summer we’ve ever had. And I think something is wrong with Patrick. He’s taken to wearing his winter coat indoors in June!! Perhaps he’s coming down with something. I’ve been sweating every day!
At any rate, I hear that men who are about to become fathers for the first time do strange things.
I’m so glad you’re enjoying your time in that little bookshop. You are much too generous with your ideas, Izzy, and I’ve always thought so, but make sure they’re not trying to steal them.
The babies are growing at preposterous rates, or so it seems. If they remain as active outside of my body as they are inside my body, I may have to hire Penelope as a live-in nanny. Oh, Izzy, you’d be the perfect live-in nanny . . . but only if that fits into YOUR plans. (See? I’m trying.)
I need to go. Babies on the bladder are not comfortable at all. And I’m starting to cry again. What is wrong with me?!?
Josephine
PS: Penelope, Tommie Cauldwell is still in prison. Please get rid of the pen.
* * *
Sutherland’s looked like something out of an advertisement.
After spending one whole day moving shelves and a morning with Isabelle as he introduced her to local business owners (who loved the idea of Sutherland’s showcasing some of their merchandise), Brodie had needed to complete a few business meetings in the afternoon, so he’d left Sutherland’s only to return to Isabelle’s handiwork on full display. Of course, watching her passion rub off on the locals only secured the many talents he already knew about her, but it was a delight to see how others recognized and responded to them too.
After hours away, he was a bit concerned when he couldn't find Isabelle anywhere on the first floor. In all honesty he’d been so distracted by the transformation of the shop, he may have detoured a few times before actually searching in earnest. The first window display beamed with lights and festive decorations, couching top-seller royal reads as well as a few favorites, with crowns, silk, and even several pieces of fine scree jewelry and a coffee cup or two to boast their new addition of merchandise. They’d even taken one of the old vanities from the attic and repurposed it as an almost “magical” mirror complete with modern-day fairy tales atop. In the other window Izzy had placed a massive stuffed dragon peering down from its perch on some shiny bluish material, which must have been used for sky or clouds, and this window was clearly meant to appeal more to the younger population with its foam swords, wooden shields, and handy display of children’s royal headgear.
He entered, half in laughter and half in awe. He’d only been gone five hours, and he’d left Isabelle, Mum, Fiona, and Brynna busily restocking shelves they’d moved to various new places in the shop and unboxing merchandise he’d delivered earlier in the morning. How had they accomplished so much in such a short amount of time?
The front room still held its massive number of books, but instead of merely rows and rows of shelves, there were now little nooks for reading. Each window seat boasted pillows and soft lamps nearby for added light. A mismatch of antique furniture from the attic scattered throughout the shelves, each adorned with merchandise and softening the angles of the shelves with a cozy charm. Coffee cups, tea towels, plaques with book quotes, notebooks, and other book-related gifts begged for perusal from the tourist and local alike. Twinkle lights dotted various places and even twisted up the spiral staircase. Unbelievable!
“It’s a marvel, isn’t it, Mr. Sutherland?”
He turned to find Lylla carefully placing books on the shelf near the checkout counter. Fairy Tales, the embossed collection they’d ordered several months ago. The teenager’s smile mirrored his own. “Isabelle’s taken everything in hand and done this.” She waved toward the room. “It’s better than anything I’ve seen in New Inswythe or anywhere else on Ansling, if you ask me.”
“I think you’re right, Lylla.” Another laugh burst from him as he pushed a hand through his hair. “I knew she had a gift, but I had no idea.”
“We’ve had folks trying to get in the doors since nine this morning. I’ve had to keep telling them we’d open tomorrow, but they’re nearly bursting to enter.” Her ponytail swished with a shake of her head. “And she hasn’t even started on the ideas she has for the website yet. Said she’s going to work on that tonight with Brynna. Can you imagine?”
“No, truly. What she needs is a respite for a few hours.” He stepped farther into the shop, searching for any sight of Isabelle. “She must be exhausted.”
“You wouldn’t know it to look at her.” Lylla shrugged her shoulders. “She’s been laughing and humming like the happiest person in the whole world. The rest of us might need a respite, but I’m not sure she does. If you ask me, she seems more energetic with each new project.”
As if in response to Lylla’s declaration, the sound of laughter reverberated from overhead.
“They’ve been up there the past two hours working on the children’s place, as they’ve termed it.”
“‘Children’s place’?”
Lylla nodded with an added shrug. “Your mum’s over the moon. Fiona’s positively wild about it. Said something about a ‘touch box’ for certain books.” Lylla’s pale eyes widened. “Don’t ask me. I haven’t the foggiest. And I’ve not seen so much cloth and puff animals inside a bookshop in all my life. If it’s to come out anything like the ground level, it’s bound to be smacking good.”
“Aye, smacking good . . . ” Brodie murmured, following the sound of the laughter. His mother’s joined in with Isabelle’s. He bypassed the spiral staircase for the larger stairs near the back of the room, following the sounds. At the top of the landing he froze. They’d transformed the entire space into some magical world for children. A few large throw pillows waited on the hardwood floor at one corner and the shelves had been rearranged into various categories to break up the enormous space. Shimmering teal cloth partially covered some of the exposed beams in the ceiling, giving the appearance of sky or clouds above to arch over the myriad displays of colorful children’s books and miscellanea. He truly wished to linger and explore.
“Wonderful! You’ve returned.” His mother walked toward him from a corner of the room where small bookshelves were framed by an assortment of puff animals. “Did you bring the puzzles?” She waved toward a few empty shelves by the window. “We have shelves awaiting them.”
He shuffled another step forward. “They’re in the boot.”
“And did Marcus have any additional children’s games to offer?”
He nodded, still taking in the room. He’d toured various bookshops around the world and this one measured up to them. Even if it wasn’t complete and empty shelves awaited more books or merchandise, the vision shone delightfully clear. No magical wardrobe necessary.
“Brodie?”
He blinked out of his stupor to find his mother and Isabelle standing nearby, staring at him, the latter’s forehead puckered as she searched his face.
“It’s remarkable, Isabelle.” His attention shifted to his mother, his response unexpectedly breathless. “Truly.”
“Isn’t it?” His mother wrapped an arm around Isabelle’s shoulders. “I thought the loss of what your father had designed would wound me, but once we began shifting things here and decorating things there, I realized Isabelle still understood the heart of my husband’s love for this place. She even made a very special section for our secondhand treasures, as she called the used books.”
“Secondhand treasures,” he whispered, all of it too much to take in at one time. “What a perfect name.”
“And we’ve listed the section as such downstairs,” Mum added.
His attention landed on Isabelle, air bursting from his nose in a strange sort of shocked laugh. “Isabelle, this.” He gestured toward the room. “This is what you were made to do,” he breathed out the sentence, pushing a hand through his hair as he turned to take in the room again. “I can’t believe it’s the same shop. You must be exhausted.”
“I’ve loved every minute.” She shot him a grin, the glimmer in her eyes failing to show any weariness at all. “I mean, you can only do so much with a library, and my aunt would only give a certain amount of freedom, but the two of you just let me create. I’m at my best when I’m creating bookish things, or talking of bookish things.” She skimmed her teeth over the bottom lip with a shrug. “Or pushing books on people.”
“A bookshop is the perfect place for a book pusher to work, my dear. In fact, I can’t think of a single occupation more fitting.”
Isabelle shook her head with her laugh, the dark hair of her ponytail swishing. “Well, I don’t know that there are many jobs out there in the world for book pushers and bookshop decorators.”
“It’s more than that and you know it.” Brodie approached, sighing again as he scanned the room. “You have this book knowledge that’s remarkable, this unique passion for it, and a sense of how to remodel a bookshop, as well as a way of matching people with the proper books.”
“Well, if I had more time, I could really get things set.” She rubbed her palms together, an added glint in her dark eyes. “This place is filled with such natural character and charm, it breathes the invitation for creativity. And all that antique furniture upstairs? If we interspersed more of it throughout the shop, it would add a sense of homeyness to everything. Some of the high-backs upstairs would work wonderfully for reading spots.”
“What a brilliant idea!” He stared at her, blinking. “We’ve always wondered what to do with those furnishings.”
“I’m pleased beyond what I can say, my dear. You need to find a way to use these gifts as a part of your daily life. Such creativity and innovation! I can’t believe you’re not knackered.”
“With the third floor free of some of the furniture, we could create office space, Mum.” Brodie laughed. “Part storage and part offices. Skern has been our central location for years, but we’ve never had an actual place fit for an office.”
“Look at the two of you.” Mum clasped her hands together. “The perfect bookish duo.” She laughed and then released a happy sigh before turning to touch Isabelle’s cheek. Isabelle’s eyes rounded and a sudden sheen glimmered to life in those dark eyes, but it wasn't from sadness. No. His lovely American smiled. A sweet, grateful smile.
His heart expanded to post-Grinchlike proportions at the sight.
“So, Brodie-dear,” Mum turned her attention on him. “I believe your lovely friend is due a proper reward for all her hard work.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He exchanged a look with his mum and then reached for Isabelle’s hand. “We have an evening appointment to tour Carlstern Castle and then we’ll enjoy a nice dinner in the city before we return to Skern. With an imagination like yours, Karre, you simply must visit a real castle.”
Chapter 23
From: Anders Sutherland
To: Brodie Sutherland
Date: June 27
Subject: Twinkle lights???
Brodie,
What have you done? I thought you said your little girlfriend was going to make a few adjustments to the bookshop, but I visited Skern today to find Sutherland’s completely transformed. Pink parasols?? White twinkling lights? Puff dragons? Grandfather would be rolling in his grave! Who approved of placing a plastic crown on the statue of Lord Percival II? Plastic? Did you speak to Mother about these things? It's positively preposterous. And what happened to the History section? It’s been replaced by plush pillows and picture books and a pair of fighter planes hanging from the ceiling. I have no words. How any of this will help sales is beyond me! People visit bookshops for books, not . . . theatrics and teacups. I expect things to return to their former structure and predictability once Isabella returns home. I just hope we haven’t lost too much business by then.
Anders
PS: What do twinkling lights have to do with either books or royals? Clearly Isabella is American.
From: Brodie Sutherland
To: Anders Sutherland
Date: June 27
Subject: Re: Twinkle lights???
Anders,
I have attached ten links to various successful bookshops in countries neighboring ours. Twinkling lights are all the rage. And I think Lord Percival looks rather dashing with a crown. He always wanted to be king, as you recall from history, so we’ve just fulfilled his wish posthumously.
I look forward to allaying your fears about sales once the festival is over.
Brodie
PS: Isabelle is her name and I’m rather fond of her being an American.
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Luke Edgewood, Penelope Edgewood, Josephine Martin
Date: June 28
Subject: The Book Matchmaker
Cousins,
I’m so sorry I’ve missed emailing you guys for the past few days, but the whole bookshop thing has taken up almost every waking moment. I can’t tell you how much fun I’ve had. I’m exhausted, overwhelmed, thrilled . . . and I’ve nearly cried three times. I love books! I know that’s not a surprise, but more than that, I love helping people not only love books but experience them.
I know your mom loves me, but I’ve spent so many years keeping quiet about my ideas because I’d convinced myself that I shouldn’t say anything, that I needed to keep quiet because she and Uncle Herman were so kind to take me into your family when I lost mine. I know it’s crazy and untrue, but the idea kept me quiet when I should have spoken and still when I should have moved. But something happened when Brodie and his mom gave me freedom to renovate Sutherland’s. Actually I think it all started with Josephine’s matchmaking madness with Heart-to-Heart. The anonymity to be me and then the realization of me pretending to be someone else to help Eli and then how Brodie encouraged my authenticity when I didn’t even realize I was opening up to him . . . Well, here I am. The Book Matchmaker.
What is that, you may ask?
It seems that after we restructured what we could over two days, the curious locals couldn’t get enough and the tourist traffic from the incoming festival had an upswing. The place was so crowded, they even called in Anders, Brodie’s brother, who appears to be less enthused with customer interaction. Needless to say, I took over his shift when he couldn't remember who wrote Great Expectations and then later made another child cry—those were unrelated events.
