The Bookstore was as bright as I imagined Olympus to be. Four long aisles of tall bookshelves encased the store like the comforting walls of a childhood bedroom. I personally love fantasy series. Being able to escape the world for hours on end… It’s divine. The owner of the shop, Madeline, a little redhead with one side of her head shaved, is so full of life and gives great recommendations. She’s become an incredible part of my week when I can get away from home for a few hours. My whole body hums with excitement, picking through the selection of books. I have the final book in the series I’ve been reading. I’m dying to know how it ends. I face Madeline at the register.
“Hey hun! You find everything alright?” She says.
“Yes! I’m so excited to finish out the series!” I stutter out a bit too fast.
“You’ll love it! I finished the whole series in like two weeks and couldn’t put it down. When you finish, it you can come on back, and I can recommend something new!” Her voice is delicate and thrilling all at once.
“I would love that!” I reply.
“It’s a date then!” She flashes a smile that could kill.
I’m back in my car now, on the corner of where the bookshop sits. My face is still hot from the interaction. I don’t know why. I sit waiting in my car when I leave the shop. I stare in watching how passionate Madeline is while she works. There’s such an effortless joy about her as she helps customers or even just as she sits behind the register, rereading The Secret History for what seems like the twentieth time. I sit there for a moment longer, taking in the raw joy of someone who is truly happy in their life, before I pull back my shifter and take the long way home.
I’m barely through the door before a child has me in their grasp, holding me as tight as an anaconda. The word mommy is thrown through the air at me several times from the mouth of the most adorable little boy, whose breath smells like he may have snuck a soda while I was gone. I fall to my knees, wrapping my beautiful son, Sammy, in the tightest of momma bear hugs. This is the part of my life that coats me in joy.
A moment later, the joy creeps away as a man slithers in from the kitchen and plants a prickly wet kiss right on my cheek. My husband, Reid, and I have been drifting ever since we had Sammy. I cringe slightly when he pulls his lips off my cheek. This is the part of my life I dread. There’s a moment in my day after I’ve been watching Sammy when Reid gets home from work. I finally get a break, and I usually go to the bookstore, my safe haven.
The three of us sit at the dinner table, eating the pasta I prepared when I returned home. Sometimes I feel like it’s crazy for us to eat dinner together every night. Sammy is spewing pasta out of his mouth as he goes in depth about what battle his little army men went through today. I love his passion and master storytelling abilities. My husband is watching baseball on his phone, not even paying attention to his son. I fight the urge to murder him at this moment.
Sammy always loves to talk before bed. Even as I’m tucking him into his jade-green comforter, he’s asking about my day. His hair leaves wet drips everywhere from his nightly bath. His questions fly out with the pungent smell of bubblegum toothpaste. I tell him all about my bookshop adventures and the mysterious shop owner who always draws me in and recommends only the best of books, like she can read your mind and knows exactly what you need to read.
“Can I meet the magic book lady, Mommy?” Sammy says.
The question surprises me, like anyone trying to get into this part of my life is forbidden for some reason. I let out a far too nervous smile.
“Someday, baby… I’ll take you there soon. Now go to sleep, you have school tomorrow.” I say.
My husband now lies snoring in bed. The sound of a cruise ship’s horn comes to mind. I am deeply invested in my book. It’s three in the morning, and I’m halfway done. I decided I don’t care about sleep. I need to know how my series ends.
My little car hums beneath me as I sit outside the bookshop looking in. Madeline is wearing a matching scarf and cardigan today. She didn’t put in her contacts today, going with her big square glasses instead. She looks like a nerdy tavern owner in one of my fantasy books. The only thing that’d make it more real is if she had a little dagger hidden in her cardigan… maybe she does. The mystery makes me squirm.
I step foot into the shop, legs a little shakier than when I was in my little blue Prius. I slowly make my way to Madeline. She turns to me, getting a shocked look on her face, the look makes me smile. I come to the bookshop almost every day, and yet she always treats me like she’s never expecting me. My body starts to tingle thinking about it for too long.
“Finish it already? I told you it was great!” Her smile makes sweat start to form from within my pits.
“I couldn’t put it down. The suspense was too much! I mean, the way he sacrificed himself at the end for his brother, I wouldn’t sleep without knowing how it ended first.” I screech out in a tone slightly higher than my usual.
“Oh my god! I know! It killed me. I was devastated for about a week afterward.” She giggles lightly after saying this.
The giggle makes my stomach tickle ever so slightly. I don’t know the feeling. The feeling gives me the courage to do what I never could before: give her a compliment.
“Oh, I love your glasses, by the way, they’re so cute!” I say almost as a whisper.
“Awe… thank you so much. I’m always so self conscious about them. You’re so sweet.” She flashes her famous smile.
The victorious feeling of giving the compliment gives me an instant high that sprints through my existence.
“Are you ready for your book rec then?” She says with an arch of an eyebrow and a turn of the head.
“Yes, please! That’s why I’m here.” I release a smile with more nerves than expected.
Madeline turns to go behind the counter, digging through some shelves of mostly new books. She comes back around with a beautiful, almost grassy green book. She holds it up, modeling it with her hands.
“I know you like fantasy, so I set this aside for you. It’s about a crew of pirates on a quest to find the last bottle of Blackbeard’s rum. It’s super fun and cozy. The best part? It’s got the cutest Lesbian couple in it!” Her face twisted in excitement.
Lesbian couple? Does she think I’m gay? I’m not… I have a husband. I’m not gay. This thought hangs over me like a puppet’s strings, controlling my every move. I buy the book as fast as I can and as politely as I can before scurrying out to my car. Does she think I’m gay? Is she gay? Does she think I’m interested in her? I’m not, I swear. I sit in my car a little longer than usual, but not staring into the shop. Just anxiously contemplating if I can ever come back to the shop. I look at the book she recommended to me. I can’t read this.
I spent my whole night at home thinking about my interaction at the bookstore. I’m ashamed to say that I don’t pay as much attention as I should to Sammy’s story this evening. Reid doesn’t even notice that I’m not paying attention to him. He’s watching a video on the rise and fall of the Roman Empire for some reason. He picks a new obsession every week to help him ignore our problems. I hate him for this, and I hate myself for not being able to deal with this tragedy of a relationship.
I stay sitting at the kitchen table longer than my son and husband. Sammy fell asleep so peacefully on the couch while reading a book about a fish that gets its hat stolen. I can already hear Reid’s foghorn snoring coming from the bedroom. Once again, I have an internal battle with myself about whether I should hold a pillow over his head while he sleeps.
When I finally leave the kitchen, I go sit next to Sammy on the couch, not before spreading his shark blanket over him, of course. There it is, the temptation staring into my soul. The lesbian pirate book knows it’s been years since I went to bed without reading first. It’s got me backed into a corner. I try to resist, but it’s a futile endeavor. I break and reach for the book so slowly you might think it’s a predator waiting to attack.
I read the dedication page: “For all my queer brothers and sisters who crave to see themselves represented in their favorite genre, this is for you.” The words bring a smirk to my face. I’m happy for them. I start reading. The book isn’t long by any means, just over three hundred pages. I am soaring through it. The book hits all the marks I want in fantasy. I love it. The lesbian couple is so adorable. I don’t usually like romance in my fantasy. It always feels so fake, or it reminds me of my husband. I assumed the lesbian couple’s love would be the same, like the love I felt for my husband at one time. It doesn’t. It’s light and easy. There’s a safety between them both. It’s a craving that I’ve never felt. I can’t read any more of the book. My tears are dripping onto the pages. I’m devastated, and I don’t even know why.
This is the second night in a row without sleep. Tonight’s worse, though. It’s not from the excitement of a good book. It’s from the gut punch of life. My heart is heavy, my stomach hurts, and the worst part is that I don’t even know why I’m hurting this much. I sit with my son staring at the “Mr. & Mrs.” sign that hangs above a photo of my wedding day for the whole night. After a while, my melancholy starts turning to rage. I’m angry with Reid. I’m angry with myself. I’m angry with my life. Something needs to change.
I lied to my husband to make him stay home from work today to watch Sammy. I told him there was an emergency with my mom. In reality, there’s just something I need to take care of. My car sits rumbling outside the bookstore. My leg is bouncing up and down. I’m fidgeting with my keys. I’m psyching myself up in my head for what I have to do. There’s sweat gathering in my pits and under my breasts. I take a deep breath, get out of my car, and take several shaky steps toward the shop. I should turn back and go home; this is ridiculous. Madeline sees me from inside the shop and gives me an excited wave. Damn, I can’t turn back now.
I slip through the door, clear my throat, and give Madeline my best smile; my leg still wants to continue bouncing. It’s clear I’m her first customer of the day.
“You’re here quite early; finish the book already?” She lets out her trademarked giggle.
“Not quite.” I try giggling as well; I fail.
I take a step toward her, and then another; I keep doing so until I feel like I’m walking somewhat naturally. I stop once I get within a foot of her.
“So what can I do for you?” Her voice is so inquisitive.
I take one half step forward, and then our lips are locked into each other. A thousand butterflies go off in my stomach; I feel lightheaded in the best way. I go numb all over, and I’m sweating even more than before. This is my safe haven.
Our lips part, and I already miss the feeling. She looks deep into my eyes, smiling. She lets out that giggle once more.
“You finally got the hint?” Her smile is bigger than I’ve ever seen it.
I smile back, a real smile, a smile that hasn’t seen the light of day since I was a teenager. I feel warm all over. She takes my hand and pulls me into a kiss once more; the feeling washes over me. I’ve never felt such intense feelings before; I’m happy.
Biography:
I came to Aims looking to further my education and further my writing ability, thanks to the motivation of my wonderful partner. Writing means the world to me. I’ve been writing since I was around 13 years old and want nothing more than to publish a novel one day. My love for writing comes to me from my father, who got me interested in the art form from a very young age. When I consider myself as an artist, I like to think of myself as someone who can draw intense emotions from a reader, and that is what I strive for when I create. Many artists inspire my work and teach me to be better at my craft. Haruki Murakami, Ray Bradbury, and R.F. Kuang are three writers who create such beautiful prose that it drives me to strive for such a level of beauty in my own work. I write because something deep inside me craves it like nothing else in the world.