by Ellery Adams
The trees featured winter-themed books like Jan Brett’s The Mitten, Laura Ingalls Wilder’s The Long Winter, Elin Hilderbrand’s Winter Storms, Eowyn Ivey’s The Snow Child, Gary Paulsen’s Brian’s Winter, Lois Ehlert’s Snowballs, and Ezra Jack Keats’s The Snowy Day.
Nora decided to enclose a photo of the window in her next letter to Abilene, who’d been gone for nearly five months now.
Nora was surprised by how often she thought of Abilene. Of how much she missed her.
No one had ever imagined Abilene would leave Miracle Springs so soon, or that her visit to a recovery center in the Poconos would lead to a permanent move.
Abilene and Dr. Lisa had been working together for several weeks when Abilene expressed a desire to visit her childhood home. Dr. Lisa wanted her patient to continue her therapy and to have a support system in place during her time in Pennsylvania, so she made arrangements for Abilene to stay at the recovery center.
Abilene loved the isolation and quiet beauty of the center. She loved waking up each day to the sight of the snow-covered mountains. She wrote the members of the Secret, Book, and Scone Society and told them how her childhood memories were beginning to surface. More and more every day. She remembered her dad pulling her on a sleigh and her mom giving her accessories for her snowman and snow dog. She remembered helping them dig in the soil and dropping seeds into the holes afterward. She remembered pulling carrots and potatoes from the ground. She remembered bedtime hugs and kisses, her parents pushing her on a swing, and a church Christmas pageant.
At the recovery center, she participated in group therapy and found great comfort in the company of people who’d also experienced trauma. When they spoke of their pain, she felt less alone.
When she finally left the center for Lake Harmony, the town where she’d been born, she was filled with a longing to be remembered as the child she once was.
And she was remembered. Especially by the couple who’d cared for her while her parents were in Africa. Karl and Janet Huber were thrilled to see Abilene again. Their initial visit went so smoothly that Abilene returned the next day. And the day after that.
The Hubers convinced her to move from her hotel room to the apartment above their garage. A week later, they asked Abilene if she’d like to live there permanently. To everyone’s surprise, Abilene accepted.
She cooked meals and ran errands for the Hubers. Every night, they had supper together. The Hubers were a loving couple who lived a quiet, simple life. With no children of their own, Abilene became the daughter they’d always wanted.
“I feel at home here,” Abilene wrote to the Secret, Book, and Scone Society members. “I never understood what that expression meant until now, and I hope my saying this doesn’t hurt your feelings. I owe all of you so much. I owe you my life! And I care about you more than I can express, but I belong with Karl and Janet. We belong together.”
Having felt at home in Miracle Springs from the moment she’d alighted from the train, Nora knew that Abilene had been granted a small miracle. As Nora folded the letter, she prayed that Abilene would experience many more.
Over time, the Secret, Book, and Scone Society members grew accustomed to Abilene’s absence. They missed her. They worried about her. But between letters and phone calls, they knew she was doing fine. Better than fine, actually. She was preparing to take her GED and was even considering registering for a few courses at the local community college.
“She sounds so energetic,” Hester had said after showing Nora Abilene’s last letter. “I wish I had some of her energy. I really don’t know how I’ll manage the Gingerbread House without her.”
June had given her a sympathetic look and said, “You could put up a HELP WANTED sign.”
“After what happened the last time one of us did that? No, thanks,” Hester had replied.
The four friends, who’d met to discuss Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine, devour slices of cranberry cheesecake, and pack another round of Secret Kindness totes, had fallen silent for a moment to reflect on Hester’s comment.
“I’m glad Abilene found us, but I wish all those nut jobs hadn’t come along for the ride,” Estella had said. “Kenneth, Griffin, Tamara, Ezekiel. What a way to kick off the fall. Most people have Labor Day parties or go apple picking. Not us. We get involved with murder investigations.”
June had raised her coffee cup in a toast. “I vote that we take a break from drama and focus our attention on eating and reading.”
“I second that motion,” Nora had said.
Thinking of the meeting reminded Nora that they’d been so preoccupied with their Night Angels deliveries that they’d failed to pick a new book to read.
Glancing at the books in the front window again, Nora wondered if she should suggest Kristin Hannah’s Winter Garden or David Guterson’s Snow Falling on Cedars.
“A few days after we met, I told you that you looked like a fairy queen,” said a voice. Nora smiled. Jed had come up behind her on the sidewalk without her realizing it.
“I was picking blackberries,” she said, turning to face him.
Jed moved his boot over the snow-dusted ground. “It’s hard to imagine a summer day right now, but I remember your green shirt. Standing in front of those bushes, you were almost camouflaged. But like I told you then, you could never blend in with the background. You were meant to stand out.” He brushed a snowflake off her cheek. “Today, you look like a snow queen—snow-kissed and beautiful. Are you cold?”
Nora showed him her new mittens. “June made these to match my hat and scarf. At the rate she’s going, I’ll be able to stay outside all day.”
“You’d be too far from your books.” Jed gestured at the Miracle Books sign. “Are you ready, or is there something else you need to do inside?”
“I’m ready,” Nora said.
In the car, Jed talked about which dishes he wanted to order. His boyish excitement was contagious, and though Nora was happy to be eating out at a restaurant with him, she felt a little guilty about their going to Pearl’s. In her mind, Pearl’s belonged to Sheriff McCabe. It was his special place. He and Nora had shared two more dinners there since September. And of all the restaurants in the area, Pearl’s was where Jed wanted to go tonight.
Pearl didn’t seem the least bit fazed that Nora wasn’t with the sheriff.
“Darlin’!” she cried, hurrying over to Nora’s table to give her a hug. No one could refuse Pearl’s hugs, just as no one dared to refuse to order dessert. Pearl was the living embodiment of Shakespeare’s description of Hermia in A Midsummer Night’s Dream: “Though she be but little, she is fierce.”
After Nora waved at Samuel, who stood in his usual position behind the bar, she introduced Pearl to Jed. Pearl flashed him her electric smile and turned back to Nora.
“Baby girl, that doctor did a wonderful job. Last time I saw you, you still needed a few procedures. You all done now? Because you look done to me!”
Nora laughed. The movement no longer caused her pain or tugged at her burn scars. There were no more burn scars on her face. Dr. Patel, one of the country’s foremost experts in burn scar repair, had worked miracles on Nora’s skin. She wasn’t without blemishes. There were still thin, surgical scars near her hairline, but they were difficult to see. Her days of being stared at were over.
“I’m done,” Nora said. “The doctor was incredible. He even offered to treat my arm and hand, but I wouldn’t let him. He fixed my face at no charge. That was more than enough.”
Pearl folded her arms. “Sounds like you found a doctor with skill and heart. The good Lord puts the right people in our path just when we need them the most.”
“Actually, Jed put him in my path,” Nora said.
Pearl rolled her eyes. “And who do you think put Jed in your path?” Beaming at Jed, she said, “Okay, you sweet things, tell Pearl what you need to fill up your hungry souls tonight.”
After Pearl bustled off to the kitchen with their orders, Jed reached for Nor
a’s scarred hand. “Do you think you’ll regret telling Patel no?”
Nora shook her head. “What I told Pearl was a partial truth. I didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, but I also didn’t want to erase the evidence of my accident. I want a reminder of what I did. I never want to be like that person again. As long as I bear the marks of that night somewhere on my body, I’ll remember what matters most.”
Jed looked mournful. “You came out of your fire like a phoenix, but I’d erase my mom’s scars if I could. I’d erase the past if I could. I’d give anything to see her walk—to toss that damn wheelchair off a cliff.”
Jed had told Nora the specifics of the fire that had injured his mother. After working a series of double shifts to cover the void left by a coworker on paternity leave, Jed had come home and decided to have a midnight snack of bacon and eggs. He’d slapped half a rasher of bacon in a frying pan and opened a can of beer. He then went into the living room of the house he shared with his mother and turned on the TV.
“I passed out,” he’d explained, his face twisted with remorse. “I was just so tired. But I left the rest of the beer on the counter, right next to the stove. I left the bacon cooking along with a pan of oil I was heating so I could fry up some eggs. Mom was asleep. Henry Higgins was in his crate in the kitchen. He was a puppy and was still being trained.”
They’d been in Nora’s dark bedroom when Jed had told her the rest of his story. She’d heard the pain in his voice. She’d felt it swell and fill the space around them.
“Mom had been asking me to replace the batteries in the smoke detector for weeks, but I hadn’t gotten to it. I just unscrewed it from the ceiling to stop the beeping. Because she slept downstairs, Mom had to go through the kitchen to get out of the house—to escape the fire. She was burned saving Henry Higgins. By the time I woke up, she’d carried Henry Higgins out the back door. Her legs. Her hands. The burns were awful.”
Following the fire, Jed’s mother received in-home care from a team of therapists who came to the house on a routine basis. Though the cost was staggering, Jed wouldn’t consider another alternative. He wanted the best for his mother and he worked as much as he could to get it for her.
Though he never said so, Nora guessed that he’d left his job because he was too ashamed to face his coworkers. Instead, he’d moved to the other end of the state where no one knew his history.
After he’d shared his story, Nora had comforted him with her body. The next morning, she’d made him blueberry pancakes for breakfast and sent him off to work with a tender kiss.
He hadn’t mentioned the accident again until tonight.
Luckily, Pearl appeared with a basket of her famous hush puppies and Jed changed the subject by asking after Abilene.
“She started volunteering at her local library,” Nora said and went on to describe how much Abilene loved the experience. “She’s handling returns, shelving, and other circulation-related tasks. She doesn’t have to interact with the public unless she wants to, but according to her letter, she wants to. She loves being around book people. She also likes the hushed atmosphere.”
“I can see her as a librarian.” Jed plucked another hush puppy from the basket. Smiling coyly at Nora, he said, “I know this really sexy woman who used to be a librarian. I fantasize about her telling me to shush before pulling me behind the reference desk for a—”
Just then, their waitress showed up at their table to top off their water glasses. She asked if she could get either of them something other than water to drink.
“No, thank you,” Nora said. When the waitress left, Nora looked at Jed. “For once, I’m going to refuse Pearl when she tries to force dessert on us. Tonight, I want to have dessert at home.”
Jed reached for her hand. He kissed her palm, sending a spark of heat all the way up her arm, and said, “Lady, I like the way you think.”
* * *
The snow continued falling throughout the night and into the next day. As Nora walked the short distance from Caboose Cottage to Miracle Books, she was spellbound by the sight of the white hills rising over town. Miracle Springs was draped in silence. The whole world had become a softer, gentler place.
Rosy-cheeked locals were out and about, bundled up in their heaviest coats and brightest hats and scarfs. Everyone seemed to have succumbed to the snow’s spell, smiling or waving amiably as they passed their fellow townsfolk on the sidewalk. Nora watched these exchanges through the bookstore’s front window. She recognized most of the people, which meant the tourists were sleeping in or partaking of a late breakfast near a roaring fire.
Just after noon, people began to wander into Miracle Books. Customers entered and were reluctant to leave. Every chair and sofa were soon occupied. Even the fainting couch had been taken by a large man paging through a coffee table book on American songbirds.
Nora hustled from the ticket agent’s office, where she made coffee and served book pockets, to the checkout counter, only to return to her barista duties the moment she’d finished bagging books and shelf enhancers.
By five o’clock, she was dead tired.
There were no customers in the shop at the moment, so she dropped into a chair and revisited the idea of hiring part-time help.
“Just two or three days a week to start,” she murmured, wishing a cup of tea would magically appear out of thin air. A cup of tea and a throw blanket.
When the sleigh bells clanged, Nora let out a low groan. She didn’t want a customer to find her slumped in a chair, looking like she was ready for a long winter’s nap, so she dragged herself into the ticket agent’s office.
To her delight, the customer turned out to be Hester. She immediately sank into the nearest chair, expelling a weary sigh as she kicked off her shoes.
Nora made tea for both of them and then sat down opposite Hester. “Tough day?”
Hester nodded. “I love what I do, but some days are really hard. Today was one of those days. Every part of me hurts.” After sipping her tea, she added, “I’d really like to hire someone for a few hours each morning.”
“What’s stopping you?” Nora asked.
“What’s stopping you?” Hester retorted.
Nora shrugged. “I’m not sure I can trust this place to another person. This store. These books. They’re everything to me.”
Hester gave her a wan smile. “Exactly. How can we know that we’re hiring someone with a level head, a good heart, and the right soul for our businesses? Your books. My food. They’re the most important things in our lives. Whoever worked with us would have to feel the same way.”
“We’d need to find people like us,” Nora said. “Which will probably require more effort than a sign in the window. A special ad in the paper, maybe? One that says exactly what we’re looking for and ends with the line, Slackers need not apply.”
Hester laughed.
The two women drank their tea in companionable silence.
When Nora looked at Hester again, her friend was crying.
“What is it?” Nora asked, immediately putting her tea aside to take Hester’s hand.
“I was wondering if you’d offer me some bibliotherapy.”
Nora was stunned. None of her friends had requested her special gift. “Really?”
“Yes. I need the kind of help you’d give any other woman who . . . gave up a child. Other women who can’t find peace because of this.” She sniffed. “That’s me. It was so long ago, Nora. But it was also yesterday. I’m still that sixteen-year-old who didn’t get to hold her baby. I’m still the person who felt her growing inside me. Who didn’t get to feed her, or change her, or name her.” She smiled through her tears. “I saw her face, though. She was beautiful.”
“I’m sure she was. And it’s okay to miss her. It’s okay to be angry because you weren’t given a choice about her future,” Nora said softly. “It’s also okay if you don’t know whether or not you want to search for her. This is complicated stuff, and I can’t tell you what to do, bu
t I can find some books to help you find the way to your answer.”
Hester squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”
“It won’t be easy,” Nora warned. “No matter what path you choose, there’s no guarantee that you’ll find peace at the end. And the books will make you hurt. They’ll also ease your loneliness. In the end, I hope they bring you clarity. But they’ll also bring much closer the feelings you keep at a distance.”
“I need to do this, Nora. The only time I feel peace is when I’m baking,” Hester said. “As soon as I stop working—stop being a whirlwind of motion—the peaceful feeling vanishes.”
Nora stood up. “Take your tea to the chair near the window. Watch the snow fall. Grab my throw blanket if you get cold. I’m going to find you some books.”
Usually, Nora could make bibliotherapy selections in twenty minutes or less, but these books were for her friend. And her friend was hurting. Because of this, Nora took great care picking titles.
The only way out is through, Nora thought, pulling Shilpi Somaya Gowda’s Secret Daughter down from the shelf. She also retrieved copies of John Irving’s Cider House Rules and Louisa May Alcott’s Eight Cousins. She then moved to the children’s section and added Tell Me Again About the Night I Was Born by Jamie Lee Curtis, and Anne Bradzinsky’s The Mulberry Bird. She finished with Ann Fessler’s The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in the Decades Before Roe v. Wade.
After leaving the books at the checkout counter, Nora went to tell Hester that she was done making her selections.
Hester was asleep in her chair, the hand holding her empty mug hovering inches off the floor. Nora gently pried the mug loose and carried it back to the ticket agent’s office, leaving Hester to doze for a little while longer.
However, it seemed that rest wasn’t in either woman’s future, for the sleigh bells clanged and the high, bubbly sound of children’s laughter floated into Miracle Books.
