Dear Mother,
Forgive me. I have been hitting the wine spritzers and did not mean to send such a scathing email. Please delete and do not tell Florence what I said. I did not mean any of it. It is so unreasonably hot in this city today that I started the chilled wine a little early for a Thursday. (Needless to say, I’m really looking forward to that pool party!!)
Fawn
P.S. Now that we are all adults, I believe you can answer me straight on this one: Why were you and Father always so against getting us an aboveground pool?
From: Mark Nilsen
Sent: Fri, May 24, 2019 at 11:20 PM
To: Fawn Birchill
Subject: Signs
Hi Fawn,
A few things. Those signs in your front window look a lot like ours, only slightly altered. I didn’t think too much of it until one of my employees informed me that he saw your employee rooting through our trash bin, pulling out our discarded signage. According to my employee, he appeared as happy and comfortable in there as a flea on a dog. How exactly do you find these people? I’ll reiterate that what he is doing is illegal, and I will not hesitate to call the cops if I catch him again.
Also, I like the plants out front. I can’t help but notice that you’ve taken a page from my decorating book. Soon, if we’re not careful, no one will be able to tell the difference between our two stores.
Best,
Mark
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Fri, May 24, 2019 at 2:36 PM
To: Mark Nilsen
Re: Signs
Mark,
I am too busy to be dealing with these petty matters. I have customers to attend to. However, since I am a good steward of the neighborhood, I will address your blossoming accusations. Are you positive one of your employees saw Jack in the trash? We only took your signage once, and I went through the trash myself. I didn’t realize there was anything wrong with doing that at the time until you threatened to call the police, so why would I make the mistake of doing it again? Do you think I am mad? I will have you know that Jack is from Chestnut Hill and extremely wealthy and would never lower himself to pick through the garbage. Also, anything Jack does in his free time is something that I cannot control. He is a free spirit for sure—a quality that I believe you and I can relate to.
Also, I find it abhorrent that you accuse me of copying you by decorating the front of the store with plants. I didn’t realize that the Grumpy Mug patented the act of decorating with plants. Congratulations for this achievement, and I do apologize! I will remove them immediately and also inform Thirtieth Street Station and every restaurant in Philadelphia to bring them inside or face the wrath of Mark Nilsen! It is spring, Mark. Plants grow in the spring. To think that I am emulating your business model is ridiculous, as I was here first and have been putting plants in my storefront from the very first year I opened. It is embarrassing how you have copied my business model from day one, and you further mortify yourself by turning the tables and accusing me of copying you! Thank you; I needed a good laugh today.
Fawn
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Fri, May 24, 2019 at 4:56 PM
To: Jack Grisby
Subject: Macaroni Salad
Jack,
I couldn’t help myself and decided to make macaroni salad anyway! If you do not want to bring it home tonight since you will be riding your bike and then taking public transportation home, I would be happy to deliver it to the party myself on the way out to my father’s drab Memorial Day festivities. I wouldn’t stay more than a few minutes!
Fawn, Owner
From: Jack Grisby
Sent: Fri, May 24, 2019 at 5:15 PM
To: Fawn Birchill
Re: Macaroni Salad
Hi Fawn,
Okay I’ll take it. Thankyou! I’ll put it in my back pack and bring it home after work.
Jack
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Fri, May 24, 2019 at 5:35 PM
To: Jack Grisby
Re: Macaroni Salad
Jack,
Do not put the salad in your backpack. As it is in a glass Pyrex bowl with some plastic wrap over it, I believe it would not be a wise move. Within minutes, it will surely spill onto your laptop and books. I sincerely hate Tupperware and all plastic containers in general, and I throw them all out the very first chance I get. I hate them so that I do not even give them the benefit of being recycled! Ha ha! Also, I have lost the rubber lid to the Pyrex bowl, so I must resort to plastic wrap. Please return the bowl after the party.
Many thanks,
Fawn, Owner
May 25
Dear Rainbow,
It’s fine that you are learning lock-picking skills, but please refrain from your practice during store hours, as customers need to be able to leave. I noticed that the door was locked from the outside earlier today—a truly problematic pickle we found ourselves in. I was able to guide a customer through the back, and thankfully he seemed to have a good sense of humor about it, but not every customer may see it that way.
Many thanks,
Fawn, Landlord
May 27, 2019
Jack took the macaroni salad and should be enjoying it by his pool right about now. I am thinking about poor Mother surrounded by the family, the stench of the halls, and the smell of burned meat. Though I do not envy her, I can’t help but think that it would have been nice to see Florence’s little boys, especially the increasingly talented Little Joe. And I’m honestly not sure how much in decline Father is, having only heard it from Mother and Florence, but I would like to see it for myself. Perhaps we could have talked. About what I’m not sure since he was never much of a talker, but I think just sitting there with them and having the freedom to go when I wanted to would have been nice tonight.
I, for one, have snuck onto my roof and am sitting with a bottle of white wine. The sun has begun its descent behind me in the west, and before me I can see the city in its silhouetted grandeur. The Comcast building, the Cira Centre, those hilarious Commerce buildings that look as if they have little horns and . . . all the others that I cannot identify. And somewhere in Chestnut Hill there is a party the likes of which perhaps even Gatsby would envy. For once I would like to be the envy of someone. It troubles me that even someone like Jack could be worthy of envy, simple as he is. But don’t we all strive to live happily and simply? Money complicates all things. If Father weren’t so strict with money when we were growing up, Florence and I might have had a normal upbringing. Everything we did revolved around frugality. And at times it was downright detrimental. I am reminded of family road trips when my father would refuse to let any of us eat until we arrived at the destination because he thought roadside stops were a total waste of money. Angrily he would hunker over his steering wheel as the three of us complained, knowing that we had hours yet to go in the car. We flew by Roy Rogers after Roy Rogers until I became resentful of Roy, hating the very sight of his establishment. How bitter I was toward all the other families going in and getting themselves pretzels or sandwiches.
During one particular trip I needed to pee terribly, so I told my father. He didn’t like stopping for anything, not even bladders, but I began to cry and wail, so I gave him very little choice. He pulled off the highway, and I snuck off into the bushes only to find myself surrounded by blueberries! I picked them, loaded them into my shirt, and took them back to the car. Only after my sister and I had begun gorging ourselves on them did my father ask us what we were doing back there. He promptly lost control of his vehicle after realizing that we were not eating blueberries but enjoying some poisonous pokeberries. As we were on the western border of Pennsylvania, I innocently assumed they were a different variety of blueberry and not another type of berry altogether. Imagine my surprise! My father pulled over and made me knock all the berries onto the ground. By then Florence had begun to cry and ask if she was going to die. By the time we reached the emergency room, we started getting terrible diarrhea. We lost h
ours on the road, and Father was beside himself for having to pay the astronomical emergency room fees. Mother was furious at our father for not allowing us to eat and then subsequently causing me to take desperate measures. But that is the way I am and always shall be. I am a survivor.
There is some smoke off in the distance, southeast. I hope it isn’t a fire. I find that spring tends to make things go a bit sideways in this city.
I can hear Jane moving around in her apartment. Just a walk across the room is a death-defying stunt. I think I’ll go check on her since it looks like it might rain anyway. Speaking of stunts, Rainbow is off performing a show at a youth center in South Philly right about now. It is her first official paid gig in a long time, so she was both excited and nervous all day today. Leading up to this event, she had been using me as a mock audience member. To date she has disappeared Bert, some of my books, and my personal laptop. Rest assured that they were returned moments later but in a flourish of cloth and fire. I cautioned her afterward that Bert is quite flammable and that it probably isn’t the best trick to do on live animals, but she reiterated her professionalism. Additionally, Jack has been an enormous help to her during his downtime at the store. I often hear the two of them cavorting and can’t help but emerge from my quarters and watch. He simply can’t get over her tricks and insists she repeat them so he can catch any faults, but alas he cannot catch any. He once spent five minutes examining Rainbow’s thumb after she pretended to cut it off. There was no blood or sign of injury, but still he insisted she must go straight to urgent care. Eventually, to assuage his mounting concern, Rainbow agreed to go. Jack kindly footed the bill, but along with that came the inevitable embarrassment. Apparently the doctor, after hearing the story, was not amused and, according to Jack, “yelled at me a little for wasting his time.”
Despite my excitement for her, I do wish Rainbow were here, as she, Jane, and I have such fun together. Yes, perhaps I will see how she’s doing. Even though we don’t have any tapes to watch (because I’m pretty sure I sold every one of them), I’m sure there is something worthwhile on cable.
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Tue, May 28, 2019 at 9:09 AM
To: Jack Grisby
Subject: Floorboards
Jack,
Due to the rains last night and the leak in my roof, my floorboards are soaked and warping in the humidity. As I cannot afford a repairman at this time, I am going to hammer the wood back into place and glue it with some wood glue . . . at least until I can afford some help. Please man the register this morning and help anyone who comes in.
Hope you had a lovely pool party, and thank you for bringing the leftovers. It will be nice to have five-star cuisine at lunch today after crawling around on the floor all morning.
Fawn, Owner
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Tue, May 28, 2019 at 12:05 PM
To: Jack Grisby
Subject: Macaroni Salad
Jack,
When going into the refrigerator for lunch, I couldn’t help but notice how the macaroni salad had made its way back, completely intact save a few small spoonfuls. You do know that when I asked you to return my bowl, I meant sans food? Was there some confusion on your part, or did people dislike my salad?
Fawn, Owner
From: Jack Grisby
Sent: Tue, May 28, 2019 at 12:15 PM
To: Fawn Birchill
Re: Macaroni Salad
Hi Fawn,
The chief Moritani saw the salad I brought and was very upset because it smelled funny to him and also was next to his oysters and sushi platter. He called it peasant food and said to get that disgusting abomanation off his table so I did I put it in the poolhouse. He was upset after that and didn’t look at me for the rest of the day and even when he decided to swim he seemed mad I guess swimming couldn’t even cheer him up.
Jack
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Tue, May 28, 2019 at 1:04 PM
To: Jack Grisby
Re: Macaroni Salad
Jack,
I can’t believe Moritani said such things about my salad! And thank you for not sparing any of the gory details. Those are some extremely colorful words that I didn’t think he ever employed. Macaroni salad is not peasant food but a delicious, creamy, filling delight. I greatly apologize for causing such a divide at your event.
Fawn, Owner
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Wed, Jun 5, 2019 at 8:59 AM
To: Florence Eakins
Subject: Hooray for sunny days!
Florence,
Ah, what an exciting time! It has been such a rainy spring that I find myself transformed into a whole new woman on sunny days like this. Currently my employee, Jack, is opening the store while I finish my coffee on the roof with my laptop. Mornings like this remind me why I love Philadelphia so much. In late spring, the city glows in the morning heat and the sun beats down on the buildings, sucking up all the dew from the night before. The rivers seem to sigh their vapors up to the sun, blanketing the atmosphere with their questionable contents. Midday a humid smoggy mist falls over everything and walking outside can feel like a sauna, but this is precisely what I love. The heat has always been a welcome sensation for me: like a big hug and not suffocation, as most people see it. Perhaps it is because menopause is hardly affecting me. Who knows? I may never get it and stay young forever! Ha ha!
For sure we will get loads of people in today—perhaps UPenn students that have decided to stay in the city all summer. We have placed a beautiful array of potted plants and flowers out front and have bought all new store signage to grab people as they walk by. My competitor down the street is insanely jealous by the livening up of my store and shows it by accusing me of stealing his posters! As if I would do such a thing.
I am so glad to hear that Memorial Day was enjoyable, and I am so sorry to have missed Little Joe’s singing. Please know that you are all welcome here any time. I would love to have you. And tell Little Joe that I won’t put him on the spot and make him sing like all his other relatives do each time he visits anyone. I say let the little guy be a kid! For example, Bert is extremely skilled at catching his toys in his mouth. I used to have him do it for customers until one day he realized how degrading it was to be constantly “on” like that, so I believe he purposely “lost” his little toy. Now he just lies around all day and walks off every time a customer approaches him for a pet. This is what happens when we force things. Just a thought!
Fawn
From: Florence Eakins
Sent: Wed, Jun 5, 2019 at 11:12 AM
To: Fawn Birchill
Re: Hooray for sunny days!
Hi Fawn,
Nice to hear from you. I’m really glad you’re enjoying the weather. I think I’m going to take a walk during my lunch break—it’s been kind of a stressful day here.
Regarding Little Joe, he’s the one who insists upon singing all the time. It’s not us. It’s a little annoying that you think that’s something we’d do to him. I’m very protective of my kids and would never be that kind of mom. If you spent more time with us, you’d probably understand that. Sorry if this is harsh. I’m having one of those days.
Flo
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Wed, Jun 5, 2019 at 12:34 PM
To: Jack Grisby
Subject: Toilet
Jack,
Please do not use the customer bathroom. I’ve told you, go into my apartment and use my toilet. And do not blame this mishap on the macaroni salad. If your stomach is so sensitive that you can’t handle a little pasta and canned tuna, then you have bigger problems.
Fawn, Owner
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Wed, Jun 5, 2019 at 12:56 PM
To: Jack Grisby
Re: Toilet
Jack,
On second thought, I just checked the expiration date for the mayonnaise that I used in the salad, and it looks like it expired last year around this time. I thou
ght it smelled funny a couple of weeks ago but blamed it on being a knockoff mayonnaise brand, not something out of date. I am truly sorry for the inconvenience this has caused on your intestinal system. I suppose it is rather fortuitous that no one at your party ate the salad or you would have all been rushing to the bathroom.
We frugal ones like to keep things a bit longer than we should. Once my father kept a small carton of eggs for months and months until Christmas morning when he decided to surprise us with a scrambled-egg breakfast. Needless to say, we opened our presents between bathroom breaks.
Fawn, Owner
From: Tabitha Birchill
Sent: Fri, Jun 7, 2019 at 5:46 AM
To: Fawn Birchill
Subject: State of mind
Dear Fawn,
Are you doing all right? I tried calling you yesterday, but you didn’t pick up. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard your voice. I don’t know why you are wondering about the fact that we never bought you a pool when you were a child. It was a long time ago.
If you must know, it was because your father was frugal. I tried to convince him to buy one since you were both such hard workers, but he wouldn’t listen. We took you to the Jersey Shore quite often because we thought it was important you experienced swimming and the only cost was fuel and a quick lunch. Cheaper than buying and maintaining a pool, by far.
I heard there was another building collapse in the city. Was it anywhere near you?
In the coming weeks I’m going to be a bit busy with things, but perhaps I can pop in one day after that?
Love you,
Mother
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Fri, Jun 7, 2019 at 6:00 AM
To: Tabitha Birchill
Re: State of mind
Mother,
Thank you for your concern, but I’m having a hard time understanding it, as it seems to have come entirely out of the blue. Once again, I must remind you that the one time you came to visit me, you showed up unannounced as if to intentionally catch me in the state in which you found me. I must reiterate that I was on my way to dinner and was having a whirlwind of a busy day. Instead of springing visits on me, perhaps it would be better to plan something. I know you are capable of doing that with Florence almost every weekend.
Confessions of a Curious Bookseller Page 24
