CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: RE: Every little thing
My darling girl,
What a conundrum!
This young man sounds as if he made quite an impression upon you. But I quite understand your reticence about inviting anyone else into your life so soon after Otis.
On the other hand, I think your need to be seen for who you are on your own is a good one and should be heeded. Friends are like books: you can never have too many. We meet people throughout our lives that resonate with different aspects of who we are. Breaking away from a relationship is a tough thing but will bring out new things in you that new people can share. Maybe the young man at the party has unlocked that need in you to spread your social circle. It could well be that he was just meant to be there, on that night, to make you realise you were changing. You have to decide if you just need new friends or if he is the new friend you want in your life.
Whatever you decide to do, I know you’ll follow your heart. You always have, my love, and I consider it one of your best features. Don’t let your recent disappointment deter you from pursuing new friendships. The man you met at the party may well be the key to your next great life adventure. I think you need a friend who appreciates who you are with no prior knowledge of your life. In my experience, life tends to send us new acquaintances to show us who we are becoming. It might be the handsome barman, it might not. The most important thing is that you find what makes you happy and pursue it with all your heart.
Keep me in the loop, darling. I’m crossing everything crossable for you.
Fondest love,
Grandma Dot xx
‘Would you mind if I take this afternoon off?’ Bea asked Russ next day. Since her decision late last night – and the email she had received from her grandmother this morning – Bea had firmly decided on visiting Rosie. If she needed new friends, Rosie seemed the obvious – and safer – choice.
‘This afternoon?’ Russ asked, aghast.
‘Yes. You weren’t planning on taking it off, were you?’
‘No.’
‘So is it all right if I do?’
Russ handed Bea a large paper cup of coffee from the bookstore’s new espresso machine. ‘Are we talking the whole afternoon?’
Bea couldn’t decipher his mood: was he complaining or simply surprised at her sudden request? ‘Yes, all afternoon. Is there a problem?’
‘Yes, there’s a problem,’ Russ retorted. ‘The problem is that you never take time off. Not unless you’re sick – and even then I’ve had to send you home when you’ve insisted on working.’
Bea was on edge enough this morning without having to endure her friend’s sarcasm. ‘Russ. Do you mind, or not?’
‘Of course I don’t. I’m just shocked you asked. Is everything OK?’
Bea sipped her coffee. ‘Everything’s fine. But I’m tired after Celia’s event and I thought I should take it easy today.’
‘Good call. You deserve it.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. Just promise me that you’ll have fun whatever you do. Knowing you a day off mightn’t happen again for another five years …’
All morning, Bea kept herself busy with stock ordering, invoice filing and countless other mundane tasks that would distract her from her plan. What would she say to Rosie? ‘Shall we be friends?’ sounded so needy … If she thought about it too much, she knew she would back out at the last minute. But Grandma Dot was right: she had to follow her heart.
At midday, Bea found Rosie’s card and called Kowalski’s. A young woman answered and passed the call over to Rosie when Bea asked to speak to her.
‘Hello, Rosie Duncan speaking.’
‘Hi Rosie, it’s Bea James. From Hudson River Books? We met last night.’
‘Oh, hello! Nice to hear from you.’
‘I was wondering if your offer of coffee and a chinwag was still open?’ Please say yes, she silently willed.
‘Today? That would be wonderful! What time shall we expect you?’
Bea looked at her watch, not wanting to sound too eager. ‘I could perhaps get to you for about one-ish?’
‘Brilliant. See you soon.’
With everything in place, there was only one thing left to do. Collecting her bag from the bookstore office and saying goodbye to Russ, Bea stepped out onto 8th Avenue and hailed a cab.
‘Where to, lady?’ asked the driver.
‘Upper West Side, corner of West 68th Street and Columbus Avenue, please.’
Settling into the back seat, Bea watched Brooklyn pass by and Manhattan loom ahead. It was exciting to imagine what Rosie’s store might look like and she felt deliciously naughty to be heading there on a weekday when she should be at work.
‘This is it: corner West 68th and Columbus,’ the cab driver announced. ‘My mother uses this florist.’
‘I’m visiting the owner, actually.’
‘Rosie? You’ll love her. My ma loves her so much she sends her Christmas cards.’
Bea paid the driver and stared up at the frontage of the Upper West Side flower shop. Like everything in this neighbourhood, the shop had a bespoke awning over its entrance and a beautifully chalked A-board on the wide sidewalk, bearing the message:
WELCOME TO KOWALSKI’S
In front of the shop, buckets of arranged bouquets provided a riot of colour against the greyness of the building and Bea could see a rainbow of blooms through the window. It looked chic but inviting, not like some of the florists’ shops in the city, which usually had ‘boutique’ in their title. Kowalski’s was the kind of florist you weren’t afraid to enter.
A little silver bell rang out as she entered and Bea looked up to see it swinging above the doorway. The shop was busy, with three customers at the counter and another couple browsing the bank of flowers in galvanised steel buckets. From behind the counter, Bea saw Rosie wave and beckon her over.
‘Hi Bea! Let me serve these customers and I’ll be right with you. Take a seat by the window and make yourself comfortable.’
Bea sat on a battered, brown leather sofa placed in the large window overlooking Columbus Avenue and took off her coat. She was a little apprehensive but made a concerted effort to relax. The comfort of the sofa and the incredible aroma of flowers and greenery, together with the smell of freshly brewed coffee helped to calm Bea’s nerves. An odd metallic clunking sound came from behind the counter, like a robot falling slowly down a metal staircase, but neither Rosie nor the very pregnant woman with blue-black hair next to her seemed to notice.
While she waited, Bea watched Rosie serving her customers. She appeared to know and be on first-name terms with everyone, asking about their kids, their grandkids, their new job, or their latest holiday. The whole shop felt like a community hub, where customers were family, and Rosie made every conversation personal to each one. This was definitely Rosie’s store: from the little Bea had learned about her since the party and their chat at Celia’s book launch, she could see her positivity and sunny nature in every aspect of Kowalski’s.
It reminded Bea of her own store and she instantly felt affinity with Rosie. From Hudson River Books’ inception, both Bea and Russ had been adamant that their bookstore would be inclusive, welcoming to all and, most importantly, a place people would always want to return to. Being an independent business, they’d had to work hard to offer the kind of service large chains and online retailers couldn’t, especially as it was impossible to compete on price alone. Luckily for them, 8th Avenue was part of a neighbourhood where local people loved the difference of independents; where creativity was a selling point rather than an expensive distraction from discounts. Brooklyn residents liked to feel businesses were designed for them and were willing to be more adventurous than their Manhattan counterparts. Consequently, the whole area had recently seen
an explosion of new, diverse businesses, which sat alongside long-established, family-run shops and restaurants, faithfully frequented by generations of Brooklyn customers. It was tough to succeed there and many new ventures failed, but if the neighbourhood took you to their hearts you thrived.
The last of the customers left with their purchases and Rosie headed over to Bea, handing her a steaming mug.
‘Present from Old F,’ she said, laughing when she saw Bea’s confusion. ‘Sorry. Our resident coffee machine. You might have heard him working a few minutes ago.’
‘Oh, that’s what it was,’ Bea smiled, accepting it. ‘I thought something was dying.’
‘That’s what a lot of my customers say. Until they’ve tried his coffee.’
‘It is good.’
‘Thank you. Anyway, it’s good to see you. So, what do you think of Kowalski’s?’
Bea looked around again. ‘I love it. It’s beautiful. And your customers certainly seem to love it, too.’
‘Yes, we’re really lucky on that score. The previous owner made an impact on many people’s lives and started something in this neighbourhood that they have wanted to see continue. Ed and I both feel the responsibility of that and we’ve worked hard to maintain it.’
‘It certainly seems to be working,’ Bea replied, seeing the way her compliment made Rosie beam with pride.
‘I love your store, too, by the way,’ Rosie replied. ‘Celia had been raving about the bookstore for weeks and I was excited to see it. You and Russ have created a really unique place. He’s a nice bloke, by the way. You two seem very comfortable together.’ Her eyes widened in shock as she realised what she’d said. ‘Oh, I’m sorry! That was very presumptuous of me.’
Bea laughed. ‘It’s OK, you’re not the first person to think we’re a couple. We’re just business partners and really good friends.’
‘I’m sorry. That’s how Ed and I started out, that’s all. I keep forgetting we’re the only ones daft enough to turn a working friendship into a relationship. But your closeness shows in your business – I think that was what I was trying to say.’
‘Thank you. We’re just starting out in many ways, but I’m proud that we seem to have become a favourite for local people. If we can establish something they want to return to again and again, I think we’ll be there for the long haul.’
‘That’s a great thing to aim for,’ Rosie smiled. ‘But I’m guessing you didn’t visit today to swap business tips.’
Bea could feel the redhead blush creeping up the back of her neck. How desperate was she going to appear if she told Rosie the real reason for being there? Conjuring up Grandma Dot’s words in her mind for courage, she took a deep breath. ‘I’m trying to make new friends in the city. The thing is, I’ve just left a long-term relationship and I feel like I’m changing as a person, but the friends I have – and they’re great friends, honestly – don’t seem to see the changes in me. It’s made me think that I need to widen my social circle; meet people who will see me for who I am now, not who I have been before.’ Embarrassed by her own words, she laughed. ‘And that sounds totally needy. I’m sorry.’
Rosie surveyed her, amused. ‘It’s not needy at all. I’d say it’s very sensible. When I first arrived in New York I didn’t really know anyone, except Celia, and even then it was the most tenuous of acquaintances. All my friends I made here only knew me from that moment and it was refreshing to be able to be myself without people knowing everything about my life.’
Bea felt a rush of gratitude. ‘That’s what I think I’m looking for. Maybe it’s a British thing: we don’t like putting ourselves out there.’
‘Oh, I understand that completely. But once you’re in New York you meet people who don’t mind asking to be your friend. In many ways it can be easier to make friends here than in England for that reason. Although you do get some nutters marching up to you sometimes.’
‘Like me,’ Bea smiled.
‘Don’t be daft,’ Rosie laughed. ‘Listen, you’re welcome here any time. And if you fancy hanging out some time, that would be lovely. Nice to be able to chat about British stuff without someone assuming you live in a castle or know the Queen.’
‘Do you get that too?’
‘Oh, all the time! That or, “You’re from England? My cousin is from Scotland, do you know her?” I know we’re meant to be a small island, but not that small!’
‘When I first met Russ, he was convinced I was distantly related to the Royal Family. I think he thought everyone in the UK was.’
‘That’s sweet. So how do you find running a business with your friend?’
‘It’s great, most of the time. Sometimes we clash but I think that always happens when you’ve known someone for a long time. He doesn’t understand why I broke up with my boyfriend, unfortunately: they’ve been friends for a while.’
Rosie grimaced. ‘That must be awkward.’
‘It is, a little. But I know I made the right decision and I have to stick to it. That’s why I’m giving up on relationships.’
‘Really?’
Bea nodded. ‘It’s something someone at your engagement party suggested, actually.’
Bea could tell that this intrigued her new friend. ‘Oh? Who was that?’
‘The barman.’
Rosie laughed. ‘Things have to be bad if you’re taking advice from a barman.’
Considering how it would sound to Bea if the roles were reversed, she had to agree. ‘I know. But your barman was … different. Apparently he was going through a divorce and felt exactly the same. We had a great conversation about it and then he suggested we make a pact to swear off relationships. So, we did.’
‘Wow. I had no idea we had such a philosopher in our midst! But you aren’t serious about this pact, are you? It seems a little drastic.’
‘Actually, I am. I wish I’d been able to talk to the barman for longer, to be honest. It was good to meet someone in the same boat as I am.’
‘Maybe you should have asked for his number.’ Rosie winked at Bea as she took her empty coffee cup. ‘The bloke sounds like a true original. More coffee?’
‘Love one, thanks.’ Bea watched Rosie walk behind the counter. It was good to be able to chat with someone new, but why had she ended up talking about Jake? It was only natural, she decided; meeting him had created a desire to include new people in her life, which was the main reason she’d come to Kowalski’s today.
This is all part of becoming the person I want to be, she told herself. New life, new outlook, new acquaintances … Who knows where this will take me?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jake’s practice, McKevitt Buildings, Broadway
‘Provided you’re satisfied with our practice protocol, I see no reason why we can’t shake on it now,’ Jake smiled at the psychiatrist sitting opposite him, mentally crossing another item off his to-do list. It had been a good morning, with progress made on several fronts, but this was by far his greatest achievement. Even Desiree had to be proud of this one …
Dr Tom Stephens grinned a wide, white smile and reached across Jake’s desk to shake his hand. ‘I’m looking forward to working with you, Jake. I’m excited about where you want to take this practice.’
‘Great. Listen, talk with Desiree and she will arrange everything you need for your office. It’s going to be good sharing the business with you. I have to say, you come highly recommended by my former practice partner.’
Tom laughed as he stood. ‘Bob Dillinger is a kind man. Especially as I regularly win our golf tournaments. He speaks highly of you, but I’m sure you know that.’ He shook hands again with Jake. ‘I’ll arrange to move in during the next week or so. You won’t regret this, Jake.’
There were many things Jake might live to regret, but he was certain that appointing Tom Stephens as his junior partner was not one of them. As soon as he began to plan his new practice in New York, Jake had decided he wanted another professional to share the workload. Dr Stephens came with an im
pressive client list and several specialist qualifications, all of which would help to boost the practice and widen the scope of services they could offer to the people of New York. It was a financial gamble, but Jake had learned from experience that the right mix of personnel in a psychiatry practice could reap big rewards. Might as well start as he meant to go on …
The intercom on his desk telephone buzzed. ‘Hey Desiree.’
‘I have your brother on Line One,’ his PA informed him.
‘Thanks. Put him through, would you?’ Jake waited for the click as the call was transferred. ‘Eduardo! To what do I owe this honour?’
‘I’ve got news, Jakey-boy. Are you ready?’ He inserted a dramatic pause for effect. ‘We found her.’
Stunned, Jake sunk back into his chair. ‘Do you mean …?’
‘Rosie figured it out.’
‘And?’
‘Her name is Bea James. She’s the sister of Rosie’s friend Celia’s partner, Stewart. They brought her to the party. And she doesn’t just work in a bookstore, she owns one.’
‘Where?’
Ed laughed. ‘I knew you’d love me.’
‘I do. Where can I find her?’
‘Her bookstore is Hudson River Books, on 8th Avenue in Brooklyn. So go get her, bro!’
‘I’m not going to “get her”. I’m going to see if she’d like to chat some more.’
Ed groaned. ‘Whatever. Just go.’
Jake didn’t need to think about his next move. Leaving the office in Desiree’s very capable hands, he hailed a cab on Broadway and headed towards Brooklyn …
Rain had started falling when the cab turned onto 8th Avenue, coming to a halt outside a small bookstore. Jake had somehow expected it to be bigger, but as he ducked out of the cab onto the sidewalk he felt a surge of anticipation power through him.
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