The Bookseller

 Over the week I have tried to spend some extra time with my Charlie girl. She just turned 11 and even though right now she is still a child through and through, the changes will be here in a flash. We walked around town, Both of us with whatever was easiest to throw on and comfy, her hair in a very messy ponytail and me with spit up on my shirt and mom sneakers. 

We pushed Weldon through busy sidewalks and across a park where a very fancy car show was taking place. Poor Charlie lifted the stroller up and down three separate flights stairs for me while “gentleman” pushed past her in 400 dollar shirts without even glancing at us, certainly not willing to help. Rob, who was not with us, would have been mortified. 

After all this, we managed to make it to the doorstep of the little used bookstore in town where we both breathed a sigh of relief. Bookstores are to us what those old taverns along various travel routes were to the weary travelers of yesteryear. Respite. The man behind the counter was slightly cross eyed and very old. He wore a bowtie and immediately began joking back and forth with me about the fancy people that had invaded his town for the car show. His co-worker, an octogenarian with her hair in plaits, cooed over Weldon and directed Charlie to the children’s section up the old staircase. I wandered the stacks pushing Weldon and eventually joined Charlie in the children's section. I was beyond excited when I pulled out two books from my childhood, The Great Gilly Hopkins and Sixth Grade Can Really Kill You. Both had the same covers I remember clutching when I was 11. “Homeschool summer reading starts now!” I exclaimed. I brought the books to the front and my gentleman friend at the desk pointed behind me. “You're a book person. That one.” He said with a wink. Once Upon a Tome. The cover is beautiful. The Misadventures of a Rare Bookseller it read across the top in script. Sold. Charlie and I found a bench by the river and opened our books. 

 

This trip has been magical in some ways. Heart wrenching in others. So much wonderful change and growth is happening in our little family. We can smell and taste our future together. But each step into that bright future is another step further from them. They will start their own journeys. At least I can try to  make sure they pack good books.