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The tinkling of the bell has me spinning where I stand, and I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face at the sight of Reid, dressed in a pair of joggers and a tight cotton tee, walking through the door.
“Wow, this place looks great!” he enthuses, his eyes tracking over all the work that has gone into getting the shop in shape over the past few weeks. He points at the leaves on the ceiling. “You seriously painted all of this?”
I nod, my eyes following his around the room, trying to see everything from his vantage point. He stands smack in the middle, staring up at the ceiling, taking in the large leaves Briar agreed to—and that took me many, many hours and created a little pinch in the back of my neck that I can still feel when I think about it—his mouth slightly open.
“You’re incredibly talented.”
I roll my eyes, trying not to let his words carve too deeply into my chest.
“They’re just leaves.”
He shakes his head. “I couldn’t do something like that. Don’t downplay your talent when you’ve clearly worked very hard at it.”
Okay, so maybe I letthosewords trickle through the heart of me.
“I really like the vibe. It feels like…a fairytale forest.”
I beam at him. “That’s what I said! Briar was talking about making it feel like you’re hunting for books, and I said those exact words, fairytale forest.”
He continues strolling around, examining the special plant holders we finally got installed on Friday, a variety of live hanging plants peppering the room. Boston ferns and English ivy, philodendrons and string of hearts. It has really brought this place to life.
Now, all that’s left are the books.
Once Reid has finished snooping around, we get to work on the final boxes that need to be shelved. It’s primarily thriller and fantasy/sci-fi that remain, and I take a few minutes to explain to Reid how we’re organizing things before we get started. Then, I turn on some music and we get moving.
We’re mostly silent over the next two hours, though I do regular check-ins to see how things are going. It’s not every day someone gives up his Sunday afternoon to help you shelve books, and I can’t help but feel pleased at the fact that he’s doing it for me.
Or for Briar. Or the community. I shouldn’t assume it’s about me. Right?
After three hours, we finally finish, and we head to Ugly Mug for a caffeine boost and a pastry to celebrate.
“Thanks again for all your help,” I say as we take a seat at a table in the corner. “It would have taken me all day to do it on my own.”
Reid shrugs. “Not a problem. Glad I could help.”
“And thanks for inviting Junie and me on the hike yesterday, too. She’s been talking about it almost non-stop. I think you’ve officially converted her into a hiking girly.”
He grins. “Good. Glad to know I’m having a good influence.”
“Absolutely. And on me, too. I was on the fence at first, but it was actually really great to wander around in the woods for a bit.”
Reid chuckles. “You say that like you weren’t sure you were going to enjoy it.”
I shrug. “Sometimes you get out of the habit of doing something you love, remember?” I tell him, calling back to our conversation a few weeks ago. “It’s just been a long time.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I understand how you feel. It’s exactly how I felt when I jumped into the lake on Friday.”
I can’t help the pleased smile that stretches across my face. “Really?”
He nods. “Yeah. I think I’ve been avoiding swimming because I’m afraid of accepting that I’m not the same swimmer I used to be. That as I get older, my body will struggle to achieve the things it used to excel at.”
“But I think that’s some of what makes a hobby so special, right?” I reply. “It isn’t about beingexcellent, it’s just about the joy.”
I know it sounds cheesy, and if I had to guess, he’s trying not to roll his eyes at me right now. But it really is the truth.
“So I guess what I’m trying to say is…don’t be so hard on yourself. You know? Just get in the water.”
