Page 85 of A Bookish Story

Once we’re done setting up, I have nothing to do with myself. She suggests I find a cozy corner in the back and wait for people to start arriving. I settle in the historical fiction section and find one of Ryan’s earlier books on the shelf. He will be excited to know it’s the only one left in stock. Flipping to the back, I study his author photo. The black-and-white photo is of him outside at a patio table. I notice a photo credit to Millie Brady. She certainly got a good angle of him, and the photo is so similar to the Ryan I know I’m sure he wasn’t airbrushed. They probably don’t airbrush male authors and a spike of unsettling indignation courses through me. Sure, I’m no Taylor Swift but I think I look fine without airbrushing. I’ve got a few freckles and that teeny-tiny scar from the time I fell off my bicycle but that’s no crime.

I text Ryan to commiserate:

I’m waiting in the histfic area and picked up your book. It’s the only one in stock. *You* don’t look airbrushed.

Ryan replies:

I’m probably not, whatever that is. You’re already there? You have two hours to go.

Me:

I was nervous so I got here early. When will you be here?

Ryan:

I’ll be there before it starts. Promise. Save me a seat near the front.

This means he’ll be here beforehand to give me a hug, hold me, encourage and assure me. It would be too odd for any of this to happen without him. Besides, I want him to hear all the praise for the book because this is his baby.

There are a few customers in the shop who drop in and out during the three-hour wait and ask about the signing. Some pass by me and give me a patient look, as if I’m taking up too much space. I move when someone reaches for Ryan’s first book, The Brother’s Spy.

“That’s a very good one,” I say. “You’ll like it.”

It’s the only one I’ve read other than the book and I can no longer tell if my feelings for him are affecting my thoughts about the book.

“He’s my favorite author and I’m catching up to all he’s ever written.” The woman beams, pressing it to her bosom. “It’s like he sees me. Pain on every page. So cathartic.”

“Yes,” I say, biting my lower lip. “You can say that again.”

I want to tell her he’s also funny, self-deprecating, and the most intelligent man I’ve ever known. She’s going to be thrilled if she stays for the signing because she might actually get to meet him.

“Stay for the signing,” I say. “He’s a friend and might drop by.”

“Really?” she gasps.

I nod, though I don’t want to jinx myself. Of course he’ll be here. He said he would be.

Sofia and all the cousins arrive and she finds me in the back.

“Good luck!” Her tight hug is what I needed. “Is it okay if I film this and share in on social media?”

“I’m sure the publisher wants all the publicity we can get.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll edit,” she promises then looks to the front. “I think we’re starting. No nerves! Remember, you’ve got this.”

I grab her hands before she goes. “Did you see Ryan out there?”

“I didn’t, but the place is jam-packed so I could have missed him.”

“We have a full house?”

Sofia smiles. “Actually, there’s a line out the door to get in.”

It feels like all the breath leaves my body and I’m sure my smile freezes in place because Sofia’s eyes narrow. I do not want to disappoint all these people. It would be tragic.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m f-fine.” Though I would very much like Ryan to be with me at the moment. “If you find Ryan, could you send him back here?”