Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
It took a moment. “I’m sorry, what? Method acting? Is that what you said?”
“I just don’t want the calls to ever be because you have to, but instead because you want to,” I made clear. “Talking to me has to be the best part of your day, not a chore. Never a chore.”
We were both silent, looking inside the store.
“I just—I can’t imagine a time when I won’t be as enchanted as I am now.”
“Enchanted?” I smiled at him.
He groaned miserably. “I don’t want us to be apart.”
“But we will be, and that’s okay. We just both have to be committed to making sure the other person knows, at all times, where we stand and what we want.”
He reached out and put a hand on my cheek. “I promise if you get food poisoning, I will walk off my movie set to come take care of you while you’re bazooka barfing.”
I scowled at him.
“What? That’s not romantic?”
“For starters, you’d be sued if you walked off a movie set, but why am I vomiting in this scenario? Why the food poisoning?”
“That’s what I was last sick with, which is why I am no longer eating eggs at breakfast. Pancakes, French toast—”
“Which are both made with eggs,” I pointed out.
“I mean, like, scrambled and stuff like that.”
“I see. How long has it been since you had eggs?”
“I’d rather not say.” He let his hand slip off my cheek and took hold of my bicep. “Now let’s go inside because you’re freezing. That sweater isn’t doing enough to keep you warm.”
Leading me, holding the door so I could go in first, jingling bells announced our presence as we wiped our feet on the designated mat.
“Hello,” a woman in a leather apron called out from behind the counter, giving us a wave. “Welcome to Avalon Books and Tea. I’m Kiyomi Robinson, and you two have excellent timing. My husband, Noel, has just brewed some hearty Earl Grey, and all the tables are open and ready for sitting and reading.”
That sounded heavenly.
“How does it work?” Ash asked, smiling at her as we approached the ancient-looking counter, and I noticed locked cases of old books behind her.
She pointed to the right. “First you go pick a mug, then I’ll fill it for you, then you walk over to the milk-lemon-sugar-and-honey station and doctor it up how you like it.”
“Sounds good.”
“You can read any book you like, just make sure to put it back when you’re done or leave a dollar in the jar on the way out.”
They made their own honey, as well as beeswax candles—lavender and unscented—and they also sold lavender in bundles or wreaths.
“Guess what kind of farm we have?” Kiyomi asked Ash.
“Lavender?”
She shook her head and turned to me. “Your guess?”
“Blueberry.”
Her smile was wide. “Very good.”
“Why is that a better guess than mine? There’s not one blueberry in here.”
“There’s a blueberry cobbler in the oven. I will get you a piece as soon as it’s done.”
“That sounds amazing,” Ash told her.
“And to answer your question, Maine is world famous for wild blueberries and potatoes, but your beau correctly assumed I am not a potato farmer.”
“My beau?”
She tipped her head as she regarded him. “I would say so, yes. You keep touching him. Are you aware that you’re doing that?”
He sighed deeply. “I’m enchanted by him.”
“Oh good,” she said, smiling at me. “That’s what you want. My husband is still enchanted with me, and it’s been fifty-two years and counting.”
“How wonderful,” Ash mused.
“I know. You boys have to do the same once the rings go on.”
I leaned on the counter. “We met yesterday.”
She nodded. “I met my husband on a Tuesday morning in May in 1972 at Los Angeles City College. I had just started classes, and he was a groundskeeper.”
“This sounds like a good story.”
Kiyomi smiled at me. “We got married in June, and three months after that, he shipped off to Vietnam.”
“How long was he there?”
“He did three tours while I worked and got my degree in history so I could teach school, and he returned home to me and we haven’t been apart since, even though he’ll tell you I drive him nuts.”
“Bananas,” an elderly Black man corrected her as he came from the back, walked up to the counter, and placed a large teapot on the warming stand beside his wife. “She drives me bananas. I’m not much for nuts.”
“These young men met yesterday.”
He nodded. “Well, you make a nice-looking couple.”
“Thank you,” I said softly. “May I ask you, sir, how did you deal with being apart for so long? How did you and Kiyomi keep the connection alive?”
“Well, it helps to be in love. Are you in love?”
“I’m in lust with a lot of like,” I told him.
“That’s an excellent start,” he assured me, taking hold of my shoulder. “And you have to communicate. I wrote every day, and so did she.”