16. Chapter 16

sixteen

"No, no, no!" Tiptoe shook his head decisively. "We'll have none of that! You may be pleasantly surprised at how skillful Tarryfoot and I can be with a needle!"

Tarryfoot stomped one foot in accord. "Just so."

"Well, okay, if it suits the two of you, it suits me." Harper had gathered them all together and shown them an online fabric catalog. Then she had each of them pick out fabric for their own cushions. On the day the bolts of cloth arrived, she met them all downstairs near their new room, the spacious closet under the stairs. Once she had their approval, she gathered up the cloth to take to a seamstress in town.

But when the brownies understood that she intended to pay for the labor, they were incensed. They insisted they would do the work themselves. They each whipped out a packet of needles in varying sizes and held them out for Harper's inspection to prove their fitness for the task. Harper gave in willingly. After handing over the cushions the fabric was to cover, she left them to their work.

That settled, she asked again about providing food for them. They'd responded yes, they would like food, if she didn't mind supplying it from November 1 through May 1. Unless something unusual was going on, during the rest of the year, they preferred to eat whatever nature itself offered.

The room was to be ready for them before November 1, a big holiday of theirs, when their winter season officially began. Harper had asked one of the carpenters who had worked on the shop to make a table, low to the ground, for them to use as they wished. She had chosen a forest green woolen carpet to cover the concrete floor. Harper asked about the stories that if you offered clothing to faeries, brownies in particular, they would leave and never return.

"That is correct." Tarryfoot chirped, pleased that she knew of the custom. "Emphasis there is on clothing. You're not planning to offer us little breeches and jackets now, are you?"

Harper assured him she wouldn't dare.

"Well then, it's not a problem, is it?" he asked as he cartwheeled away from her.

Harper was busy and happy, but also tired. While the visit with Grandma Sophie had been comforting, it was also a shock. She felt overrun by emotions and memories. Her worldview had undergone a complete overhaul. Since she was ten years old, she had convinced herself that she was nothing special and that her life was destined to be dull. It was no longer possible to believe that. Now she felt exhilarated on the one hand and exposed on the other. In addition, she feared the shop could not possibly be ready to open by the Whippoorwill Gap Mountain Folklife Festival—only six weeks away—as she had planned.

One impossibly bright September morning, Harper was rehashing what to place in the smallest bookroom when she heard a knock at the front door. She took her time in looking to see who was there, expecting it to be Quinn Ellis again. That man was alarmingly persistent, and Harper had gotten used to ignoring his visits. No one from the department had told her not to work with Quinn, but she decided he could wait until opening day to see the shop.

But when she got to the entrance, ready to shake her head and mouth "not now" at him, she saw, with surprise, that Bryan Greene stood at the door. Harper's stomach clenched. While Quinn proved easy to brush off, Bryan still intimidated her. And she wasn't exactly sure why. Lately, he had been sending her emails requesting they get together for a chat. She had ignored them. Ever since their conversation at February's Chamber of Commerce meeting, Harper had dreaded talking with him about the shop. She wasn't afraid of him, but for some reason, she found it difficult to think when he was around.

The next Chamber meeting was in a couple of weeks. Since it was the last open meeting before the festival, she planned to attend this one. She knew she'd see him then, and that was soon enough for her. But here he was, waving to her through the display window and pointing at the door. Now that he'd spotted her, it was too late to sit down behind the counter and hide. So, suppressing her annoyance, Harper opened the door.

"Hello, Bryan." She granted him a small, tight smile. "What brings you over today?"

He gave her a quick, compressed smile in return, which did nothing to take attention from the curly dark hair hanging above his startling blue eyes. He's too young for me. The involuntary thought made her face hot.

"Harper, have you read any of the emails I've sent you? I know you're opening them because I've set them to notify me when you do."

Sensing that this conversation might best take place in private instead of on the street, Harper stepped out of the way and motioned him in. She didn't ask him to have a seat. Instead, she moved behind the checkout counter, wanting something solid between them. She returned his stare with an expressionless one of her own.

"Do you remember when we talked at the Chamber meeting last winter? I asked you if you wanted to continue the arrangement Frank and I had." Harper noted his speech was abnormally rapid. He paused and swallowed. "He bought some of my leftover merchandise to sell here at a discount. I've been waiting to hear back from you ever since."

She looked down at the countertop for a few seconds and then looked back up. "I haven't decided. I think I told you then, I'd rather decide after I open the shop."

"Why wait? I've got plenty of stock you could use right now." He looked around as if to indicate that, obviously, her shelves were shamefully bare. "It will look better if you have a bigger inventory when you open. You know, there's a lot to running a bookshop, even a used one. And with no experience you may be surprised at the problems that can pop up. I could help you out in all kinds of ways."

Despite his confident tone, Harper detected an undercurrent of nervousness about him, making her suspicious. She looked over his shoulder. Earl Grey was standing at the top of the basement stairs, making an obscene gesture at Bryan's back. That relieved the tension, and Harper choked down a laugh. Seeing her smile, Bryan frowned, his face turning pink.

"Well, maybe you think that's funny, but I have decades of experience in the bookstore business. I can keep you from making lots of mistakes."

For a second, Harper wondered if she was being stubborn and silly. Maybe she could use a person with experience to help her run the shop, at least in the beginning.

But then she glanced back at Earl Grey, now joined by Ash and Ivy. While Ivy was looking on with narrowed eyes, Ash was wearing a tight-lipped smile, while shaking his head. Their message was clear. She looked Bryan straight in the eye.

"You may be right, Bryan. But I want to run the shop for a while before I make agreements with anyone. You're not the only one trying to get me to make decisions about the shop that I'm not sure will suit me."

"Who else …?"

She interrupted. "It doesn't matter who else. Thank you for thinking of me. I do want us to get along. Maybe we can work together at some point. But I need time to figure out what works best for me. If I make mistakes, I'll learn from them like everyone else does. I hope you understand."

Behind him she saw the three Fae join hands and begin rising in mid-air, dancing a silent reel. She smiled again, despite her anxiety.

Bryan shook his head, but to her surprise, he returned her smile. Even more unexpected, his smile was pleasant. "Okay, Harper, I've done my best. I'm glad you're keeping the door open to possible collaborations. Can I help you with anything before your grand opening? If you have any printed up, I could put out signs and give out postcards or bookmarks printed with your business info."

Harper felt blindsided; she hadn't expected this generosity. Sensing her reaction, he continued. "Here in Whippoorwill Gap, businesspeople help each other out. We aren't all best friends, but we do support each other. So, whether we work together or not, I will support you and I hope you'll do the same for me."

Harper examined his handsome face and noted the crow's feet around his eyes. Maybe he was older than she thought? "That's a good idea. I'll make some posters and bookmarks and I'll get some to you. Of course, I'll be happy to return the favor."

His shoulders relaxed for the first time. "Here's my suggestion. Order them today and hand them out at the Chamber meeting this month. People will be happy to advertise for you."

"I'll do that this afternoon. I do appreciate the suggestion. Forgive me for not answering your emails, I've been focused on getting everything ready."

He nodded and knocked twice on the countertop before turning towards the door. Seeing that her friends had disappeared, Harper breathed a sigh of relief.

He stopped at the door. "I'll see you at the Chamber meeting, then?"

"Yes. I'll be there. See you then." As she locked the door, he turned back as if to say something else, but she pretended not to notice and walked to the back of the shop. When she glanced back at the front door, he was gone.

That afternoon, she made a trip to the local printshop where she'd had her building's sign designed and produced. The sign, which hung above the entrance, was a replica of the shop's original sign from 1923. The seafoam green background highlighted a charming painting of robins in a nest, with a little gnome holding a basket of books out to them. Happy with the printshop's design, Harper ordered a generous supply of bookmarks and small posters with the same image, as well as her address and phone number.

Excited by the day's events, Harper invited all the Fae to her apartment for an evening of snacks and conversation. After popping popcorn, she closed the curtains so no one passing by would see them zipping through the air.

Earl Grey entertained the others by mimicking Bryan Greene from earlier in the day. "And then he said to our Miss Harper here, ‘I can keep you from making lots of mistakes.' The nerve of that jackanape!"

Tarryfoot looked over at Harper, arms crossed, with a serious expression on his diminutive face. "Would you like for me and Tiptoe to go over to his shop and give him some of the ‘help' he deserves?"

Alarmed, Harper started to shake her head, and they all broke out into peals of bell-like laughter. "Give him some ‘help,' that's a good one!" Lily piped as she zipped around the sofa. Then Harper realized this was their way of being supportive. She laughed with them in delight.

"At least I know you're on my side! But I think you missed the part where he really did give me a good idea. Maybe we're being too hard on him?"

"Pshaw!" Earl Grey responded heartily. "Can't be too hard on him. The man needs to listen!"

Before they left for the evening, they introduced her to a favorite tradition of theirs. They told her it began when they first came into the shop over a century ago. Each of them would read or recite a passage from a book of their choice. Some read poems. Ash read from Black Elk Speaks. Hawthorne recited a soliloquy from Shakespeare's Henry V. His intonations made Harper shudder. It was a good night.

Things were going so well that she was puzzled when she checked her mirror before turning out the light. To her bewilderment, the mist was encroaching again. Maybe her nervousness about the shop opening was causing it. "Grandma, I'll have to admit, I'm scared. What if I make a fool of myself over this shop? What if no one wants to shop here?"

She knew, in the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter if everything turned out badly. Other options were available to her. She could always rent the shop to someone else and live upstairs, like Ida Barker above the CPA. She could also leave Whippoorwill Gap and start over somewhere else. But she wanted to stay here. In the short time she'd lived here, she'd come to love the town.

She had to admit, most of the people she'd met hadn't been pushy—they had been welcoming. The town was lovely. Almost everything she wanted or needed was within walking distance of her apartment. And there was F-Troop. She smiled again, thinking back over their support that day. As a matter fact, she thought, if she was to leave, she'd even miss the owl in the park.

"I'll do my best. It will all be alright." Then she closed the mirror and turned out the light.

But in the days to come, Harper frequently found her palms sweating and her heart beating fast. She cast about for ways to increase her inventory. Thinking it was a great deal, she ordered the entire stock of a liquidating used bookstore in Connecticut. But on the truckload's delivery, she found many of the books were moldy, and they all smelled of cigarette smoke. The purchase agreement specified the books would be received "as is" with no returns or refunds.

To her dismay, they were beyond salvage. She didn't want to bring them into the shop because the smell would transfer to the rest of her stock. She looked through one box for the odd book or two she could possibly save with fumigation. But before she could make it to the bottom, she began sneezing and developed a sinus headache.

She checked with the public library, the college library, the Bric ‘a' Brac, and local shelters, but no one wanted any of the books. Worse, no one had suggestions for disposing of them. She asked the Fae if their magic could freshen up a load of books, but they shook their heads sadly. These books were beyond their ability to repair. So with a heavy heart, she spent an afternoon driving loads of them to the municipal dump.

That night, while nursing her sore back with a heating pad, she discussed her fears with Piper. She asked if she should delay the shop's opening until next year, maybe until spring. Piper asked if Harper would run that idea by the others to see what they thought. Harper wearily consented.

When they all joined her in the storage room the following morning, they asked what was bothering her. Harper looked out the door to the cheerful basement with its bright yellow paint. She pointed out that the shelves were too empty. She still had no plan for the smaller special collections room. And on the main floor, only the green folklore room was in good shape. All the furnishings and décor looked nice, but Harper felt the sparse inventory would make a bad impression on anyone who came in.

Earl Grey shook his head. "Don't let that Greene Man get to you, Harper, My Lass. Why when the shop first opened in 1923, it contained fewer books than you have at present." The other faeries nodded vigorous assent.

Then Ash stood and said quietly, "Ever since we've been here, when I read a book in the shop, I put it back when I'm finished. When Frank was alive, he got most of the books he sold from his customers. He paid people for some of them, but most were donated. He kept what he needed and found ways to get rid of the rest."

"Yes, thank you, Ash. Those are all good points. But I don't have any customers yet."

"Once the shop opens, you won't need to worry about that. People will bring you books. But if you need books now, why not ask for donations? Put up signs in the front window asking for unwanted books. Call organizations around town and ask them if they can help. Then, in appreciation for the donations, promise to run a storewide sale sometime before the holidays."

Of course! Harper wondered why she hadn't thought of that sooner. "That's a great idea! It sure won't hurt to ask. Thank you!"

Ash gave her one of his rare smiles. "We can help you go through the books and get them ready." They all chimed in with their agreement.

By that afternoon, Harper had a sign in the window requesting donations. The next day, she placed copies of the sign in the coffee shop, the library, around the college, and at her Tai Chi and yoga studio on the other side of town. She spent the afternoon contacting businesses and churches. Most said they would be happy to help.

Almost immediately, boxes of books were dropped off at the shop. She found them waiting under the porch awning on the front stoop and by the back entrance to the shop. Within a few days, she had more books than she could process. They filled her downstairs storage room, spilling out onto the shop floor.

Ash was as good as his word. Braiding his long silky hair into a ponytail, he took charge of the book processing, saving Harper valuable time. He proved that his well-read reputation was no myth. Since he was the quietest of the Fae, she never suspected the knowledge he'd accrued from reading everything he could get his hands on for over a century.

He quickly made piles: to keep, to discard, and to ask Harper about. The to-keep piles were then divided into the sections in which they were to be shelved. He asked everyone to leave these alone until Harper could approve the choices. Once she did, he assigned each Fae a section to arrange. Within a couple of weeks, the shop was well-stocked and organized. And Harper felt much more confident.

Now she spent her days bustling about, getting the checkout counter ready for the opening. She expected business to boom during the first week, but after that, she had no idea what to expect. If things slowed down, she decided to use the time creating a digital inventory of every book she had. Within a year, she wanted to be selling books online.

Even more exciting, she had decided on a collection for the small room. But she told no one, hoping to keep it a surprise. Locking the room's door, she made the Fae promise not to enter it until she told them it was time, not even to dust. She ordered stock and asked them not to open anything shipped in from out of town. She wanted to process those books herself. It was to be a surprise for them all.

By the next Chamber meeting, Harper was enthusiastic to attend. This time, she showed up in brown work pants, a red sweatshirt, and work boots. While the first Chamber meeting had only thirty or so attendees, Harper estimated two to three hundred people were at this one. Everyone was excited about the Whippoorwill Gap Mountain Folklife Festival. Before moving to town, Harper had never heard of this event, but at the meeting she learned that people made the trip from the entire Appalachian region and beyond. She was astounded to learn that the celebration had an international reputation.

The college folklore department held storytelling events on campus. The major streets uptown and downtown, including the one in front of the Robin's Nest, were closed to traffic. Demonstrations of Appalachian crafts were scattered around, as were craft booths and food trucks. The Birdsong Theater had live entertainment, both inside the building and outside in the parking lot. Puckett's Park hosted Cherokee and settler's reenactments. Shuttle buses ran between parking areas at the college and around town to the festival site, and back. The town's population typically quadrupled on the big day. And it swelled well above normal for days before and after.

Learning all this thrilled Harper. She could not have picked a better date for the shop's grand opening.

During the open comment portion of the meeting, Harper steeled her nerves and stood. "Thank you all for welcoming me to Whippoorwill Gap. I'd like to know if there is anything I can do to help get ready for the festival."

Someone yelled, "Yes, Harper, there is something you can do! Make sure your shop is ready and that you get some rest beforehand. We're all rooting for you!"

Everyone applauded. Someone else yelled, "Is there anything we can do for you, Harper?"

"Well, Bryan Greene at Whippoorwill Gap Books suggested I make posters and bookmarks to help spread the word. I'll leave them on this table. You're all welcome to take as many as you'd like to distribute. I'd be grateful." She spread her items quickly, then looked around the room. Bryan stood by a side wall. He gave her a nod and a thumbs up. By the time Harper left, all her signs and bookmarks were taken.

For the first time, she relished being part of the business community. After the meeting, she dared to believe the shop would be successful.

But when she checked her mirror that night, she found not only mist, but troubling spots of tarnish. Uneasy and confused, she asked, "What's the matter, Grandma? I seem to be doing okay."

As she turned out the light, she promised herself she'd ask her friends tomorrow morning what could be amiss.