5. Chapter 5

five

Harper clutched the bright red gift bag filled with nail files, stickers, calendars of various sizes, screen wipes, other assorted doodads, numerous business cards, a mug, and a package of local fudge. The Chamber of Commerce Welcome Committee representative, Gracie Mitchell, sat across from her wearing a fluffy orange sweater. Her natural hair, wrapped in a green silk scarf, set off her bright eyes and gold hoop earrings. Harper guessed she was in her early forties.

"It's great to have you here, Harper. I'm a native—I've lived here all my life. I went to Sequoyah College back in the early aughts— ‘Go Cardinals!'—and I run a tutoring service uptown called Rocket to the Top. I think you'll find this a great town for a business. We support each other. You're never alone in Whippoorwill Gap!"

After chatting for a few minutes more, Gracie swept out the door upon securing Harper's promise to come to the Chamber of Commerce meeting at 7:00 next Tuesday night at the Whippoorwill Gap Community Building. Harper had been so overcome by Gracie's forceful personality and distracted by her upcoming afternoon meeting with the contractor, she failed to come up with a good excuse not to go.

Her afternoon meeting went smoothly. She'd already had an architect draft her apartment's design along with the basement blueprints. The contractor immediately understood what was needed and agreed to speed up the process for an extra payment. He promised to have her apartment ready by July. She had decided to hold off on plans for the main floor until she knew what she wanted to do there.

With the contractor secured, Harper felt free to look at the shop's inventory with a critical eye. She had joined the American Booksellers Association back in December. They helped her find a market for the paperbacks. A local vendor was interested in the comics, and she sold them at a satisfactory price. She had introduced herself to all the used book dealers she'd found in the area. But she'd avoided the new bookstore uptown. She had no wish to see Bryan Greene again.

She wanted her shop's aesthetic to be bright and light. In her opinion, Frank had been a little too heavy on the shabby and too light on the chic. The windows must sparkle, and the décor be cheerful and cozy. She kept Olivia updated through their twice-monthly phone calls. To her surprise and delight, Olivia encouraged her to make over the shop to suit herself.

"If you're going to do it at all, Mom, do it right. And send pictures!"

Regret plagued Harper the next Tuesday, the day of the Chamber meeting. All day she ricocheted between nervousness and anger with herself. Suddenly, she yearned for the luxury of a bowl of canned soup and a night on the couch. After berating herself all morning for agreeing to go, she changed direction in the afternoon, berating herself instead for dreading it so much. What did she have to lose besides a few hours?

Gracie's dark eyes had twinkled as she extended the invitation to the meeting. In addition to the goodie bag, she'd given Harper a copy of the slick, twenty-four-page magazine outlining all the businesses in town that Harper had looked through during her November visit with Gina. Local restaurants and hotels stocked these for tourists. A quarter-page spread was free to Chamber members, who got discounts on larger spreads as well. Gracie told Harper that a full-page spread was provided to all new business owners for free for the first year.

It all sounded good, and Harper knew she was the problem. For her entire life, she had never joined anything if she could avoid it. Past experiences had proved that, without fail, she always resented any organization's demands on her time. The very idea of this meeting rankled her. It was likely she'd betray herself further by agreeing to join the organization simply to get home more quickly.

Through force of habit, she pushed through her misgivings. She prided herself on keeping her word: a promise made was a promise kept. Always. So, on that cold February evening, she kicked herself out the door and into the night.

Carefully dodging patches of ice here and there along the road, she showed up precisely five minutes before start time. She hoped to bypass awkward small talk by not allowing time for it. She'd dressed carefully, in a nice pair of black pants and a red sweater—a power color, her mother had told her. With any luck, the sweater would convey confidence and convince the others that she was not a person to be messed with.

When she walked into the community building's meeting room, around thirty people were already standing around or sitting at tables, cups in hand. Harper glanced around nervously for a couple of seconds before Gracie walked over. "Harper! I'm so glad you could make it! Let me introduce you to a few people before we get started."

They made their way over to a man who Gracie introduced as the president of one bank, and a woman who owned one of the town's gas and oil businesses. Harper shook hands with both. They asked her where she was from and how long she had been in town while Gracie fetched her a cup of tea.

As soon as the cup was in her hand, a tall man in blue jeans and a flannel shirt took the stage, and everyone found a seat. At that point, Harper realized she was probably overdressed. Some people wore workout clothes, but most were clad in jeans or hiking pants with sweatshirts. Her parents had stressed to her, once she was old enough for preschool, that clothes made the man, woman, or child. But she'd never felt comfortable in her clothes, and looking around, it occurred to her that maybe, like these people, she wasn't the "dress up" sort. Right then, she decided she'd stop wearing clothes she didn't like. Whippoorwill Gap didn't seem like the sort of place where she would need them. This weekend, she would gather up most of her hated wardrobe items, starting with these snug black slacks, and donate them to a thrift shop.

She recognized Willie Spears, the Chamber president. He owned the winery Harper had gone to with Gina and Olivia. Willie welcomed them all to the bi-monthly meeting and called on Monica Tolbert to read the minutes from their last gathering. Harper looked down at the agenda and realized with horror that "Welcome Guests" was near the top. She'd deliberately sat in the back and had to force herself to stay in her seat instead of slipping out the door.

He called Gracie up to the stage and handed her the mic.

"Whippoorwill Gap has had a quiet couple of months as far as new businesses are concerned, but that's not unusual for winter. We have two new businesses. The first, which opened earlier this month, is Tim's Tacks, a clothier who also does alterations. Most of you know Tim Elliott. He's lived in town all his life. He couldn't be here tonight because his mother is ill. We wish the family well. I'll send out an email with their addresses if any of you would like to send Tim or his mother Karen a card.

"But I'm happy to say the other business owner is with us tonight. Harper Wood has bought the Robin's Nest, the old bookshop near the park on Oak Street. It's the one that dear old Frank Bailies ran for years. Harper is a North Carolina native who moved here from Raleigh last month. Let's all give Harper a warm Whippoorwill Gap welcome!"

Harper's swelling anxiety turned to shock when they all stood up and looked at her, saying, "Hi, Harper!" at the same time. Then they all sat down. Harper thought of those addictions anonymous meetings and hoped this wasn't a sign of something ominous.

But before she had time to react, Gracie looked her way and said, "Harper, would you like to come up and tell us about yourself and your business plans?"

No! Harper thought, her heart and temples pounding. But she forced herself to join Gracie at the front of the room despite her blood feeling as though it had turned to half-frozen sludge.

She took the mic. "Hi, everyone. Like Gracie said, I'm Harper Wood. I bought the Robin's Nest in December and plan to turn it into a more traditional used book shop, selling mostly hardback books. I want to offer quality vintage books at an affordable price. I'm happy to be in Whippoorwill Gap and I thank you for your warm welcome."

As she sat down, her face hot and her hands shaking, she noticed Bryan Greene looking at her from one of the back corner tables, his dark curly hair set off against a Carolina Blue sweatshirt. When she looked back around, everyone's attention was on the stage, where the discussion had moved to "Old Business."

For the rest of the meeting, while the members argued over town ordinances that she knew nothing about, Harper concentrated on regaining her composure. After the meeting, several people came over offering handshakes or cheery "Welcomes." Several invited her to join the Chamber. One woman in a pink hoodie, whom Harper guessed was near her own age, patted her shoulder. "Lots to be done and we're always happy to have more help." Harper nodded without comment.

And then she found herself looking into Bryan Greene's bright blue eyes. "I don't know if you remember me. I'm Bryan Greene. I own Whippoorwill Gap Books. If I'm remembering correctly, you were in my shop a while back. I remember you because you asked me about the Robin's Nest. You may not be aware of the business agreement that Frank and I had. He purchased some of my leftover books to sell at his shop occasionally."

"Yes. Nice to see you again, Bryan. As of now, I haven't decided exactly how I want to run the shop, so I don't want to agree to any arrangements with anyone yet."

He tilted his head toward the ceiling, his face impassive. Looking at him closely, she guessed he was middle-aged, perhaps in his mid-forties.

"Are you planning to sell any new merchandise?"

"I'm not planning to right now, but that may change with time. Why do you ask?" She kept her eyes trained on his face.

"It worked out well for both of us, Frank and I, for me to sell strictly new books and him to sell used. No cross competition." He glanced up at Gracie, who had walked over with a clipboard and a pen in her hand.

"I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other. Let me know if I can help you with anything." He nodded at Gracie and left.

"Well Harper, what did you think of our little group? A lot of us weren't here tonight and a lot of us never come. Do you think you would be interested in joining?"

Harper took a deep breath. "I most likely will, Gracie, but I'd like to get the business open first. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed tonight."

Gracie gave her a warm smile. "Of course. Take your time. But just so you know, we don't expect members to volunteer at all. There's no pressure, and you only volunteer for things that interest you." She lowered her voice. "Don't let Bryan bother you. I know he's a bit intense. You run your shop however you see fit."

Harper nodded gratefully, then made her way to the door. She was surprised to see a little group of robins out by her truck in the frigid February evening.

Back in her cottage on Poplar Street, she put on a new pair of Stuart plaid flannel pajamas, a Valentine's Day present she'd bought for herself, and curled up on the couch with a cup of passionflower tea and an orange to peel. The meeting wasn't bad, but it had been nerve-wracking for her all the same. Just like last fall, Bryan Greene made her uneasy. His manner reminded her of the same pressures she had hoped to leave behind in Raleigh. Why couldn't people let her run her life and business the way she wanted to? All these folks had made it without her in the past. Surely they could make it without her now.

She sighed and pulled out her mirror. Looking into it, she was astonished: the tarnish was gone, and even the mist was clearing. For the first time in decades, she could see her outline in the glass. She examined it closely, then laid it aside. Heading to the bathroom, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was starting to develop dark streaks. How was that even possible? It should be getting grayer, not darker.

Back in bed, she opened her copy of The Secret Garden that Grandma Sophie had read to her when she was in third grade. Before slipping into its soothing, familiar story, she promised herself that Bryan Greene was not going to tell her what to do—not about the bookshop or anything else.