“I’ll go one better,” he said, pulling the door open, “Cerys and I’ll have you round for tea, so you don’t have to cook it yourself.”

“I won’t say no to that.”

After the door closed, Penny wandered back to me and explained, “Jed’s the butcher. Sad tale.” Her eyes darkened. “He and Cerys, his wife, lost their daughter in a car crash two years go. Cerys was in the car. She’s in a wheelchair now. Their daughter left behind her daughter Arabella. Everyone calls her Lella, a nickname from a young neighbor’s son that just kind of stuck.” She leaned against the counter. “Poor couple lost their bairn, Cerys her mobility, and gained full guardianship of their granddaughter all at the same time. Lella just turned thirteen. Raising a teenage girl again. It’s not easy.”

My heart hurt for the butcher and his wife. “That’s awful, Penny.”

She patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s a good community here. When my Arthur died, they rallied around me, like we rallied around Jed, Cerys, and Lella.”

Realizing her words meant she was widowed, I offered, “I’m so sorry.”

“It was four years ago now. Sometimes . . .” Her gaze drifted off into the distance, to someplace no one else could get to. “Sometimes it feels like yesterday. Other times like . . . like it was another lifetime.”

A silence I didn’t know how to break without being disrespectful fell between us. Finally, I said, “You and Jed seem close.”

“Cerys and I have been friends since Arthur and I moved here. The four of us were good friends for years.” Seeing my somber expression, Penny suddenly clapped her hands together. “Let’s get on then. You’ve got a bookstore to run.”

Five

For a moment it was like I was six years old again with all of my toys set up in a row in my bedroom as I pretended to own a toy shop, forcing my parents to play my customers.

Except this was real.

The cash register was an app on the laptop hidden behind the counter. I just had to use a barcode scanner connected to the computer when ringing up books and other items. There was a stockroom behind a door at the back of the store, next to the private downstairs restroom. The stockroom was filled not only with books, but with all kinds of ornaments and objects for renters to use for the window display.

I had free rein to create whatever display I wanted.

When Penny left after showing me the ropes, leaving me her number in case I needed help, I’d felt a little apprehensive. How brave Penny was to leave her store to the charge of inexperienced bookish tourists?

As for other tourists, several passed by the store throughout the day, peering in, trying to catch my eye as if that would somehow force me to open the door.