{"id":2224,"date":"2021-03-22T11:51:18","date_gmt":"2021-03-22T18:51:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2224"},"modified":"2021-03-22T11:51:18","modified_gmt":"2021-03-22T18:51:18","slug":"missing-pieces","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2021\/03\/22\/missing-pieces\/","title":{"rendered":"Missing Pieces"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write about a character coming out of a long hibernation (either literal or metaphorical).<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The doctor said I have to go out today. I don\u2019t know why she\u2019s doing this to me. She doesn\u2019t listen when I tell her I\u2019m not ready. It would be better if she\u2019d said I have to go \u201coutside\u201d today, because I\u2019ve been doing my exercises. Yesterday I stood outside the door forever\u2026 well, five minutes, but it seemed<\/em> like forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She\u2019d show up, wearing her bright colors and cheery smile. I liked that. There wasn\u2019t much about her I didn\u2019t like, even when she was poking around in my head to find my hurts. It\u2019s just that she\u2019d been going too fast for me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood morning, Effie! You ready to go for brunch?\u201d She was her usual, ebullient self.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMorning, Doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She pursed her lips. \u201cNow, now. I know you only call me \u2018Doctor\u2019 when you\u2019re unhappy with me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry, Julia,\u201d I said, mostly under my breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay, we\u2019ll get through this together.\u201d Julia gave me a big hug. \u201cNow, let\u2019s find your shoes and go out, yeah?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I held her hand, trying hard not to squeeze with every step away from the safety of the front door. While I expected to be loaded into a car and whisked away, Julia led me down the block, our pace slow and steady.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere are we going?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI thought we\u2019d start out small,\u201d she said, \u201cwith brunch at the cafe down the street.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere\u2019s no cafe down here,\u201d I said. \u201cI should know, I\u2019ve lived in the same house for forty-four years.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey opened three years ago,\u201d she said. \u201cWhere the used bookstore used to be.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo!\u201d Tears came unbidden and I froze in place. \u201cSimon loves… loved….\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Julia held me close while sobs wracked my body. Another piece gone. I wept for the loss of another piece of our history. Most of all, I wept in anger at myself for not visiting it while it still existed. I\u2019d never see it again and it was my fault.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know it\u2019s hard, honey, but you\u2019re doing really well.\u201d The doctor\u2019s voice was gentle, but it wasn\u2019t helping.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pulled myself together. \u201cLet\u2019s just get this over with, Doctor, so I can go back home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m back to being \u2018Doctor\u2019 again, eh?\u201d She smiled at me. \u201cMaybe, when I\u2019m Julia again you can tell me about the bookstore?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I grunted noncommittally and walked faster. The sooner we got there, the sooner I could get back home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The front of the store looked the same, except for the painted window. There never had been a sign other than that. The script was the same swirling letters that had marked the bookstore, but now it was called The Reading Room Cafe<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stepping in, I was overwhelmed with the familiar scent of old books. For a moment I thought I smelled Simon\u2019s cologne. Not the way it smells in the jar that still sits on the vanity, but the way it smelled on him. I held back another crying jag and looked around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The front of the store was now open, with a few small tables and a coffee bar. It looked like the stock room had been converted into a kitchen, but the back part of the store still had shelves and shelves of used books.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn\u2019t wait for Julia\u2019s okay, but let go of her hand and walked to the books. As I ran a hand along the spines, the tears came again. Simon and I used to play a game. We\u2019d each walk along, running our hands along the spines without looking. One of us would say stop, and we\u2019d exchange the books we were touching. The rule was that we had to read the book the other had landed on, regardless of how awful it was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJulia,\u201d I called, \u201cI need you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked worried. \u201cWhat is it, Effie?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I explained the game. If I had gone first, I\u2019d want Simon to still have the chance to play the game with someone else. I was sure he\u2019d understand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll let you tell us when to stop,\u201d she said, smiling at me as she ran her fingers along the spines of the books.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStop.\u201d I pulled the book I was touching, The History of Whaling in the New World<\/em>. I offered her the book. It was a hefty book, and judging from the title, was probably dry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Julia traded books with me. I looked at the book, Drums of Never<\/em>. This was one that I\u2019d pulled for Simon ages ago, and we\u2019d traded back in the next week. I knew it was a fantasy, and terribly written, but he said the plot had promise. The memory dropped me to my knees. For the second time in less than an hour I was openly weeping.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe can put it back,\u201d Julia said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, no.\u201d I sniffled and tried to pull myself together. \u201cI made him read it once; now it\u2019s mine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I was back on my feet, Julia paid for the books and we went to one of the small tables. I looked over the brunch menu. \u201cThey have eggs Benedict. I want that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSounds good. I\u2019ll have the same.\u201d Julia sat close enough that I could hold her hand if I needed to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I watched the waitress taking drinks to the only other occupied table. \u201cJulia! Mimosas! Let\u2019s get snockered!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEffigenia Alice McWhorter! I\u2019m shocked.\u201d Julia laughed, her bright smile matching her canary and vermillion dress.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease? At least one?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust one,\u201d she said. \u201cI need to drive later, and I want to get you home in one piece.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As we ate, I looked around, taking in the new shape of the place. There was a wall filled with pictures that looked like they\u2019d been taken in the bookstore. When Julia was looking elsewhere, I snagged the receipt to see how much I\u2019d have to tip her to cover the cost of my book. Even if it was terrible, I wouldn\u2019t trade it back in. This had been Simon\u2019s, even if only for a little while.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The receipt still said Second Page Books<\/em>. The book that sat on my lap had been $3.99. A bargain to regain a little piece of him. I opened the book and scanned through the first couple pages. It was<\/em> poorly written, but it gave me an excuse to grab the receipt to use as a bookmark. There was no way I would tell her that it was just because of the name on the receipt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After our meal, I was feeling a little more comfortable being in the bookstore; cafe<\/em>, I reminded myself. \u201cCan we look at the pictures?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure.\u201d Julia held my hand as we looked over the wall of photos. I spotted them first; three pictures of Simon. The first was both of us smiling at the camera. I remembered the original owner taking a picture of her \u201cfavorite customers.\u201d She had a camera in her hands most days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The other two were candid. One of him laughing at something, and one of us walking on opposite sides of the same row, fingers on the spines, playing the game. Our eyes were on each other, smiles of contentment on our faces.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The tears that came were happy, this time. Memories that I\u2019d thought long forgotten welled up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou two were head over heels,\u201d Julia said. \u201cIt\u2019s obvious in the way you looked at each other.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe were. From the very beginning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWill you be okay by yourself for a minute?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nodded, lost in the memory the photo evoked. It was too far away to make out the titles on the books, but I imagined that it might be the one I held clutched to my chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was startled by a tap on my shoulder. What would have panicked me earlier in the morning just got my attention. I turned to face Julia who held out a small paper bag with the Second Page Books<\/em> logo. \u201cIt\u2019s the originals,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI talked to the new owner. He said those on display are extra prints he made of his grandmother\u2019s photos.\u201d She held the bag out. \u201cThese are the original prints of those three.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I couldn\u2019t speak. Instead, I took the bag and gave her a hug. \u201cThank you,\u201d I managed to squeak out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you ready to go back home?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo.\u201d My answer surprised me. \u201cI found a piece of him; I\u2019d like to see if I can find any more.\u201d When I turned away from the pictures, I felt faint. The weight of the last five years of isolated loneliness, of missing all the pieces of him, had been lifted and my head wanted to fly away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t have to do it all in one day.\u201d Julia put a hand on my shoulder. \u201cHow about we go out again next Sunday? You pick the place.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe seafood place by the wharf?\u201d I asked. \u201cWe used to go there once a month. He\u2019d always reserve table seventeen. You can watch the seals from there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe can do that.\u201d Julia took my hand and led me out. \u201cIt\u2019s kind of a long drive, are you sure you\u2019re up to it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot alone, no.\u201d I hugged the book closer. \u201cBut now I know he\u2019s still here, at least a little.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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