Buried in Books Read online

Page 7


  The dark blue cloth cover featured a gilded witch flying under the full moon. It reminded me of late nights together in our dorm room, reading and laughing and studying and, yes, occasionally drinking cheap wine.

  The Blue Fairy Book had been the first of twelve popular collections of fairy tales compiled by Andrew Lang. Each of the subsequent book covers sported a different color and that was how Andrew Lang named them. The Red Fairy Book, The Green Fairy Book, and so on. I think we three girls made it through the fifth volume before we finally called it quits. Or graduated. I couldn’t remember what came first.

  “You’re going to make me cry.” I opened the book to the title page and stared in shock at the publication date: 1889. “Are you kidding? It’s a first edition. How did you ever find it?”

  “I’m a librarian,” she said with a light shrug. “I can find anything.”

  I grinned and pulled her in tightly for a hug. “I love it.”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d remember.”

  “Of course I remember.” I laughed as I sniffled away tears. “The three of us used to take turns reading this to each other after we’d finished studying. And usually after we’d shared a bottle of wine or two.”

  Heather laughed. “Leave it to you to recall the drunken parts.”

  “Those are some of my favorite memories.”

  “We went through so many of those silly fairy-tale books.” She shook her head. “God, we were such nerds.”

  “I know. I loved every minute of it.” I gazed down at the faded blue book cover, then opened it to a random page with a black-and-white illustration of a lovely woman surrounded by several large parrots. “I actually remember this picture. This is amazing.”

  “I’m sorry the book is a bit grubby,” she said, frowning. “The cover is bubbled in spots and there’s foxing all the way through. But hey, it’s a first edition so that should give it a bit of pizzazz.”

  “You’re too funny.” I hugged her again. “This was really sweet and thoughtful of you. I absolutely love it.”

  “I’m glad.” She grabbed two crackers and slid them into her pocket, then gazed around the room. “I’m going to sneak out while everyone’s busy eating. Please thank your mother for me. I’m so happy I was able to be here.”

  “I am, too. Let’s try to get together for coffee again before the conference is over.”

  “Yes, let’s do it. I’ll text you.”

  I held up the book. “Thank you again for this, Heather. I’m really touched.”

  She blew me a kiss and it hit me like a strong gust of warm wind. Blowing kisses had been something we used to do with each other whenever one of us would leave the dorm room.

  I blew her back a kiss and we both grinned. Then she left and I had the strangest hollowed-out feeling, like I was empty inside.

  “You look like you could use this,” Meg said, handing me another glass of champagne.

  I smiled. “How did you know?”

  “It’s one of my superpowers,” she said lightly. “Now what’s this lovely book?”

  “A gift from Heather.”

  She took the book from me and turned it over. “Fairy tales. Isn’t that wonderful? She’s a good friend?”

  “Yes,” I murmured. “One I haven’t seen in years.”

  Meg patted my arm. “I’m glad she could be here for you.”

  “Me, too.”

  She kept her hand on my arm. “Would you like me to fix you a plate, dear?”

  I realized I was still staring at the open doorway and shook myself out of my pensive mood. “Oh, no. I can do it. But thank you, Meg. I think you woke me up.”

  “Sometimes it’s difficult to see people from our past.”

  I blew out a breath. “You can say that again.”

  “Have something to eat. You’ll feel better.”

  “I already do.” I gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll go eat something and mingle with my guests.”

  “A perfect plan,” she said. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  Almost two hours later, the party was still in full swing. I had laughed and chatted with all my friends and relatives, all the gifts had been opened, the fabulous cupcakes were long gone, and plenty of champagne had been consumed.

  And that was when Sara finally approached me.

  “I should be leaving,” she said, “but I wanted to let you know how much fun I had. Your sisters are great.”

  “I’m so glad you were able to come.”

  “Me, too. Even though we started out a little shaky.”

  I grinned. “Hopefully we can get back on track. Do you have time to meet for coffee sometime during the conference?”

  “I’d like that, if my boss will let me.” She grimaced. “Cornelia’s been gunning for me lately.”

  Seemed like Sara made friends wherever she went. “Do you know why?”

  “Basically she’s jealous. I’m younger and prettier, and she resents that. You know the type.” Sara grinned. “But what’s she going to do, fire me? She needs me and she knows it. So let’s make coffee a definite yes. If she doesn’t like it, too bad.”

  We exchanged phone numbers and then she reached into her tote bag and pulled out an object wrapped in a brown paper bag. “I wanted to give you something.”

  I realized that I hadn’t opened a gift from her earlier. Not that it mattered.

  “You know that’s not necessary,” I said quickly. “I’m just happy you could be here.”

  “I am, too, but I still want you to have this.” She stared at the worn bag covering the item in her hand and took a deep breath. “It’s not exactly wrapped, but here.” She thrust the package at me. “I hope you like it.”

  “I know I’m going to love it, whatever it is.” I opened the brown paper bag and reached inside.

  Her lips twisted into a mischievous smile. “I noticed that Heather gave you a book so I couldn’t be one-upped.”

  I chuckled. “You’re too much.” I pulled out the book and stared at the cover in shock. “Oh my God. Sara, this is . . . it’s amazing.”

  “You like it?”

  “Are you kidding? I love it.” I glanced at the spine. “I mean, I really love it.”

  “I kind of thought it would be perfect for you. Because . . . you know.”

  “I—I’m stunned.” I turned the book over in my hands and stared at the beautifully gilded fore edge. It was a near-pristine, finely bound copy of The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas. The book artist had taken the original colorful cover art depicting the three dashing soldiers, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, along with their friend d’Artagnan, and incorporated it into the exquisite leather cover, framing and beveling the edges for a beautiful finished effect.

  I opened it to the title page and saw that it was published in 1846 in London. “This is a first edition? I—I can’t accept this, Sara. It’s too rare. It must’ve cost a fortune.”

  “It’s yours,” she countered. “Look, Rod buys and sells books all the time. He found this one, and when I saw it, I knew it would be perfect for you.”

  “Are you absolutely sure?”

  She laughed. “Yes, I’m sure. Besides, Rod can always find another one if he needs to.”

  I stared at the heavily gilded spine, then looked at her. “I’m just blown away. I’ll treasure this, Sara.”

  Pressing her lips together nervously, she said, “You’ve got a wonderful heart, Brooklyn. You’ve brought us all back together and that’s deserving of a gift as beautiful as you are. I hope you enjoy it and I wish you many years of happiness in your marriage.”

  My eyes began to water and once again I had to fight to keep my composure. “You’re making me cry.”

  “Excellent,” she said, grinning.

  “No, really, I’m overwhelmed. I can’t thank you enough.�


  She gave me a hug. “Enjoy it in good health, please.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  “I’d better get going.”

  “Okay. I’ll text you tomorrow and we’ll set up a time to have coffee.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. Especially the part where I tell Cornelia to kiss my behind.” When she got to the doorway, she stopped abruptly, turned, and blew me a kiss.

  Delighted, I laughed and blew one back to her.

  * * *

  • • •

  I arrived home in time to catch Derek watching the late news. He turned off the television and patted the sofa cushion next to him. “Come and tell me how you enjoyed your party.”

  I sat down and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. As if on cue, Charlie hopped up and squeezed herself into the minuscule space between Derek and me. I stroked her soft, furry back as I played back the events of the evening. “It was a little rough at the beginning,” I admitted. “I didn’t quite catch the concept of a surprise party so I spent a few minutes staring dumbly at all the faces. But I ended up having a really great time.”

  Chuckling, he said, “Your mother led me to believe that you’d walk into the house with a truckload of gifts.”

  “Oh, you won’t believe all the beautiful gifts I received. It was almost embarrassing.” I rested my head on his shoulder and sighed. “Anyway, Mom thought it would be easier on me if she took them home with her. She’ll bring them over when she comes back to town for the wedding.”

  “That was thoughtful of her.”

  “She thought of everything. Or Robin did. Or Alex.” I shook my head. “It was probably a group effort.”

  “You’ve some good friends, darling.”

  “I know.” I smiled as I recalled how smoothly the evening ran. “Thank goodness, because I never would’ve been able to pull it off.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, love. I’ve seen you organize some rather impressive events over the years.”

  I stretched up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. But I can’t tell you how grateful I am that someone else was in charge. I got to enjoy myself and visit with friends I hadn’t seen in a while.”

  “I’m glad.” He shifted on the couch to make eye contact. “Are you ready for bed?”

  “Almost. I’d like to look up something online first. It’ll only take a minute or two.”

  He stood and pulled me up off the couch. “What is it?”

  “A book.”

  He smiled. “Of course. Care for some company?”

  “I would love it.” As we walked into my workshop, I told Derek how my mother had invited the two women who used to be my roommates.

  “Your Musketeers,” he said.

  “Right.”

  “You told me about the one woman, Heather. The other one showed up as well?”

  “Yes. Sara. My mother didn’t know we’d had a falling-out back in school. She just thought it would be a nice surprise for me.”

  “Very sweet of her. But it must’ve been quite a shock.”

  “I was a little freaked out, to say the least. I thought I’d have to play referee all night to keep them from killing each other. But they wound up talking it out and managed to remain civil.” I held up my hand. “Let me rephrase that. They didn’t even speak to each other again. But that’s better than yelling and screaming, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  As I powered up my computer, I explained about the two books the girls had given me and the sentimental meanings attached to both of them.

  “The thing is,” I said, “I don’t think Sara intended to give me The Three Musketeers. But then she saw Heather give me a book and she had to go one better. She even admitted it.”

  “So she just happened to have this expensive book with her,” Derek said, his tone speculative. “And she decided to give it to you on the spur of the moment?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what happened.” I typed in my favorite book auction website and waited until it appeared. Then I entered The Blue Fairy Book into the search box and stared at the prices of similar books to the one Heather gave me. Most of them ranged from two hundred to four hundred dollars. “It was too much for her to spend,” I muttered.

  “Perhaps she was able to find a better price than any of these,” Derek said. “She is a librarian, after all. She may have an inside source.”

  “I hope so.” I turned back to the screen and typed The Three Musketeers, then waited for the results. I gazed up at Derek. “The book was wrapped in a brown paper bag, Derek. I doubt she brought it as a present for me. I think she was holding on to it for her husband.”

  “And she gave it away.” His eyes narrowed in thought. “I can’t imagine he’ll be pleased about that.”

  “She insisted he wouldn’t mind. Said he found it and he could find another one.”

  He frowned at me. “What do you mean, he found it?”

  “Oh. Forgot to mention that Sara’s husband is a broker. He buys and sells high-end books and ephemera.”

  “Ah.” He glanced at the computer screen. “Do you think it’ll be easy for him to find another one like it?”

  “I doubt it.” I angled the computer screen so he could get a better look. “Check this out. Eight years ago a book matching the same description sold for almost ten thousand dollars.” I tapped the screen for emphasis. “Two months ago a very similar book came back on the market. Sotheby’s has it listed for seventy-four thousand.”

  He let out a soft whistle. “If the book she gave you is worth seventy-four thousand dollars, I’m guessing your friend Sara is facing a very unhappy husband tonight.”

  “Unhappy?” I gave a short laugh. “More like homicidal.”

  Chapter Six

  I spent the night tossing and turning, thanks to Heather and Sara. And okay, maybe the champagne had a little something to do with it, too. My dreams kept recycling over and over, and I found myself back in our old dorm room, tearing apart the books they had given me, then putting them back together, then pulling them apart again. What was that all about?

  “You didn’t sleep well,” Derek said as I stumbled into the kitchen.

  I groaned. “Oh, great. I must look ravishing.”

  He chuckled. “You look beautiful as always, my love.” His fingers grazed my cheek and he pressed a light kiss on my forehead. I leaned against him for a brief moment, then stepped back while he poured me a cup of coffee.

  “Bless you,” I whispered, pitifully grateful that he had risen an hour ahead of me to make some phone calls and prepare our breakfast.

  I took a sip of the strong brew, then sat down on the barstool. Charlie scurried over to greet me and I picked her up to snuggle for a moment. When I put her down, she circled and brushed up against my ankles a few times, then settled at my feet. “I kept dreaming of those books the girls gave me.”

  “Is that what had you restless all night?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you’re happy with the books, aren’t you?”

  “Happy? Oh, I am. The books are wonderful. But it was such a weird situation with both of the girls suddenly showing up at my bridal shower after twelve years of silence. I think that’s what triggered the dreams, not the books themselves.”

  “I understand.” He pulled two pieces of toast from the toaster and buttered them, then scooped scrambled eggs onto both of our plates. “But you did have fun at the party, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, definitely.” I smiled, remembering. All in all, it had been a fabulous night. “Mom was amazing. I’ll admit I wasn’t thrilled to be surprised like that, but it turned out to be a complete kick.”

  “I’m glad, darling. Now tell me more about the books. You must have some theories after going online and then dreaming about them all night.”

  I chuckled. “Yes. As you know
, Heather gave me an old book of fairy tales. That particular book used to have a lot of meaning for the three of us and I really do love it. I was frankly shocked that she remembered. But it was a sweet, thoughtful gift.”

  “And the other one?” he asked.

  I shook my head, still confused. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful book and I’m thrilled to have it. But . . . well, you saw what it was worth. It doesn’t make sense.” I took another sip of coffee as Derek added a piece of turkey bacon to each of our plates. My mouth was starting to water watching him. And he had that effect on me even when he wasn’t giving me food.

  He picked up the plates and brought them over to the kitchen island, where I was sitting. He sat down across from me and we began to eat.

  “I guess I’m a little skeptical that Sara actually meant to give it to me. I think she was carried away in the moment and also wanted to make a bigger splash than Heather. So as much as I love the book, I’m wondering if I should give it back.”

  “Did your online source indicate that the similar book was still on the market?”

  “I took another quick look this morning. They show that it was just sold.”

  “Just sold? That was fast.” He sipped his coffee.

  “Here’s the thing, Derek. I think it’s the same book.”

  He glanced up at me, surprised. “What makes you think so?”

  “They described it exactly.” Another reason to give it back, I thought. “I guess it’s possible there’s another copy out there, but I doubt it.”

  He gazed at me for a long moment. “So a friend you haven’t seen in twelve years shows up and gives you a seventy-four-thousand-dollar book. And that same book was just sold to someone else.”

  I sighed, took another gulp of blessed coffee, and gave myself a moment to settle before saying, “It doesn’t make sense, does it?”

  Derek was contemplative as he took another bite of toast.

  I snapped off a piece of bacon, popped it into my mouth, and savored the rich flavor. “What are you thinking?”