Authentically izzy, p.8
Authentically, Izzy, page 8
And no, his accent was more standard American.
And he wore an open-collared button-up with a suit jacket, which, I won’t lie, was rather swoon-worthy.
But . . . but what am I saying?? I’ve gone two years without meeting a bookish man and within the span of a month, I’ve met two? I don’t think I’m made for this kind of drama IRL. Bookish men are like eating Josie’s peanut butter swirl cheesecake. One piece at a time or you can’t move for two days.
Izzy
PS: No one has answered my cheating-on-Brodie question yet.
PPS: Was the quote about lifelong and debilitating insecurities referring to me?
PPPS: Brodie hasn’t emailed me back. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned video calls.
Text from Luke to Penelope and Izzy: I’m not an expert on romantic relationships, but from a guy’s perspective I don’t think cheating starts until two people have decided to be exclusive . . . AND MET IN PERSON. I’m guessing from your hysterical and emotional reaction there has been no such decision. By the way, no one has ever called me swoon-worthy when I wear button-downs.
Penelope: Camo button-downs don’t count.
Izzy: Thank you for answering, Luke. The ALL CAPS wasn’t necessary. Flannel can be very nice on you, especially when there are no bloodstains.
Penelope: Oh yes! Flannel is much better than camo, Luke. Very Hallmark.
Luke: I regret my decision to join this conversation.
From: Josephine Martin
To: Izzy Edgewood
Date: March 17
Subject: Clark Gable at the library??
Mother just told me you met someone. At the library. It’s wonderfully providential and I didn’t even have to resort to matchmaking.
Josephine
PS: Mother says he looks like Clark Gable. Think of children with those eyes!!
* * *
Heart-to-Heart
Date: March 17
Isabelle,
Forgive my delay in writing. I’ve been traveling for work in the more mountainous regions of the islands and reception is spotty at best. Though the delay gave me time to contemplate your most touching recent message. I just arrived home at one o’clock in the morning, and with the six-hour time difference, it is my hope you will still receive this note within your waking hours.
This may sound mawkish, but I cannot help myself. Your description of a bookmark in your heart over your parents’ deaths nigh brought me to tears. I’ve never heard such a sentiment expressed so beautifully and simply. Yes, that is how I shall think of my father from this point on.
You are remarkable.
My grandfather would like you, even if he didn’t show it at first, but you can always tell if he’s pleased because he begins to rub his mustache repeatedly. Grandchildren need such clues sometimes when their grandfather has a tendency to growl more than smile.
I have found fiction to meet me at the most poignant of times in my life. I learned the power of imagination through Narnia and the intimacy of true friendship in The Lord of the Rings. I found courage from Atticus Finch and an unexpected camaraderie with Emma’s Knightley. Let the critics say what they will. We know the truth, don’t we? Fiction, at its best, speaks to the heart.
These islands are beautiful. Photos fail to do them justice. Though I’ve traveled to many places, there truly is no place like home, even with the unusually named villages and, at times, the chilly winters. Look up the cliffs of Brete Tarn. They are near my home and have some excellent legends wrapped around them, including a mysterious manor house or two. And of course, there are stories of pirates’ treasures, long-lost lovers, and ghosts. But there are always ghost stories in ancient places. We’ve learned to live with the boca without instigating their ire.
And as far as your reading groups go, what a wonderful way to inspire children to love books! If I come to your library, would I have the opportunity to sit with the children and hear you read a story or two? I promise not to pinch one of your props, though I think I could sport a Gandalf hat rather well. Who wouldn’t want to wear a pointy gray hat?
My family owns a growing set of bookshops known as Sutherland’s Books. Grandfather built his first shop in 1964 in Skern with barely a coin to his name. He loves telling the story of placing his first book on the shelf and wondering how he’d afford to fill all the secondhand shelves in the space. People in the community began to donate duplicate books in their possession, and as Grandfather sold some, he bought more from outside the community, but the village of Skern has always held our family’s hearts in a special way. It is our goal to cultivate the same sense of community in all of our bookshops, but each one provides a new challenge. Growing pains, I suppose. And over the past few years, I’m afraid Sutherland’s has not handled those growing pains so well.
I understand, speak, and even think in fluent sarcasm. P. G. Wodehouse is one of my favorite authors. Have you read him? Bryson’s book sounds like an excellent suggestion, as I’ve read most of Wilde’s tales.
I’ve never heard of Andy Griffith, but I shall know more about him by the next email. It seems there are a plethora of his television shows to view. Will those give me some sense of your world in Mt. Airy? Your photos are lovely. There are so many trees!
I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Affectionately,
Brodie
PS: I’m glad you speak bookish as well.
PPS: I would love to engage in a video call.
Text from Izzy to Luke: I’ve never been called remarkable before and I’m not quite sure what to do with it.
Izzy: Is it weird that he’s read Jane Austen? You’re the only man I’ve known who has read Austen and can actually talk about those books with some level of understanding and . . . without sporting a sneer.
Luke: Is it weird that you’re an Avengers fan? Or that you adore Patrick O’Brian? You really need to have a better view of yourself.
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Josephine Martin
Date: March 18
Subject: Re: Clark Gable at the library??
Josephine,
I feel certain you got your matchmaking habit from your mother.
Yes, Eli Montgomery does resemble Clark Gable to a degree. His eyes are more brown than Gable’s gray-green smolder, and he has a nice smile, but otherwise I know nothing about him. He hasn’t called. I’m not expecting him to and I’m perfectly fine if he doesn’t.
Let’s focus on Penelope coming home tomorrow, what do you say? Perhaps we can have one of our infamous sleepovers. By summer you may not feel much like staying up all hours watching classic musicals.
Besides, there is this really nice guy I’m talking to on Heart-to-Heart. I’m not sure where it will go, but I’m content with this, my job, beginning business classes, Samwise, and the upcoming celebration of becoming an aunt (well, second cousin, but since you are more like my sister than cousin, I’m going to keep referring to myself as an aunt).
See you tomorrow!
Izzy
PS: Don’t you just love the word remarkable?
From: Josephine Martin
To: Izzy Edgewood
Date: March 18
Subject: Re: Clark Gable at the library??
What guy? If he doesn’t live nearby, then I really think there is a perfect local option who showed up quite providentially at the library! A Mr. Gable to sweep you off your feet! Did you get his number? Maybe you could call him first?
Josephine
PS: I would find it “remarkable” if you had a date to bring to the Spring Street Fair. Maybe one that looks like Clark Gable!
Text from Eli to Izzy: Izzy. This is Eli Montgomery. Would you have time to meet for coffee tomorrow? Where’s a good spot?
Text from Izzy to Penelope and Luke: So . . . Eli texted me to ask me to meet him for coffee. Thus it begins . . . again. BTW, when did guys stop calling first?
Text from Izzy to Eli: Hi, Eli, good to hear from you. Would you like to meet at Pages Bookstore? They have great coffee and pastries. Plus, they have books!
Eli: Bookstores are some of my favorite places. Tomorrow? 10:00?
Izzy: See you then.
* * *
Heart-to-Heart
Date: March 18
Brodie,
How was your business trip? Where are some places you’ve traveled that you enjoyed most?
The cliffs are stunning! I’d love to hear their stories and search for treasure. And if the ghosts behave themselves, I wouldn’t mind exploring their haunts either.
I’ve never traveled internationally (except through books), but there’s a piece of me that wants to. I’m not sure why the prospect makes me nervous. Perhaps it’s a mix between being afraid some of the places I’ve read about will prove less magical in reality, the idea of navigating all the newness of traveling in such a big way, and my debilitating fear of flying.
Your photos and descriptions have resurrected the internal battle though, in a good way. Someday. It’s that constant dream that seems just out of reach . . . at least for my courage. That sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?
And though I’ve never used the word mawkish before, I was happy to know you understood. You may use or be mawkish whenever you like. I appreciate that you appreciated my sentiments. I’m sorry about your father. Time turns pain into memory, but I feel as if there is always this missing spot in my life.
I’ve never read P. G. Wodehouse. His books look ridiculously wonderful.
I’m not sure how exciting my book reading would be at the library, but story time is open to the public, so of course you’d be welcome. And I happen to own a Gandalf hat as well as a deerstalker hat (though Sir Arthur Conan Doyle never references one for his famous fictional detective). I still wear it when I read The Hound of the Baskervilles to the middle school story-time group every October. If you need a pipe, I have one of those too. Gandalf style.
What a wonderful job you have! To own not only one but several bookshops! What are they like? I searched online, but there are only descriptions and no real presence. Do you want to grow them? I picture quaint spaces with reading nooks and towering shelves. If your marketing person can post some photos of people enjoying Sutherland’s, it may increase interest (or at least do it for curious southern Americans who ache to peek into bookshops virtually).
I cannot wait to get your reaction to Andy Griffith. So many of the people in my town share his accent, including me. So at least you’ll have fair warning when we have our video chat.
Izzy
PS: I’m sending a separate email with days and times to see if any of those will work for you to have a video call.
PPS: Do you enjoy in-person conversations typically? Or are you more comfortable behind the screen?
* * *
Heart-to-Heart
Date: March 19
Isabelle,
I feel certain I will enjoy a face-to-face conversation with you.
I look forward to tomorrow.
Affectionately,
Brodie
Chapter 7
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Luke Edgewood, Penelope Edgewood
Date: March 19
Subject: As Izzy’s World Turns
Penelope and Luke,
My morning started with an email from Brodie and now I’m off to a coffee meeting with Eli and then my first video call with Brodie tomorrow morning. I feel like a rom-com movie with a foreboding disaster nipping at my heels.
I can’t wait to see you both tomorrow night for pizza! Hopefully my impending romantic doom will not happen by then. Usually the doom waits until the heroine is sufficiently entrenched in relationships . . . or at least that’s been the case with my dooms. There is some safety in distance.
Izzy
PS: For some reason I feel like I ought to watch the last twenty minutes of Austenland on replay.
PPS: There’s something very pleasant about the word affectionately isn’t there?
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Luke Edgewood, Penelope Edgewood
Date: March 19
Subject: Move over, Sandra Bullock
You know those movie scenes where a woman walks through the door of a place, her hair flying around her in dramatic perfection, and all eyes turn to notice her brilliance as the camera pans from her stylish heels upward? Well, that’s never been me, made all the more certain by the way I entered Pages to meet Eli this morning. I came through the same door I’ve entered since the store opened four years ago. There sat Clark Gable at a table by the window looking like he just stepped out of a fashion magazine. (Penelope, I wore the red sweater you bought me for Christmas last year since you said red looks nice on me, but I fear it didn’t help overshadow the next part of this story.) I smiled, pushed my hair back behind my ears, took a step, and then . . . couldn’t go any farther. My purse strap was hung. Well, I gave it a little jerk and . . . the head of Pages’ seasonal leprechaun on display went flying through the shop. Almost in slow motion, it hit a book display table in the middle of the room, knocking over the book featured on the top of a precarious stack. Just as my shoulders started to relax, the rest of the books spilled over onto the floor like a literary domino game.
I rushed to the display, apologizing profusely to the owner, who (quite wisely) removed my swinging purse from my shoulder and helped me retrieve all the books and the decapitated leprechaun head without saying one frustrated word. She really is a saint.
Poor Eli stared at me from the table as if he’d looked into the eyes of Medusa. Of course, after watching my blunder unfold before him, turning to stone might have been preferable. At any rate, after the color in his cheeks returned (and the heat in mine lowered to human levels again), we had a nice time. He teaches English literature at the community college with a preference for ancient literature. In fact, his third novel set in ancient history came out two months ago, and he promptly took me to the shelf where his books were.
When Pages’ owner learned he was a local author, she quickly offered to have a book signing for him, since the locals are extremely supportive of their hometown celebrities. He politely refused, but looked ever so pleased when the owner moved a few of his books from the shelf to the local-author table display. I’ve never enjoyed novels set in ancient times, but, as any good reader should be, I’m open to new adventures. So I purchased one of his books and look forward to delving into it later this evening.
He was a perfect gentleman. Even wore a scarf with his classy suit jacket. You know, like something from Dead Poets Society. And he complimented my hair.
I’ll share more with you at dinner. He’s a rather new transplant to the area. He lives closer to White Plains, which gives him ready access to Winston-Salem for a bit of the city life he left in Columbus, Georgia. Josephine would love his accent. A southern Clark Gable! I’m not sure why he relocated to the little town of Mt. Airy. He said he needed a change of pace. Well, I’m certain Mt. Airy provides that! I get my fill of city life when Penelope drags me to Winston-Salem or Charlotte a few times a year to shop.
Despite the debacle with the decapitated leprechaun, Eli invited me for dinner Friday night. I figured after embarrassing him to such tremendous heights, I ought to say yes.
Izzy
PS: I’ll meet you at Larenzo’s tomorrow at six. I’m changing purses so I won’t decapitate anything else. I’m sure Larenzo will be appreciative.
PPS: Thank you both for always listening to me.
Text from Luke to Izzy: Thanks for sending the brownies by Lance. Do you keep breakup anniversaries on a calendar somewhere? Never mind, I don't want to know.
Izzy: It’s important to know you’re not alone and that someone remembers with you. Brownies don’t fix things, but at least they make the moment sweeter. :)
Luke: Your brownies confirm two things: (1) You bake better than Josephine. (2) You’ve confirmed a decision I’ve made that I’ll tell you about when I see you. Thanks, Izzy.
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Luke Edgewood, Penelope Edgewood
Date: March 20
Subject: Brodie
Penelope and Luke,
I couldn't wait for dinner to share this with you. I just got off the video call with Brodie. The reception wasn’t ideal, but our call lasted for an hour before things became so bad we had to end it. He thinks the problem may have been on his side, but we all know it’s my inability to master technology. I think I have some sort of magnetic destructive field in my fingertips. Thank heavens my e-reader hasn’t borne the brunt of my unintentional electronic homicidal bent. Brodie did mention that his house (the one he’s renovating) is due for new Wi-Fi within the next week, so . . . maybe my inadequacy with technology isn’t at fault.
At any rate, the first part of the call was filled with those awkward silent moments that have punctuated the majority of my dating life. He made a few comments about how pleasant it was to finally see my face instead of Éowyn or Charlotte Brontë. I returned the favor and added that the rustic look of his living room reminded me of Christmas. More silence permeated a few bumbling exchanges and then he asked about the most recent book I was reading (I didn’t mention Eli’s) and then asked about my day and, well, I told the decapitated leprechaun story (leaving out the Eli parts). Everything changed. He laughed. I laughed. And suddenly the person from the emails emerged into the conversation and our dialogue turned into a pitifully hilarious one-up to who has had the most embarrassing moments. I must say, Brodie’s were impressive. Especially the one about the horse and a vat of pudding.
And I wondered if we’d have difficulty understanding one another, but his accent is not as thick as I’d imagined. There’s a bit of a James McAvoy feel to it. He seemed to understand my accent fine. Maybe he’s been practicing by watching The Andy Griffith Show reruns.
