Dear Meredith by Belle Kismet Read Free Book Online

been snoozing behind the counter.
                You knew nothing of course, but I could see your relief that I had been coming back from my walks looking less and less moody. Of course, sneaking in time to write you these letters also went a good way towards helping me accept the fact that I was dying. Because I knew I would go without leaving you cast adrift like a balloon floating helplessly in the wind after its string has been cut.
                I've gone through Mr. Chin's book inventory - it's quite extensive and I think you'll find it a good starting point. I've taken the liberty of storing the books in a warehouse, because I strongly suspect you'll want to do a bit of redecorating.
                So that's the first surprise. I have no idea how you're gonna swallow this idea that you now own a bookstore - as I write this, my stomach is cramping in anxiety! But I hope you will love it as much as I think you will.
                I love you so very much.
     
                Your biggest fan,
                Michael
     
                p.s. Call Daniel for the bookstore details. For the second surprise, check my study table, first drawer on the right. Remember, you can do it.
     
                I feel a bit faint. As I set the letter down, his words swim around in my head. Whoa. I own a bookstore.
                This feels unreal. And yet incredibly right. My husband had suddenly transformed into a sort of Santa Claus, presenting me with gifts I hadn't even known I needed.
                So that's what he had been up to during his long, mysterious walks. He was right, I had noticed a change in him towards the end of the second week since the diagnosis. He seemed a little easier with himself, and had regained some animation in his character.
                I close my eyes in self-recrimination. I had had no idea he had been so angry with himself, and I kicked myself for not noticing.
                When Laney gets back fifteen minutes later, fairly bursting with curiousity and bearing gifts of a pepperoni pizza (extra cheese) and buffalo wings, I numbly hand her the letter.
                I start chewing meditatively on a slice as I watch her eyes get rounder with every word.
                She looks up at me. "My God, this is incredible. Mike sure has a flair for the dramatic. You can't make this stuff up. How amazing is he? This story wouldn't look out of place in The Daily Mail."
                I can't help a giggle. The UK tabloid is one of our greatest vices and I love reading every single trashy article on it. Besides, its reporters really did have a talent for digging up wonderful human interest stories and I occasionally found myself near tears after reading some of them.
                "Yeah, it wouldn't, would it? I think I'm still in shock. But oh, Laney, I own a bookstore !" Even as I say it, I feel a surge of wonder welling up in me. Suddenly, I cannot wait to see this little corner shop that my husband had bought for me and explore every nook and cranny of it.
                Laney shares my excitement. We've been friends since we were in first grade after chumming up together to avoid being left the odd one out during games.
                As the letter's contents sink in deeper, I feel a stab of anxiety. "Do you really think I can do it? Run a bookstore? I mean, I know practically nothing about it although I'm a self-professed bookworm."
                "I'm sure you can," she says immediately. "Mike clearly thinks so and I agree with him. Anyway, you'll never know until you try, right? A bookstore isn't exactly the most risky operation," she laughs. She's right - Mike has handed me this chance to live my dream and I'd be a fool not to take it just because I don't have faith in myself. But I don't want to do this alone.