A Small Red Heart

A Story by etrntruth

            He was the most enthralling thing she’d ever seen. Molly couldn’t help but notice the way his hair fell across his forehead or the way he wrinkled his nose when he was thinking. He was trying to describe a book; she was dreaming up his name.
            He paused and then asked, “Do you have any idea what I’m talking about?”
            “No idea,” Molly answered. She frowned. She was just wasting time. “I wish I could help you. Do you want me to let you know if I find the book you’re talking about?”
            “No thanks,” He answered and waved as he walked out the door.
            Molly sighed with relief and regret. Now she could go back to reading while she kept an eye on the small but well stocked bookstore she inherited after her mother’s passing some time ago. She had grown up in the aisles of these used books. Memories and books were all she had now. Molly frowned again, thinking of both the memories of her mother and the customer she failed to help. She wished that she knew his name.
            Besides books, not many things could grab her attention or make her want to learn more. Her mother taught her the value of books. In addition to the many different realms and worlds she could visit, the books Molly read taught her many things about this world and life. She’d learned that love is a malady and life overrated and unfair. She’d also learned that only in fairytales and fiction could people live forever. Molly judged each book that she read; she both treasured and criticized them. Sometimes a title or a cover would catch her eye. Other times it was a page in the middle or the way the words flowed.
            She found it surprising that this man could interest her so much for no reason and in such a short amount of time. It wasn’t just his hair or his face that she noticed. There was something beneath the surface of this man in his suit that made her curious. He was like a cover with no title, or a book with a hidden secret.
            Molly sat in the bookshop and read until she felt hungry. She looked at the time and realized she was late for dinner. Her friend Mina was probably already waiting for her at the local coffee shop “The Thick & Thin”. Molly stood up and went to the front door to close. The sun was already setting on what would have been a gorgeous summer day in the city had she been outside. She looked out the window a minute longer and walked outside with keys in her hand.
            Molly walked a few blocks down to the coffee shop where she could she Mina already sitting in their favorite booth. She walked in and sat down. “Sorry I’m late,” she said.
            “It’s fine,” Mina responded.”So, how’s the store?”
            “Good. Mostly empty like always.”
            “Mostly empty?” Mina asked excitedly. “You mean you’ve finally had customers?”
            “Yup,” Molly answered and began to describe her day and the customer to her eager friend.
            Molly and Mina had been friends since elementary school. Growing up, they were inseparable. They shared a bus, classes, and a love of books. They would tell each other their dreams for the future, their most recent crushes, and gossip if one of them had missed it. Mina grew up to be her own woman.
            Though still young, she was an entrepreneur of many trades, and if there was something new that she wanted to learn, she would. Many people described her as eccentric, and maybe she was. But to Molly, it didn’t matter. Mina’s style of clothes or unconventional hairstyles and jobs didn’t make her any less of a person. If anything, it made her more of one. In many ways, Mina reminded Molly of herself. And to top it off, Mina was always there if someone needed her. She was her best friend.
            Mina asked more about the mystery man after hearing about Molly’s day. Molly leaned back and enjoyed her small dinner and coffee. “There really isn’t anything more to tell,” Molly answered.
            “Of course there is,” Mina insisted. “What was he wearing? And what book was it that you said he was looking for?”
            “A suit. And I didn’t know the book. He said it was by a philosopher, and had something to do with the Catholic Church.”
            Mina sipped her coffee. “I don’t know about very many philosophers.”
            “I couldn’t recognize the one he described. But anyway, how was your day?” Molly asked.
            Mina described her newest job as a receptionist in a large insurance firm. It sounded too typical for Molly to picture Mina working there, but there must be something that Mina enjoyed or found challenging. Mina and Molly went on about their days, work, and everything else they could think of until they both decided that they had drunk too much coffee for one evening.      They paid for their dinner and said goodnight to the owner of The Thick and Thin, Ben Cooper. Mina walked with Molly back to the bookshop, and they made arrangements for another visit to The Thick and Thin later in the week before Mina left. Molly had lived above the bookstore with her mother since she was born, and here she still was. The shop was all she had left of her mother. It was her mother’s dream, which Molly was keeping alive. Molly went up to her apartment, which had the convenience of sitting over the bookshop and its wide selection of previously read books.
            Molly sat at the kitchen table, which was still piled with books. Most of them were books that Molly was planning to read or had read. But some of the book piles were from when Molly’s mother was alive. Maybe it was time Molly should sort them. She decided to wait for another night. Molly went into her bedroom and turned on the light. She had with her the book she was reading earlier in the day. She crawled into her bed and read until she fell asleep late in the night.
            Molly woke up in time for work like she always did. She went down to the shop to organize books, clean, and take care of customers if there’d be any, which had always been rare. The man who came in the day before had been an exception; he was also one of a handful of customers since Molly’s mother passed. She thought about the man as she cleaned. By closing time there was only a small section to be organized the following day. Molly locked the door and went upstairs leaving the rest for then.
            By the end of the week Molly had the whole shop reorganized and clean. She was in the process of redoing the sign in the window when Mina walked in.
            “I got off work early and thought I’d stop in. Hope you don’t mind,” she said.
            “Not at all.” Molly smiled.
            “You’ve really been busy lately, haven’t you? The shop looks completely different,” Mina asked as she started walking through the aisles of books.
            Molly shrugged. “It gave me something to do. So are you ready to go for lunch? You’re not really that early.”
            “Sure,” Mina answered. “So have you found that book yet?”
            “Nope,” Molly answered as she finished the sign. They walked out the door talking about all of the books that she had found.
            Molly and Mina ordered their lunch and coffee. Even though The Thick and Thin was busy at the hour, they managed to sit where they normally would. They started to catch up from when they’d seen each other last. Molly sipped her coffee while she listened to Mina, and then stared.
            Mina noticed right away. “What is it?”
            “It’s the guy from the bookstore the other day. I never expected to see him again, ever.”
            “Where?” Mina asked, and Molly quickly tried to point him out.
            “The one in black? That’s Michael Peterson. I work with him,” Mina responded.
            Molly shook her head. “No, the one beside him in the suit.”
            ”Oh! You mean David. That’s David Taylor. I work with him too.”
            “David,” Molly murmured, as she drifted into thought.
            “Molly! Here they come!” Mina said. Molly cleared her head and sat up straighter.
            David and Michael walked over. “How are you, Morris?” the one in black asked.
            Mina answered, “Good, Peterson. You? How are you, David? Oh, this is my friend Molly, Molly Johnson. She owns the little bookstore a few blocks away.”
            “I’ve been there,” David answered. He smiled and looked at Molly. “Nice to meet you again, Molly. I’m glad to have a name to put with your face.”
            “Same,” Molly said, and smiled back.
            “Ahem,” Michael coughed. “We were just leaving. Good to see you, Morris. And Mina, nice meeting you. You ready, Taylor?”
            “Yeah,” David said. They started walking away. David waved.
            “He likes you,” Mina giggled. “I heard him talking to Peterson about someone. I didn’t realize it was you.”
            “He likes me? Right,” Molly answered. She picked up her coffee and looked out the window. She saw Michael and David walking farther down the street. Molly had never felt this way.
            “You’ll see,” was all Mina said. But love was pointless, wasn’t it?
            Molly went back to work. At the end of the day, she went up to her apartment, and decided to organize the books on the table after dinner. It was about time that she did it, and it was the only left that needed done. Besides, she needed something to distract her. She ate, and started sorting. Occasionally she’d find herself reading.
            Later into the night, Molly found herself getting tired. But there was only one more stack of books left; all of them were her mothers. She paused and sighed. She thought of her mother and their time together. It had always been Molly, her mother, and books. Now it was Molly, her mother’s shop, and many of the same books. She started sorting the books, treasuring her mother’s taste in covers, titles, and content.
            It took longer to organize those books than it should have, but Molly didn’t mind. She was enjoying the chance to reminisce, and it felt good to think of her mother. She picked up the next book, a small red one with no title. She didn’t recognize this book. She opened it and started to read.
            To the love of my life, my daughter �"Denise Johnson, it began. Molly read until she finished reading her mother’s book, a handwritten journal that explained her life and wishes for Molly. Molly was crying long before she finished. She hugged her mother’s journal close until she stopped. She laid it carefully aside and wiped her eyes. She looked at the last book lying on the table. It was a book written by Saint Augustine and quoted often by her mother in both her journal and in life, she realized.
            Cherish life, and cherish love. Remember me always, her mother’s journal had ended. Molly realized that maybe she was wrong about love. After all, she had been reading the wrong books. But after she read her mother’s journal, she felt like she understood so much more about life and the world, and love and her mother.
            She picked up both the journal and book by Saint Augustine and carried them into her nightstand. “I found the book you were looking for, David,” she said to herself. She fell asleep smiling, thinking about her mother and wondering when she would see him again.