“I’m a Taurus.” I lick my lips and shove Rodrick’s reference into my denim bag—the one Cytha and I bedazzled with patches and gems when we were eighth graders. It’s obnoxious, but it’s the only one I have.
“Dependable and stubborn—two of my favorite traits.” She holds out a hand. “I’m Marley. Can I help you find something?”
“Hi.” I toss my bag over my shoulder and take her hand. “I’m Esther, Esther Ray. Ah—I’m actually here about the help wanted sign.”
“Oh!” Marley claps. “That’s great! Can you work evenings?”
“Sure.”
“Weekends?”
“Yep.” Why not? Do I have anything else to do?
“You haven’t taken that short-temper that Taurus’s often have and committed any crimes, right?” She giggles, but leans in, waiting for my answer.
I shake my head, my full curls swaying. “Ah—no. No. Of course not.”
“Great. When can you start?”
“That’s it? Do you—ah—do you need a reference or—”
“We’ll eventually get all that.” Marley wrinkles her nose, “Paperwork.” She hums, pleased with her days find it seems. “Danny!” she suddenly bellows, and I jump, my back knocking into another stack of books. I spin, square my shoulders and catch the pile before it can turn into a heap on the ground.
A red-headed man pops into view over the edge of the upstairs balcony. “Yeah, babe?”
Marley cranes her neck back to see the man above us. “This is Esther. She’s a Taurus.” Marley’s brows lift as if this is great news and proves…well, anything.
Danny’s lips purse out, his bushy brows raising high on his head. “Awe, loyal and artistic.”
Marley nods. “I just hired her.”
My heart thar-umps in my chest as they converse—it has to be the strangest job interview in the history of the world. I bite my lip and offer a small wave toward Danny. He waves back, and then his head disappears.
“That’s Danny,” Marley says, pointing upward. “Love of my life, father of my child, sexiest man of The Bookcase.”
I can’t help it, a small laugh escapes my pinched lips.
“So, start day?”
“Whenever. I can start this minute if you want.”
“Dependable! See? I like that.”
I chew on a piece of dried skin from my lip and smirk. “What would have happened if I’d said Libra?”
“Cooperative and peace-loving?” Marley lifts one shoulder. “I’d rather have dependable.” She sets down her book and plucks a flower from her hair. She twirls the stem between two fingers, thinking. “All right, why don’t I show you around now, and then could you be back here at four? Finn works at four and he’ll be the one to train you.”
I bob my head in neither a nod or a shake. “Sure. Yeah. I can do that.” What else do I have to do? I’m not exactly anxious for “family dinners” with my uncle and his children. If I have to work, no one can complain that I’m not around.
“Great. Follow me!”
We’re on our fourth row of books—the memoir section—when I a sense of déjà vu comes over me—like I’ve been here before. It’s a strange feeling, almost as if it’s been building since the moment I stepped into the store and breathed in the dust from the thousands of books filling the place.
“Where are you from, Esther?”
“You can tell I’m not a local?” I didn’t even say Jackson Hole.
“I just assumed I would have seen you by now. I remember people, ya know? Those rock star eyes and that head of hair—I would have remembered you.”
I yank on a strand of my hair, pulling one of my tight curls until it straightens out to the middle of my chest and then bounces back into place at my shoulder. “I’m from Reno.”
“Did your parents move here for work? You’re in high school, right?” We weave through another aisle of shelves taller than me, my déjà vu stirring with every step.
“Ah, no.” This is always awkward—more for those who ask than for me. It’s a reality I’ve been living with for years, but I feel their discomfort the minute I confess my truth. “My parents died—a long time ago. My aunt who raised me also recently passed. I’m living with my uncle now.”
Marley stops walking, her tour far from an end, and studies me. Her eyes rove over every inch of my face, until I feel the heat in my cheeks. I am definitely the uneasy one as she wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight. It’s a comfortable action for her, it’s natural. She holds me close in silence. When she pulls back, her eyes meet mine again. “Dependable and strong.”
I take a step back and hope it doesn’t seem rude—I’m just not used to standing so close to people, or to having perfect strangers hug me. Between my uncle’s house and this bookshop, it’s happened twice in the last twenty-four hours.
She sighs, her lips turned up. “Okay, then. Around the corner we have our nineteenth-century authors and—”
“Mar!” Danny calls from upstairs. “Doc Allen’s on the phone.”
“Ooo, I have to take this.” She reaches out, her right hand holding my left upper arm. “Four?”
“Yeah, I’ll be back—on the dot.” Because apparently I’m super dependable.
I’m not sure why I wish I had something to change into when it comes time for me to go to work. Marley hired me in these ripped up jeans, so what does it matter? Back in Reno I don’t think I would have cared. Jackson is nice—like fancy—in a strange sort of way. I mean there’s an arch made of animal horns, but then there’s really nice houses and expensive looking shops, too. I can’t quite explain it, which annoyed Cytha when I texted her this afternoon and told her about the job.
“Esther,” Summer says, jogging to the thick wooden front door I have pulled open. “I made you dinner.” Her hair swings in its ponytail and she smiles. “We’re really sorry you can’t join us for family dinner tonight.”
“Um, yeah. Sorry.” I resist the urge to look at my watch for the time. It took me almost twenty minutes to get from Rodrick’s house to The Bookcase today.
“No need to be sorry. We’ll have plenty of dinners. Congrats on the job, by the way.” She holds out a pink vinyl lunch cooler.
It’s not that I hadn’t thought about food, but I wasn’t sure what to take. I may live in this house, but I’m still a guest. “Thanks, Summer. That’s really thoughtful.”
Her face softens and her grin widens, I think it’s because there’s more feeling in my thanks than anything I’ve said since arriving in Jackson. She waves and folds her arms into her tiny waist.
I’m antsy when I walk into the store because it’s 4:01 and Marley made such a big deal about me being dependable. No one sits at the cashier’s table though.
“Hello?” I say. The tall, deep building feels empty when no one returns my greeting. Someone has to be here though. I weave through the aisles of bookcases until I reach the spot where Marley and I left off. Did I think she’d be here waiting for me? Maybe she’s not here at all. She said Finn would train me. “Hello?” I say again, this time a little louder.