It seemed fitting to begin with the mysteries.
After all, there were two choices Mari could make right now. She could wash her hands of the bookstore and flat by passing them over to be sold by the solicitors, with whom she had just met, then head back to California. Or she could stay in England and try to run Elderflower Island Books as her own business.
Unfortunately, like all well-written mysteries, she couldn’t for the life of her visualize the ending of the story.
Was it crazy of her to hope that perusing some of her favorite Mathilda Westcott novels could help her figure things out? Not only was Owen’s grandmother a master at building plots that twisted and turned, she was also intimately familiar with the bookstore and island that provided their setting.
After breakfast, when Owen had headed to the train station to attend a meeting in central London, Mari had enough time to make a quick stop at the island’s corner grocer before the solicitors came by the store for a meeting to discuss the details of her inheritance in person. The grocery was a surprisingly upscale place, with reclaimed wood shelves, organic produce, and baskets with mouthwatering home-baked scones and honeycombs. Given that the island’s population couldn’t be more than a few hundred people, Mari assumed there must be a large tourist population to support stores like this, the tea shop, and the boutiques.
Even on a weekday morning, there were plenty of people crossing the bridge with large cameras around their necks, or carrying walking sticks and wearing mud-encrusted hiking boots. Not to mention several people in neoprene carrying water shoes and blow-up paddle boards.
All around her, life moved forward. Tourists discovering a beautiful new part of the world. Locals appreciating their own waterways and parks.
And then there was Mari. A daughter who was only just beginning to discover who her absent father had been. And a woman who had been hit by an instant attraction—and connection—to Owen Sullivan.
She was looking forward to seeing Owen again tonight. But she was also nervous. Because falling for a charming Englishman was something her mother would never be able to accept. Even if Owen was nothing like Charlie.
In any case, Mari was getting way ahead of herself. Just because Owen had said she was pretty didn’t mean they were going to launch a full-fledged love affair.
Besides, the meeting she’d just had with the solicitors had brought her down to earth. Way down. Inside the store, it was a relief to temporarily shove the legal and tax details of her inheritance into the back of her brain and turn her focus instead to the packed and untidy shelves.
Unsurprisingly, Charlie had stocked multiple copies of all twenty-five books in the Bookshop on the River series. Mari was in the middle of organizing Mathilda’s books when she heard a knock on the door. Since Owen wasn’t going to return until that evening, who was here to get a look at her now?
Wiping her dusty hands on her jeans, Mari went to open the door and found a pretty woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties standing outside.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“Actually, I was wondering if I could help you.” The woman stuck out her hand. “I’m Alice Sullivan. You’ve met my brother Owen already.” Alice’s smile was totally genuine and disarming. As were the smudges of dirt on her face, hat, and clothes. “I’m not afraid to get dirty, as you can see, and I’m sure this feels like an awfully big job to tackle on your own.”
Yesterday, Mari hadn’t been sure that she wanted anyone else involved in her mess. But Owen had been so kind—and spoken so warmly about his family—that she knew it would be a mistake to turn away his sister.
“Some help would be great. And please call me Mari.” She stepped aside to let Alice in. “I’m working on the Mysteries section now. Any preference for which section you’d like to take a crack at organizing?”
“I work at Kew Gardens.” She pointed in a westward direction. “It’s only a five-minute bus ride away if you want to come for a personal tour. Which is my long-winded way of saying I would be happy to dig into the gardening section. Charlie always had a nice selection of titles, but I’ll admit I wished I could have taken charge of his shelving decisions.”
“Considering I don’t know a primrose from a peony, I’d be delighted for you to have at it.”
Mysteries and Gardening were close enough for the two women to chat as they took books off the shelves, dusted, then reshelved the books in their proper places.
“How are you liking England so far?” Alice asked.
“I love it as much as I thought I would. Even more, actually.”
“I’m really glad to hear that. But I’m so sorry you couldn’t come under happier circumstances. We all miss your father.”
“I didn’t really know him.” Mari had barely spoken of her father for most of her life. But now that she was in his home, she couldn’t keep the words from spilling out. At least when it came to the Sullivans. Though she didn’t know what Owen had told his sister, she suspected he wasn’t much for gossip. “He left when I was three.”
“I had no idea.” Alice leaned away from the shelf she was reorganizing so that Mari could see her face. “You must have really mixed feelings about being here—and not just because it’s such a mess.”
“I do.” Mari appreciated the way Alice immediately understood. “Although today is a lot better than yesterday.”
“Good. And hopefully, tomorrow will be even better than today.” With that, she tucked back into the Gardening shelves.
Mari liked Alice—her sunny outlook, her honest and straight-to-the-point emotional responses, her willingness to pitch in. “Owen said he was one of five. Do your siblings all live close by?”
“Everyone is in London, but we don’t see much of Fiona. We haven’t seen much of Owen for the last year either,” she added.
What had happened a year ago in Owen’s life? Mari wondered. Had he also been hit with a massive life change from out of the blue, just like her?
“Has my brother already given you the family rundown, or should I?” Alice asked.
“I know your names and, of course I’m a huge fan of your grandmother’s books, but I’d love to hear more.” Learning about the people Charlie had been close to made Mari feel a little closer to him.
“Okay.” Mari could hear the smile in Alice’s voice as she began to run through the details of her family. “If you didn’t already know, Owen is the oldest and in charge of running Gran’s business. He works all the time. His office is just down the road in Gran’s cottage, where she’s probably sitting at her desk in the window right now, working on her next novel. Malcolm is next oldest and does big business deals. Then there’s Tom and his little girl, Aria. She’s five and the most beautiful angel you’ll ever see.” Alice was full of pure love for her niece. “Tom puts on concerts all over England. Pop, rock, jazz, classical—pretty much whatever takes his fancy. There’s a venue on the island that we’ve been trying to convince him to take over. The Rolling Stones, The Who, and tons of other bands got their start there. The concert hall is starting to crumble from years of neglect, unfortunately, but I’m thinking if he took it over, he and Aria could move to the island for good.”
“What about his wife?”
Alice snorted from the other side of the shelves. “Don’t get me started. Tom and Aria’s mother never married—which wasn’t at all a bad thing. Especially since she barely stuck around long enough to give birth. I really hope you don’t like Lyla Imogen’s songs.”
“Your brother has a daughter with Lyla Imogen?”
“It was before she was famous. He’s the one who gave her her big break. Anyway, then there’s my sister, Fiona. With her fancy house in Chelsea and all her couture gowns for the charity events she chairs, everything looks perfect on the surface. But I’m not sure she’s happy. Especially with her husband, Lewis.”
Hearing about Owen and Alice’s family made Mari realize she wasn’t the only one with a complicated life story.
“You’re not afraid to tell it like it is, are you?” Mari had never met anyone quite like Alice, someone who held nothing back and expected the same from others.
“It’s always easier to diagnose someone else’s problems, rather than look at your own,” Alice replied. “At least that’s what my mum always tells me.”
“Are your parents close by too?”
“They’re just across the river in St. Margarets. I’ll take you exploring, if you like.” She leaned back so that Mari could see her sparkling eyes as she added, “Unless Owen beats me to it.”
“He’s been really nice and helpful.” Mari tried, and failed, to hide her blush. “Tell me more about your parents.”
“Mum puts on exhibitions at the V&A. We grew up running around the museum after hours.”
“From what I’ve read online, the Victoria & Albert Museum looks incredible.”
“There are so many places in London you’ve got to see. I know some people think the city is dirty and crowded, but I love it!”
“I do too, at least from the little I’ve seen so far.”
“Charlie also loved London.” Alice paused. “Is it okay for me to talk about him?”
“Actually, it’s a bit of a relief.” Mari was surprised to realize how true that was. “Coming here isn’t only about figuring out if I should reopen his store—it’s also about learning who he was. Tell me, what did he love about London?”
“Charlie was fascinated by the history of the Underground. My dad was a train engineer for a long time, so they always bonded over Tube trivia.”
“Your father drove trains on the London Underground?” Mari marveled. “I can’t think of a more quintessentially British job, other than guarding Buckingham Palace.”
“If you really want British tradition, you should come for our big Sunday roast this weekend. I know my parents would love to meet you. Malc will probably talk your ear off about the year he lived in the States.” Before Mari could reply, Alice jumped up from her stool. “Oh! I’ve been talking so much that I almost forgot to pick up the cosmos seeds I need from Petersham Nurseries. Sorry I wasn’t more help. I’ll swing back as soon as I get another free moment. I’d love to tackle the patio garden in the back next time, if you’d like?”
“You have no idea how much I would appreciate that. It seems like such a big job for a nongreen thumb like me that I was tempted to ignore it for the time being.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it beautiful for you and your customers. I have some extra plants that I can’t squeeze into my own tiny garden, so I’ll bring those with me next time. And if you’re up for it, either Owen or I will come by to take you to our parents’ house on Sunday.”
Alice Sullivan was a whirlwind, in the best way possible. If Mari could channel only half her energy, she’d be done sorting out the bookstore in no time.
As the bookstore door closed behind the other woman, Mari took a step back to look at their progress. Now, two shelves in each section they’d worked on looked perfect. Though it might not be much progress in the grand scheme of things, at the very least it gave her a sense of how the store could look once all the shelves were dusted and put into good order.
Her accountant’s brain guesstimated there were approximately two hundred and fifty shelves in the store. At a half hour cleanup time per shelf, that was three forty-hour weeks put into nothing but shelf cleanup and reorganization. Who knew how much time it would take to take care of everything else, like painting and creating a website and ordering new inventory? Still, she’d never been afraid of hard work before. Just because this particular business and location and connection to her father had a tendency to send her emotions topsy-turvy didn’t negate her work ethic.
The buzzing in her pocket interrupted her thoughts. Pulling out her phone, she saw Carson’s face on the screen. She clicked to accept the video call. “Hi.”
“Hey, sis. How’s England so far?”
“England is amazing.” Knowing he would see the truth in her face, she didn’t bother trying to spin anything. “The store, on the other hand…” She did a slow scan of the room so he could see it.
He let out a low whistle. “That looks pretty daunting.”
“I’ve just calculated that it’s going to take me three weeks just to clean up the shelves. But I’ve decided there’s no use in panicking about it, when the best thing I can do is just get on with it.”
“I like your positive outlook,” he said, “and I know you wanted to tackle this on your own, but—”
“I’m not on my own. I seem to have been semi-adopted by a couple of members of a local family who were close to Charlie. They’ve both been in to help already, and I’ve been invited to have a roast lunch with them this Sunday.”
“After the way Mom talked about your birth father our whole lives, it’s a little strange to think that he had close friends, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “I keep thinking that if he wasn’t such a bad guy after all, then why did he never reach out to me? I mean, maybe it was harder when I was still a kid and he knew how angry Mom was. But once I was an adult, he could have at least held out an olive branch.”
“Mari.” Carson’s voice was gentle. “Whatever his reasons were for abandoning you, none of them have been your fault. No matter what you find out while you’re in England, that fact won’t change.”
From a purely rational standpoint, she knew her brother was right. And if her life was nothing more than a spreadsheet, the way she kept trying to force it to be every time she felt overwhelmed, rational would win every time.
But emotion rarely ran along rational lines, did it?
“Thanks for checking in,” she said, giving him a small smile. “How are things going for you?”
“Crazy, like always.” He ran a hand through his hair, which was sticking straight up. Given the time difference, she guessed he had only just gotten out of bed. “But family comes first, so if you ever get to a point where you need serious backup, promise you’ll call me.”
“I will.” Sunlight was streaming in the window. Before they hung up, she wanted her brother to see some of the reasons why she wasn’t willing to turn away from the hard work of putting the store back together, no matter how daunting the task. “I’ve shown you the mess. Now I’m going to show you the beauty.” Walking outside, she did another slow scan with her phone, this time of the river, the pub, the street as it wound down to the boathouse, then the other way toward the boutiques and corner grocer. “Isn’t it incredible?”
“It couldn’t look more different than SoCal—and it couldn’t look more like you.” He grinned. “You’re going to knock this out of the park, Mari.” It was what she always said to him when he was going in for yet another important pitch meeting for his startup. And she had been right every time. “Something tells me Elderflower Island is where you’re meant to be.”
No matter how badly she might secretly wish it was true, she wasn’t one hundred percent sure yet. Especially if she couldn’t get the bookstore up and running at a profit before the money ran out. And that wasn’t accounting for how furious her mother would be if she did end up staying.
They hung up, and as Mari slipped the phone back into her pocket, she filled her lungs with fresh air. Yes, she remained confused as to why her father had behaved as he had. Yes, she was pretty darn far out of her comfort zone in running a bookstore—especially one that needed so much work before she could even reopen it. But it was one of her biggest dreams to own a bookstore. And right now, that seemed more important than anything else.
Fueled with new determination, she headed back into the store and threw herself into cleaning and organizing the next shelf.