Chapter 7 Chapter 6 The Famous Leaping Frog of Calavera County

"Song of Solomon" and she was reading "Olive Kitteridge" by Elizabeth Struett.With that tabby "Blue Pit" between the two of you, I'm happier than I can remember. That spring, Amelia started wearing flats and found herself making more door-to-door sales at Kojima Books than clients technically needed.If her boss noticed, he didn't say anything.Publishing is still a genteel profession, and AJ Fikri has more books at Knightley than almost any other bookstore on the Northeast Corridor.Whether such a large amount was due to love or business considerations or both, Amelia's boss didn't care. "Perhaps," said the proprietor to Amelia, "you might suggest to Mr. Fikry that you put a spotlight on the table in front of the store with the Knightley books?"

That spring, just before Amelia stepped onto the ferry back to Hyannis, AJ kissed her and said, "You can't be based on an island. You have to travel a lot for work." She put her hand on him, kept an arm's length away from him, and laughed at him. "I agree with that, but you're just trying to persuade me to move to Alice Island?" "No, I'm... well, I'm thinking of you," AJ said. "It's not practical for you to move to Alice Island, that's my opinion." "No, not practical," she said.She drew a heart shape on his chest with her neon pink nails.

"What color is that?" AJ asked. "'Rose Glass'." The whistle sounded, and Amelia boarded. That spring, while waiting for the Greyhound bus, AJ told Amelia, "You can't even spend three months a year at Alice Island." "Even if I go to Afghanistan to commute, the transportation will be easier," she said. "By the way, I like it when you bring it up at the bus stop." "I try not to think about it until the last moment." "That's a way too." "I think you mean it's not a good idea." He took her hand.Her hands are large, but well-proportioned.It is the hand of the pianist, the hand of the sculptor. "You have two artist hands."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "But with the mind of a book sales rep." She painted her nails dark purple. "What color is it this time?" he asked. "'Bruce Traveler'. I'm thinking about it. Next time I'm in Alice Island, can I paint Maya's nails? She keeps pestering me." That spring, Amelia led Maya to the drugstore and asked her to pick out her favorite nail polish color. "How did you choose?" Maya asked. "Sometimes I ask myself how I feel," Amelia said, "Sometimes I ask myself how I want to feel." Maya studied the rows of glass bottles carefully.She picked up a bottle of red and put it back.She took the rainbow silver off the shelf.

"Oh, beautiful. That's the best part, every color has a name," Amelia told her, "You turn the bottle upside down." Maya turned the bottle upside down. "It's like a book title! 'Rebel Pearl,'" she read. "What's your kind called?" Amy chose a light blue. "'Keep it easy.'" That weekend, Maya accompanied AJ to the pier.She put her arms around Amelia and told her not to go. "I don't want to go either," Amelia said. "Then why do you have to go?" Maya asked. "Because I don't live here."

"Why don't you live here?" "Because my job is elsewhere." "You can come to work in the bookstore." "I can't. Your dad will probably kill me. Besides, I like my job." She looked at AJ, who was seriously checking his phone.The whistle sounded. "Say goodbye to Amy," AJ said. Amelia calls AJ on the ferry: "I can't move out of Providence, you can't move out of Alice Island. It's a difficult situation." "Indeed." He agreed, "What color did you paint today?" "'Keep it easy.'"

"Is it that important?" "No," she said. That spring, Amelia's mother said: "It's not fair to you. You're thirty-six years old. You're not getting any younger. If you really want to have a baby, you can't do it again in a period where you can't succeed." Waste of time on relationships, Amy." Ismay said to AJ: "This person named Amelia is such a big part of your life, if you don't mean it to her, it's not fair to Maya." And Daniel said to AJ: "You should not change your life for any woman." The fine weather that June made AJ and Amelia forget these and other objections.Amelia stayed for two weeks when she came to present the fall list.She wore seersucker shorts and daisy-embellished flip flops. "I'm afraid I won't be able to see much of you this summer," she said. "I've been traveling for work, and then my mom is coming to Providence in August."

"I can visit you," AJ suggested. "I don't really have time," Amelia said, "except for August, and my mother's opinion is set." AJ smears sunscreen on her strong, supple back, thinking he really can't live without her, thinking of creating a reason for her to come to Alice Island. As soon as she got back to Providence, AJ contacted her on Skype. "I've been thinking, we should have Leon Friedman come to the bookstore for a book signing in August, when the summer vacationers are still there." "You hate those people in summer," said Amelia.More than once, she has heard AJ complain loudly about the seasonal residents of Alice Island: families who buy ice cream at Captain Boomer's store and then turn into the bookstore, letting their toddlers run around in the bookstore. , touching everything; theater festivalgoers, who always laugh too loudly; people brought from colder regions, who think going to the beach once a week to take a bath will solve their personal hygiene problems.

"That's not true," AJ said, "I like to complain about them, but I sell them a lot of books. Also, Nicole once said that, contrary to popular belief, the best time to hold an event for an author is August. That People will feel very bored at that time, and they can do anything to understand boredom, even go to listen to the author's reading." "A writer's recital," said Amelia, "for God's sake, that's hardly entertainment." "Compared to "True Blood", I don't think it counts." She was deaf. “Actually, I like readings.” When she was just starting out in publishing, a boyfriend lured her to a ticketed Alice McDermott reading at Ninety-second Street Y.Amelia thought she didn't like "Billy Charming," but when she heard McDermott read—the way she waved her arms, the way she emphasized certain words—she realized that she hadn't I didn't understand that novel.As they left the recital, the boyfriend apologized to her on the subway: “I’m sorry if it’s been a bit of a mess.” A week later, Amelia ended their relationship.She can't help thinking now how young she was and how ridiculously high her standards were.

"Okay," Amelia said to AJ, "I'll put you in touch with a publicist." "You'll be here too, won't you?" "I try. My mom is coming to see me in August, so..." "Bring her!" AJ said, "I want to meet your mom." "You say that only because you haven't seen her," said Amelia. "Amelia, my dear, you have to come. I asked Leon Freedman for you." "I don't remember saying I wanted to see Leon Friedman," Amelia said.But that's the beauty of the video call, AJ thought—he could see her smiling.

The first thing AJ did on Monday morning was call the Leon Friedman folks at Knightley.She is twenty-six years old and a newcomer, and the publishing house has always been a newcomer.She had to Google "Leon Friedman" to find out which book it was. "Oh, about the book "Late Evening Blooms", you ask the author to make a public appearance, this is the first time I have received such a request." "This book is really popular in our bookstore. We have sold many copies." AJ said. "You're probably the first person to organize a Leon Friedman-related event. Seriously, it hasn't been done before. I think so." The publicist paused. "Let me talk to his editor. Talk, see if he can come to the event. I've never met him, but I'm looking at his picture right now, and he's... mature. Can I call you back?" "Assuming he hasn't matured enough to get out of the house, I'd like to schedule the event for the end of August, before the summer holiday crowd leaves. That way he can sell a little more books." A week later, the publicist called back, saying that Leon Friedman was still alive and would be at Kojima Books in August. AJ hadn't organized a writer's event in years because he simply had no talent for arranging such events.When there was an event for writers on Alice Island or when Nicole was alive, she always arranged everything.He tried to remember what she had done. He ordered books, hung posters of Leon Friedman's aging face in the store, sent relevant social media messages, and asked his friends and employees to do the same.However, he didn't feel like it was enough.Nicole's book party always has some gimmick, so AJ tries to come up with one.Leon Friedman was old and that book failed too.Neither of these facts seems enough to hold up a book party.It's a romantic book, but also surprisingly depressing. AJ decides to call Lambiase, who suggests frozen shrimp from Costco, which AJ now realizes is the party suggestion that Lambiase would definitely give. "Hi," Lambiase said, "since you're doing events now, I'd really like to meet Geoffrey Deaver. We at Alice Island Police are big fans of his." AJ then called Daniel, who told him, "The only thing you need for a good book party is a good supply of booze." "Put Ismay on the phone," AJ said. "It's not a particularly literary or brilliant book, but how about a garden party?" Ismay said. "Late Blooms. Blooms, understand?" "I understand," he said. “Everyone wears flowered hats. You get the writers to be judges for hat contests or something. It’ll liven things up and your mom friends will probably all be there, even if it’s just to photograph each other wearing ridiculous hats Photos from the time will also be." AJ thought about it. "That sounds scary." "Just a suggestion." "But when I think about it, it's probably the good kind of horror." "I accept the compliment. Is Amelia coming?" "Of course I hope she's coming," AJ said. "I'm throwing this shitty party just for her." That July, AJ and Maya went to the only jewelry store on Alice Island. AJ points to an old-fashioned ring with a square stone on a simple setting. "Too ordinary," Maya said.She chose one with a yellow diamond the size of the Ritz, and found that it cost about as much as a first edition of Timur in excellent condition. They settled on a 1960s-style ring with a diamond in the center and enamel petals. "Like a daisy," Maya said, "Amy loves flowers and things that make you happy." AJ thought the ring was a bit flashy, but he knew Maya was right—Amelia would choose a ring like this, it would make her happy.At the very least, the ring would match her flip flops. Walking back to the bookstore, AJ reminds Maya that Amelia may refuse. "She'll still be friends with us," AJ said, "even if she rejects us." Maya nodded, and then a few more. "Why would she refuse?" "Well... Actually there are many reasons. To be precise, your father is not in demand." Maya laughed. "you are silly." "And the place where we live is inconvenient to traffic, Amy has a lot of work because of work." "Are you going to propose to her at this book party?" Maya asked. AJ shakes his head. "No, I don't want to embarrass her." "Why embarrass her?" "Well, I don't want her to feel cornered and have to say yes because there's a lot of people around, you know?" When he was nine, his dad took him to a Giants game.They ended up sitting next to a woman who was proposed on a jumbo screen during the intermission.As the camera pans on to the woman, she says "I do."But as soon as the third quarter began, the woman began to cry uncontrollably.Since then, AJ has not liked football. "Maybe I don't want to embarrass myself either." "After the party?" Maya said. "Yes, if I can muster the courage." He looked at Maya, "By the way, you agree?" She nodded, then wiped her glasses on the T-shirt. "Dad, I told her about the animal garden." "What the hell did you say?" "I told her I didn't like it at all, and I'm pretty sure we went to Rhode Island just to see her." "Why are you telling her this?" "She said a few months ago that you are sometimes hard to guess." "I'm afraid that may be true." Writers are never quite like the pictures in their books, but the first thing AJ thought of when he saw Leon Friedman was that he was nothing like the pictures.Leon Friedman was a little thinner, with a longer nose and a clean shaven face.The real Leon Friedman looks between the old Hemingway and the Santa Claus in the department store: a big red nose, a big belly, a thick white beard, and twinkling eyes, which look better than those in the portrait He is about ten years younger. Maybe that's just the overweight and the beard, AJ thought. "Lion Friedman, a brilliant novelist," Friedman introduced himself.He pulled AJ towards him and gave him a hug. "Nice to meet you. You must be AJ. That girl from Knightley said you liked my book. You have good taste, if I must." "It's funny that you call it a novel," AJ said. "Would you say it's a novel or a memoir?" "Well, we can go on and on forever, can't we? You don't happen to have a glass of wine for me. For me, a little old wine would make this kind of event better." Ismay had tea and finger sandwiches for the event, but no wine.The event was scheduled for two o'clock on a Sunday afternoon, and Ismay hadn't thought of the need for alcohol, thinking it wouldn't go with the mood of the party. AJ goes upstairs to find a bottle of wine. When he came back downstairs, Maya was sitting on Leon Freedman's lap. "I like Late Blossoms," Maya is saying, "but I'm not sure I'm the intended audience for this book." "Oh ho ho, that's a very interesting remark of yours, girl," replied Leon Friedman. "I've said that a lot. The only other writer I know is Daniel Parrish. Do you know him?" "I can't tell." Maya sighed. "Talking to you is harder than talking to Daniel Parrish. What's your favorite book?" "I don't know of any books I like best. That aside, why don't you tell me what you want for Christmas?" "Christmas presents?" Maya said. "It's four months until Christmas." AJ took his daughter from Friedman's lap and gave him a glass of wine in exchange. "Thank you from the bottom of my heart," Friedman said. "Before the reading, would you mind signing a few books in the bookstore?" AJ led Friedman to the back, brought him a box of paperback books, and gave him a pen.Friedman was about to sign his name on the cover, but AJ stopped him, "We usually let the author sign on the title page, if you have no objection." "Sorry," Friedman replied, "I'm a newbie." "It's okay," AJ said. "Would you mind telling me how you want me to perform over there?" "Yeah," AJ said, "I'll introduce you in a few words, and then I think you can introduce the book, tell me what inspired you to write this book, and then you can maybe read a couple of pages, and then If you have time, you can take questions from the live audience. Also, in honor of the book, we will be hosting a hat contest and we would be honored if you could pick a winner." "It sounds fantastic," Friedman said. "Friedman, FRIEDMAN," he said, signing, "it's easy to forget that 'I'." "Really?" AJ said. "There's supposed to be an 'e', ​​right?" Writers are weirdos, and AJ decided to let it go. "You seem to get on well with kids," AJ said. "Yeah... I used to play Santa at my local Macy's at Christmas time." "Really? That's not easy." "I have a knack, I think." "I meant to say—" AJ hesitated, trying to make sure what he was about to say would offend Friedman—"I just wanted to say, because you're Jewish." "No-wrong." "You made a point of this in your book. The Lost Jew. Is that correct?" "You can say what you want," Friedman said. "Hey, do you have anything stronger than wine?" By the time the recitation began, Friedman had had several drinks, and the writer read several longer nouns and foreign phrases—Chappaqua, Apres moi le deluge, Hadassah, L'chaim, challah, etc. When he was ambiguous, AJ thought it must be the reason.Some writers are not used to reading aloud.During the question-and-answer session, Friedman tried to keep his answers brief. Q: How did you feel when your wife died? A: Sad, very sad. Q: Which book is your favorite? A: The Bible, either, but probably the Bible. Q: You are younger than the picture. A: Hey, thank you! Q: What is it like to work in a newspaper office? A: My hands are always dirty. He's been more at ease when it comes to picking out the nicest hats and signings. AJ managed to get a lot of people to participate in the event, and the queue lined up outside the door of the bookstore. "You should put up fences like we did at Macy's," Friedman suggested. "In my line of work, fences are rarely needed," says AJ. In the end it was Amelia and her mother's turn to have the writer sign their book. "It was great meeting you," Amelia said. "My boyfriend and I probably wouldn't be together if it weren't for your book." AJ touches his engagement ring in his pocket.Is now the right time?No, too dramatic. "Give me a hug," Friedman told Amelia.She leaned over the table and AJ thought he saw the old gentleman looking down under Amelia's blouse. "That's the power of fiction over you," Friedman said. Amelia studied him. "I think so." She paused. "It's just not a novel, is it? It's a real story." "Yes, dear, of course," Friedman said. AJ chimed in: "Perhaps, Mr. Friedman was trying to say that this is the power of storytelling." Amelia’s mother — who is the size of a grasshopper and has the personality of a praying mantis — said: “Maybe Friedman was trying to say that a relationship based on liking a book isn’t much of a relationship. ' Amelia's mother held out her hand to Mr. Friedman. "Margaret Loman. My husband also died a few years ago. My daughter Amelia insisted that I read your book at the Charleston Widows Club. Everyone thought it was wonderful .” "Oh, that's great, really..." Friedman smiled brightly at Mrs. Loman. "real……" "What?" repeated Mrs. Loman. Freedman cleared his throat and wiped the sweat from his brow and nose.Blushing, he looks more Santa Claus than ever.He opened his mouth as if to speak, but vomited all over the stack of books he had just signed and Amelia's mother's beige Figgram espadrilles. "I seem to have had too much to drink," Friedman said.He hiccups. "Obviously," said Mrs. Loman. "Mom, AJ lives upstairs." Amelia pointed to the stairs for her mother to go up. "He lives above the bookstore?" Mrs. Loman asked. "You never mentioned this exciting..." At that moment Mrs. Loman slipped on the rapidly spreading puddle of vomit.She straightened up, but her encouraging-award hat was over. Friedman turned to AJ and said, "I'm sorry, sir. I seem to have had too much to drink. A cigarette and some fresh air can sometimes stop my nausea. If anyone can point out how to get out ..." AJ led Friedman out the back door. "What's wrong?" Maya asked.Not interested in what Friedman had to say, she turned her attention back to .She came over, came to the signing table, and when she saw the pile of vomit, she threw up herself. Amelia hurried to Maya. "Are you OK?" "I didn't expect to see that," Maya said. Meanwhile, in the alley next to the bookstore, Leon Freedman is throwing up again. "Do you think it might be food poisoning?" AJ asked. Friedman didn't answer. "Maybe it's because of the ferry ride? Or because of the excitement? It's hot?" AJ doesn't know why he feels the need to talk so much. "Maybe I can get you something to eat, Mr. Friedman?" "Do you have a lighter?" Friedman said hoarsely. "I forgot mine in my bag inside." AJ ran into the bookstore again.He couldn't find Friedman's bag. "I need a lighter!" he yelled.He rarely speaks out loud. "Please, can anyone who works here find me a lighter?" But people were gone, except for one clerk, who was busy at the checkout counter, and a few scattered customers left over from Friedman's book signing.A well-dressed woman of about Amelia's age opened her leather handbag, which held many things. "I might have one." AJ stood there, heartbroken, as the woman rummaged through her handbag, which was actually more of a duffle bag.He thought that was the reason why writers were not allowed to come to the bookstore.As a result, the woman found nothing. "I'm sorry," she said, "I quit smoking after my father died of emphysema, but I thought I still had my lighter." "No, it's okay. I have one upstairs." "Is there something wrong with that writer?" the woman asked. "Same as usual," AJ said, heading for the stairs. At his quarters, he found Maya alone, her eyes looking wet. "I threw up, Dad." "I'm sad." AJ found the lighter in the drawer.He slammed the drawer shut. "Where's Amelia?" "Are you asking?" Maya asked. "No, honey, not at this hour. I have to give a lighter to a drunk." She thought about it after hearing it. "Can I go with you?" she asked. AJ put the lighter in his pocket, and in order to hurry, he picked up Maya at once, but in fact she was already too tall to hug. They went downstairs, through the bookstore, to the outside where AJ had left Friedman.Friedman's head was enveloped in a cloud of smoke, and the pipe he dangled limply between his fingers made a strange sound of bubbling. "I can't find your bag," AJ said. "I carry it all the time," Friedman said. "What kind of pipe is that?" Maya asked. "I've never seen a pipe like that before." AJ's first reaction was to cover Maya's eyes, but he laughed again.Did Friedman fly with drug paraphernalia?He turned to his daughter and said, "Maya, do you remember Alice's Adventures in Wonderland we read last year?" "Where's Friedman?" Amelia asked. "Unconscious in the backseat of Ismay's utility vehicle," AJ replied. "Poor Ismay." "She's used to it. She's been Daniel Parrish's media escort for years." AJ grimaces. "I think it makes sense for me to go with them." The plan was for Ismay to drive Fried Mann went to take the ferry and then to the airport, but AJ couldn't just throw it all at his wife and sister. Amelia kissed him. "Good man. I'll take care of Maya and clean up the place," she said. "Thank you. But everything sucks," AJ said. "This is your last night here." "Well," she said, "at least it's memorable. Thank you for having Leon Friedman here, even though he's a little different than I thought he would be." "Just a little bit." He kissed Amelia, and then frowned again. "I thought it would be romantic, but I didn't expect it to be like this." "It's romantic. What's more romantic than a lecherous old drunk looking down my top?" "He's not just an alcoholic..." AJ imitated the habit of taking drugs. "Maybe he has cancer or something?" Amelia said. "Maybe……" "At least he made it through to the end of the event," she said. "I do think it made the event worse," AJ said. Ismay was honking the horn. "Call me," AJ said, "do you really have to spend the night with your mom in the hotel?" "I don't have to. I'm a grown man, AJ," Amelia said, "but we're going back to Providence early tomorrow." "I don't think I made a good impression on her," AJ said. "Nobody can," she said, "I wouldn't worry about that." "Well, wait until I get back, if you can." Ismay honked the horn again, and AJ ran towards the car. Amelia started cleaning out the bookstore, starting with the puddles and letting Maya clean up less disgusting clutter, like flower petals and plastic cups.The woman who didn't get the lighter out of her bag sat in the last row.She wore a floppy gray fedora and a long silk dress.Her clothes looked like they came from a thrift store, but Amelia, who actually shopped for clothes, could tell they were expensive. "Are you here for the recital?" Amelia asked. "Yes." said the woman. "What do you think?" Amelia asked. "He's very active," said the woman. "Yes, indeed." Amelia squeezed the water from the sponge into a bucket. "I can't say he's exactly what I expected him to be." "What do you expect?" the woman asked. "Someone more intellectual, I suppose. That sounds snobby. Maybe that's the wrong word. Maybe someone more wise." The woman nodded. "Yes, I can see that." "I probably expected too much. I work for his publisher. In fact, it's my favorite book ever sold." "Why is it your favorite?" the woman asked. "I..." Amelia looked at the man.She had kind eyes, and Amelia was often fooled by kind eyes. "I lost my father shortly before that, and I think there's something in that tone that reminds me of him. Plus, there's a lot of heart in the book." Amelia continued sweeping the floor. "Am I in your way?" the woman asked. "No, you're fine there." "Just sitting on the sidelines makes me feel bad," the woman said. "I like to sweep the floor, and you are so well dressed that it's not convenient to help." Amelia swept the floor rhythmically, and each stroke was long. "They made the publishers clean up after the recital?" the woman asked. Amelia laughed. "No, I'm still the girlfriend of the owner of this bookstore. I came here to help today." The woman nodded. "He must have liked this book so much that he invited Leon Friedman over after so many years." "Yeah." Amelia lowered her voice to a whisper. "He did it for me, actually. It's the first book we both liked." "So sweet. Like the first restaurant you went to together or the first song you danced to or something." "Exactly." "Maybe he's planning to propose to you?" the woman said. "I thought so." Amelia dumped the contents of the dustpan into the trash can. "Why do you think this book won't sell well?" the woman asked after a while. ""Late Evening Flowers"? Well... because the competition is fierce. Even if a book is very good, sometimes it will not sell well." "That must be cruel," the woman said. "Are you writing a book or something?" "I tried, yes." Amelia stopped what she was doing to look at the woman.She has long brown hair, carefully trimmed and very straight.Her handbags were probably as expensive as Amelia's car.Amelia held out her hand and introduced herself to the woman: "Amelia Loman." "Leonora Ferris." "Leonora, like Leon," Maya said aloud.She drank a milkshake and recovered by this time. "I'm Maya Fikri." "Are you from Alice Island?" Amelia asked Leonora. "No, I'm just here today. For this reading." Leonora stood up, and Amelia folded the chair she was sitting in against the wall. "You'll love this book, too," said Amelia, "like I said, my boyfriend lives here, and my experience is that Alice Island isn't the easiest place in the world to get to. place." "No, no," said Leonora, picking up her handbag. Suddenly, Amelia thought of something.She turned and said loudly, "No one travels aimlessly. Those who get lost hope to get lost." "You're quoting from Late Blossoms," said Leonora, after a long pause. "It's certainly your favorite book." "Indeed," said Amelia, "'I never felt young when I was young' and that sort of thing. Do you remember the second part of that line?" "Don't remember," Leonora said. "Writers don't remember everything they write," Amelia said. "How can they remember everything?" "It was a pleasure chatting with you." Leonora started to walk towards the door. Amelia puts her hand on Leonora's shoulder. "You're him, aren't you?" Amelia said. "You're Leon Friedman." Leonora shook her head. "Not all." "how do I say this?" "A long time ago, there was a girl who wrote a novel. She tried to sell it, but no one wanted it. It was about an old man who lost his wife. There were no supernatural creatures in it, and there was nothing in it. It’s a high-level concept. So she figured if she changed the title of the book and called it a memoir, maybe it would be easier to sell.” "That...that...isn't right," Amelia stammered. "No, there's nothing wrong with that. Everything in it isn't necessarily true, but emotionally true." "So, who is that person?" "I called a casting agency. He usually plays Santa Claus." Amelia shook her head. "I don't understand. Why do you have this reading? Why do you have to spend so much money and go through so much trouble? Why take the risk?" "That book has failed. Sometimes you just want to know ... to see for yourself that your work means something to someone." Amelia looked at Leonora. "I kind of felt fooled," she said finally. "You're a pretty good writer, you know that?" "I do know," said Leonora. Leonora Ferris disappeared down the street, and Amelia walked back to the bookstore. Maya told her, "It's been a weird day." "I agree with that." "Who's that woman, Amy?" Maya asked. "It's a long story," Amelia told her. Maya made a face. "She's a distant relative of Mr. Friedman," said Amelia. Amelia put Maya to bed, poured herself a glass of wine, and debated whether to tell AJ about Leonora Ferris.She didn't want to discourage him from hosting an event for authors, and she didn't want to look stupid or unprofessional in his eyes: She sold him a book, which she now revealed was a fake.Maybe Leonora Ferriss is right, and maybe it doesn't matter if the book is strictly true.She recalls a seminar in her sophomore literary theory class. "What is real?" the teacher would ask them. “Is the memoir constructed anyway?” She would always fall asleep in the class, which was embarrassing because there were only nine people taking the class.这么多年之后，阿米莉娅发现自己仍然会不由自主想起那件事。 十点过后不久，AJ回到住处。“送得怎么样？”阿米莉娅问。 “我只能说，最好的一点是弗里德曼大部分时间都不省人事。我花了二十分钟时间清洁伊斯梅的后座。”AJ汇报道。 “嗯，我可真的是盼望你的下次作家活动啊，费克里先生。”阿米莉娅说。 “有那么一败涂地吗？” “没有，我想事实上每个人都过得很开心。而且书店的确卖了不少书。”阿米莉娅站起身要走。她这时不走的话，就会忍不住要告诉AJ关于利昂诺拉·费里斯的事。“我该回旅馆了。因为我们明天走得很早。” “不，等一下。再待一会儿吧。”AJ摸索口袋里的首饰盒。他不想夏天过完都没有向她求婚，管它结果如何。他就要错过时机了。他突然从口袋里掏出那个盒子扔给她。“快点考虑。”他说。 “什么？”她说着转过身。那个首饰盒“啪”的一声打在她额头中央。“噢，见鬼，AJ？” “我是想让你别走。我以为你能接住。对不起。”他走到她跟前，吻她的额头。 “你扔得有点高了。” “你比我高。我有时候对高多少估多了。” 她从地板上捡起那个盒子，打开。 “是给你的，”AJ说，“是……”他单膝跪下，两只手攥着她的手，想避免感觉假惺惺的，不要像一出戏里的演员。“我们结婚吧。”他说，带着几乎是痛苦的表情，“我知道我被困在这个岛上，我穷，是个单身父亲，做生意的收入越来越少。我知道你妈妈讨厌我，在主持作家活动这方面显然我表现糟糕。” “这样求婚挺怪的，”她说，“先说你的强项嘛，AJ。” “我只能说……我只能说我们会找到解决办法的，我发誓。当我读一本书时，我想让你也同时读。我想知道阿米莉娅对这本书有什么看法。我想让你成为我的。我可以向你保证有书、有交流，还有我的全心全意，艾米。” 她知道他说的是真心话。因为他说的那些原因，他跟她（说起来是跟任何人）特别不相称。出差会累死人的。这个男人，这位AJ，容易发火，爱争论。他自以为从来不会错。也许他的确从来没有错过。 但是他出过错。一贯正确的AJ没有发觉利昂·弗里德曼是个冒牌货。她拿不准为什么这一点此时是重要的，但的确是。也许证明了他身上有男孩子气和妄想的一面。她仰起头。我会保守这个秘密，因为我爱你。就像利昂·弗里德曼（利昂诺拉·费里斯？）曾写过的：“好的婚姻，至少有一部分是阴谋。” 她皱起眉头，AJ以为她要拒绝。“好人难寻。”她终于说。 “你指的是弗兰纳里·奥康纳的短篇？你书桌上的那本？在这种时候提到它，是件特别黑暗的事。” “不，我是指你。我始终都在寻找。不过是两趟火车、一趟船的距离。” “你开车的话，可以少坐点火车。”AJ告诉她。 “你又懂什么开车的事？”阿米莉娅问。 第二年秋天，就在树叶变黄后不久，阿米莉娅和AJ结婚了。 兰比亚斯的妈妈——作为他的女伴，和他一起参加婚礼——对她的儿子说：“凡是婚礼我都喜欢，但是当两个真正长大的人决定结婚时，这不是尤其让人高兴吗？”兰比亚斯的妈妈乐见自己的儿子哪天再婚。 “我懂你的意思，妈。他们看来不像是闭着眼睛结婚的，”兰比亚斯说，“AJ知道阿米莉娅不是十全十美，阿米莉娅也知道AJ绝对不是十全十美，他们知道世界上没有十全十美这种事。” 玛雅选择了保管戒指，因为这项工作比当花童的责任更大。“要是你把花丢了，你可以再拿另一束，”玛雅如是陈述理由，“要是你把戒指丢了，所有人都会永远悲伤。保管戒指的人责任要大得多。” “说得好像你是咕噜。”AJ说。 “谁是咕噜？”玛雅想知道。 “你爸爸喜欢的一个呆头呆脑的人。”阿米莉娅说。 婚礼前夕，阿米莉娅送了玛雅一件礼物：一小盒上面有“玛雅·帖木儿·费克里藏书”字样的藏书票。在她人生的这个阶段，玛雅喜欢上面有她名字的东西。 “我挺高兴我们要成一家人了，”阿米莉娅说，“我很喜欢你，玛雅。” 玛雅在忙着把她的第一张藏书票贴到她正在读的一本书上：《令人惊讶的屋大维》。“是啊，”她说，“哦，等一下。”她从口袋里掏出一瓶橘黄色指甲油，“送给你的。” “我没有橘黄色的呢，”艾米说。 "Thank you." “我知道，所以我选了这瓶。” 艾米把瓶子翻过来看瓶底的字。“好人难寻”。 AJ提议过邀请利昂·弗里德曼来参加婚礼，阿米莉娅拒绝了。但他们的确商量好让阿米莉娅大学时的一位朋友在婚礼上读《迟暮花开》中的一段。 “因为从心底害怕自己不值得被爱，我们独来独往，”那一段是这样的，“然而就是因为独来独往，才让我们以为自己不值得被爱。有一天，你不知道是什么时候，你会驱车上路。有一天，你不知道是什么时候，你会遇到他（她）。你会被爱，因为你今生第一次真正不再孤单。你会选择不再孤单下去。” 阿米莉娅其他的大学朋友都不认识读这一段的那个女人，但她们谁都没有感到特别古怪。瓦萨学院虽小，但当然也不是那种小到谁都认识谁的地方，而且在跟各种社交圈子里的人交朋友这方面，阿米莉娅自有一套。