gasping for breath, my heart thudding. Mom and Mo slept soundly, but I was done sleeping for the night.
CHAPTER 9
“How about we go into town for a while?” Mo asked the next morning. “Get some food, look around.”
Mom was less upset than she’d been the night before but I still sensed that she was on edge.
“Y’all wanna go right now?” I asked. I’d spent my sleepless night thinking about what was behind that gate. I wanted to get back out there.
“Yeah,” said Mo. “Come on. If we’re gonna stay the summer we need to see what else this place has to offer, because mouse turds and dust bunnies is not gonna do it for your mama.”
“Damn right it’s not,” said Mom, smiling. “I need food. I’m starving.”
I got dressed and followed Mom and Mo out to the car. I glanced back at the house and the grounds beyond. Whatever was behind the gate would have to wait a little longer.
We drove into town and Mom parked the car on a side street. We walked over to the main road that ran through the center of Rhinebeck. Shops and restaurants lined Market Street on both sides. People walked together, sipping iced drinks and holding hands.
“This is so . . .” Mo searched for the right words to describe it.
“Quaint?” Mom offered.
Mo’s eyebrow shot up. “I was gonna say white but I guess quaint works too.”
We stopped in front of a shop whose display window was crammed with all kinds of candles. The smell that wafted out made my eyes water.
“Ooh!” Mom’s face lit up. “Let’s go in here. I love smelly-good stuff.”
Mo looked like she was going to throw up. I scanned the shops, looking for an excuse to get out of going inside. Across the street was a small bookshop with a sign in the window that said Buy One Get One Free.
“I’m gonna go check out the bookstore,” I said.
“Sure, baby,” Mom said as she hooked her arm under Mo’s. “I’ll text you when we’re done so we can figure out where we’re gonna eat.” They disappeared into the candle shop.
My phone buzzed as I crossed the street. I took it out of my pocket and checked the text.
Mo: How dare you
She was staring out the front window of the candle shop, a pained look on her face. I shot her a grin.
An older woman in an orange apron walked up to Mo and handed her a basket. Mo nodded and waved me on. The woman followed her gaze and as she made eye contact with me, she did a double take. Her eyes grew wide with what I could only figure was shock, and then she smiled the cheesiest grin I’d ever seen.
Manically grinning ladies, old dudes with machetes in the woods, and strangers in the driveway—I was starting to understand what Mrs. Redmond and Dr. Grant were hinting at. Some of the people in Rhinebeck were clearly on some other shit. I turned and hurried toward the bookshop.
Almost every single shop I passed had potted plants outside or hanging from their awnings, and I could feel them rustling in their containers as I went by. Maple trees rooted in squares of dirt dotted the sidewalk for as far as I could see. Ignore. Breathe. I couldn’t stretch here, not out in the open.
The bookshop sat tucked between a tailor’s shop and a pharmacy, the door propped open with a half-dead cactus. As I went in, it greened up and stretched toward me. I nudged the container away from the door and let it clang shut behind me.
Dust floated in the shafts of sunlight shining through the shop window. As I wandered through the closely fitted stacks, the musty smell of books, most of them more than gently used, stuck in my nose. I spotted a stack of old Audubon field guides in a plastic crate on the floor. Priced at $2.50 each, they were in perfect condition. The pictures were still bright and I’d always loved the rainbow-colored covers.
A huge crash suddenly rattled the shop. I spun around to see a young guy, probably my age, sprawled on the floor. A stack of books he’d been holding lay scattered around him like fallen leaves.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I took ahold of his arm and helped pull him to his feet.
“Yeah,” he said, avoiding eye contact as he brushed himself off. Embarrassment radiated from him like heat from the sun. I picked up a few of