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She was new in town, this pretty girl that had caught your eye in the marketplace. You had gone out to purchase some bread and eggs from the local vendors, enough food for the next couple of days, when you first noticed her. She was perusing the wares of a traveling merchant, especially interested in the pocket watches.
You had never seen anyone so beautiful, and your jaw dropped a little as she pointed out a specific watch and asked questions of the merchant.
“_____? Oh, _____? Are you still interested, lad?”
“Sorry,” you said, turning back to the baker. “I’ve had a lot of things on my mind recently.” You chose your loaves of bread and gave him his payment.
“Like that mademoiselle over there? Her name is Belle. Quite fitting, if you ask me — just moved into town with her father, this crazy inventor. She’s a strange one, though, I warn you. Not at all interested in lads or dresses, instead spouting all these silly ideas. I would stay away from her if I were you.”
“Thanks for the advice,” you said, absentmindedly. You had no intention of following it. As you made your way to the traveling merchant’s cart, you bumped into a passerby — “Watch it!” he said — and you dropped your satchel, coins spilling out of them, rolling into the streets.
He left before you could even apologize.
You sighed, sinking to the ground to collect your money, when a shadow was cast over you.
It was Belle. “Oh, goodness,” she said, setting down her basket. “Let me help you.”
“T-thank you,” you said as she found and placed the final coin in your hand. She was even prettier up close.
“What do you have there?”
“Just a couple of loaves of bread, a dozen eggs—”
“No, no,” she said with a laugh, her free hand pressed lightly against her lips. “I meant what you have under your arm. It’s a book, isn’t it?”
You had no idea you would be interested in such things. The people of this town generally weren’t enamored with books and education. Life was difficult enough as it was for some, make sure that bellies were filled, floors were swept, fires were lit.
“It is,” you said, handing it to her. “It’s just some old poetry, you know. Boring stuff.”
Belle flipped through the pages, coming to a bookmarked poem. “You can’t possibly find this boring. Poetry is wonderful. Some of the poems I’ve read are beautifully crafted.”
“I guess I meant that for most people. I wasn’t sure you’d find it to your liking.”
“Of course I do. I love books of all kinds, especially ones that tell stories. Poetry tells stories in the most creative ways sometimes, able to convey emotion and purpose in a nontraditional format.”
You liked her more and more. “I hear you’re new in town. I don’t believe I’ve seen you in my bookshop.”
“You own a bookshop?” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I would love to see it. I have to return home to my father to deliver a package, but I can come by tomorrow. Where is it?”
“It’s on Birch Street,” you said, “directly across the bridge. There’s a sign — _____’s Books — so you can’t miss it.”
“You must be _____, then,” she said. “Pleasure to meet you, monsieur. I’m Belle.”
“The pleasure’s all mine.” You accepted her hand, gracing it with a small kiss as was custom. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, mademoiselle.”
She waved goodbye and started off, a bounce in her step. How fortunate it was for the two of you to have met today.
In the morning, you organized your bookshop, making sure there was no empty space on the shelves. You dusted all of your store furniture, aged and worn as it was. You put your very favorite books on display, hoping to create some conversation pieces.
Truthfully, you had few visitors come in to buy books. Instead, more commonly, you had illiterate townsfolk arrive to have you translate a letter or draft one of their own. It was unfortunate how many people did not know how to read — and for many of those who did, it was considered a chore or necessity and not a joy. You made enough of an income serving the town in this manner, but you did not have anyone with whom to share your love of books.
That was why meeting Belle yesterday was so exciting. Finally, you had someone you could talk to!
You waited all day. A couple of townsfolk came by with requests for letters, which you readily fulfilled for them in your elegant script. Of course, they left you with a few coins but did not comment at all on the wares in your shop.
Morning turned to afternoon, and the afternoon dragged on. You organized your bookshelves again to pass the time, perusing your wares and wondering which stories you’d like to share the most. Before you were about to close the shop for the day, you heard the bell ring at the door.
“You’re here,” you said. “The bell announces Mademoiselle Belle.”
She laughed at your joke. “Oh, of course I’m here. I’m so sorry I’m late. I had a few chores and errands I had to run, but I’ve been looking forward to this all day, monsieur.”
“R-really? Well, I’m glad to see you here. I don’t have many customers come by to peruse my books — they could certainly use the attention.” You gestured toward the depths of your shop. “Please, stay as long as you’d like.”
“I will, though I might have to borrow a few candles soon.”
Her words warmed your heart. “I have many candles available,” you said. “I enjoy reading by firelight. Here are a few of my favorites, if you’re interested, and if it gets too cold, I can always get a fire going.”
She was already looking through the shelves, helping herself to a book that piqued her curiosity. “There are so many titles here I’ve never seen. How wonderful it must be to be surrounded by such a diverse collection.”
“Many of them I’ve found over the years throughout my travels.”
“Why come to this town?”
“Well, I wanted the peace and quiet away from the bustling of the city. Still, there are a fair number of people here, and I thought I could interest them in the joy of books, but they’re pretty stuck in their ways.”
“My father came for the same reason. It’s an affordable place not too far from the city, and it’s peaceful here. I was afraid there wouldn’t be a library or bookshop at all when we moved here, but I’m so glad I bumped into you.”
“Ah, I share the same sentiment. Perhaps I’ll finally have a regular in here.”
“And I shall finally have a friend!”
“A friend?” If not for the dim light, she surely would have noticed you blushing. “I-I think that can be arranged.”
You both swapped favorite books for the evening, making recommendations and sharing tales, conversations that you wanted to have with someone for a long time.