Chapter Text
”Don’t cry…Shopgirl. Don’t cry.”
She shakes her head, sniffs. “I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly.”
*****
Her lips are soft, she smells of cinnamon and vanilla. The tears that had threatened to escape her eyes finally do so, and he tastes salt as he kisses her gently.
The dog jumps on him. Not ideal.
Anyway.
Pulling away, he sees the battle of relief and shock play out on her face.
“How…?” She can’t find the words. “When did-”
“That night at the coffee shop,” he admits, the weight of his secret instantly lifting from his shoulders. “I was with my friend and he…he looked through the window to see if he could see her - well, you. And, uh…I didn’t know what to do, honestly. I was gonna bail.” At this, she rolls her eyes, but amusement tugs at her lips. “I mean, I guess to you, I did bail…” He shrugs. “But I couldn’t just totally bail, you know. I couldn’t help but want to talk to you.”
She sobers and looks at him coldly. “You lied to me.”
The hands he’d placed on her waist move up her arms, one hand softly cupping her cheek. “I’m sorry. I was going out of my head, realising it was you.” What else can he say? It’s true. His eyes search her face, as if he’ll find the words he’s searching for in her features. “I mean, it was just bizarre. It was like that part in The Godfather when- actually, never mind.”
“Mm,” she agrees with his abandoning that particular topic.
He holds her firmly by the shoulders as if to convey the severity of his apology, and she can’t help but be drawn into his piercing green eyes. “Look,” he says, “I didn’t know what to expect when I walked down there that night to meet you. And then, learning that the person who hates me possibly more than anyone in all the world is, in fact, the woman that I…”
“That you…?”
He sheds his momentary hesitation. He’s not scared or embarrassed; he’s almost defiant. He squares his shoulders. “That I love…I’m in love with you, Kathleen. I-I’m sorry to put it so bluntly and I’m sure it doesn’t compare to whatever confession you’ve read in Pride and Prejudice o-or Wuthering Heights or something, but I’ve always found it best to speak my mind and-”
“Oh, I’m aware of that,” she laughs.
“Okay, I asked for that one.” He smiles in spite of himself. “And until that night, I was honestly pretty confused, and I wasn’t even sure whether it was you or the…mystery internet-girl out there in the ether that I was falling in love with, or maybe it was both…but when I saw you there and realised it was you I’d been speaking to all those months, it was so obvious. It made sense why I couldn’t choose, because both of those people were you. And I knew right then that I had a chance, I guess - some extraordinarily rare, lucky chance to help this become more than it was. To help you get to know the real me…even if I had to throw NY152 under the bus to do it.”
She stares at him, somewhat incredulous. It’s not that she doesn’t believe him; she is just struggling to reconcile flippant, cocky, forthright Joe Fox she had first met with the sensitive, witty, intelligent, sweet man she knows his online persona to be. But, despite her confused and newly guarded heart, she knows that Joe is telling the truth. In reality, the past few weeks getting to know Joe properly, and the conversation they had this afternoon on the sidewalk before she had to leave, solidified something inside of her: she really had wanted NY152 to be Joe Fox. What a conflicting realisation that had been! And then what a joy to discover that that had been the case all along. He’d said it was so obvious once he discovered it, and now she felt the exact same way.
Kathleen comes back to herself, looking up at him in mock austerity, “Well, I’ll have you know that NY152 is a lovely man and I just hope he can forgive you.”
A smile tugs at Joe’s lips. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll come around.” He leans to kiss her again, and she happily complies, before he places a gentle hand on her lower back. “Let’s walk.”
*****
They find themselves in a tiny coffee shop a block away, Kathleen immediately stunned she’s never heard of it before. It’s quaint, with no more than five or six tables crammed into a space she isn’t sure is a legal size for a café, and they sit at a table in the corner - Brinkley awkwardly curled on the floor - amidst a jumble of boxes and bookshelves containing - yes, books - but also plants, CDs, odd little ornaments and trinkets, lamps, and other paraphernalia that give the whole place a twinkly, magical feel (not unlike a certain store she’s recently absented).
It makes Kathleen feel comfortable to be in a familiar environment, and Joe smiles to see her growing warmer and more open by the minute.
Despite the season, the café makes to two of them feel autumnal and cosy, and so she orders a cinnamon mocha and he, a spiced cappuccino.
“Can’t believe I’ve never been here before!” Kathleen smiles as Joe returns with their drinks, putting an arm around Kathleen, who happily leans into his side.
“I thought of you the first time I came here,” he confides quietly.
“Really?” Her face lights up, making his heart soar. What a privilege to be the man that can make her so happy with just a few words. To see that ready smile and those bright eyes made him feel like the luckiest person alive.
He nods. “I stumbled across it a few months ago. I was headed somewhere else, but I had such a hankering I ducked in here for an espresso. Great coffee - try it.”
She does so, savouring the taste (“Mmm!”), but then pins him with a suspicious look: “Wait, when you say this place reminded you of me, do you mean me me, or Shopgirl?”
He ponders this a moment. “Both, I guess,” and on seeing her doubtful smirk: “No, it’s true! You know, the books, the general…fall feel made me think of Shopgirl, but then the staff are so friendly, and the colours, even the furniture in a way, reminded me of you and your store and…I don’t know, it was almost like I could picture you working here.”
“Me?”
“Uh-huh. A little side-business to the bookstore? Just struck me when I first walked in here.” He sips his cappuccino.
“Well, when was that?”
“Around Christmastime.”
She relaxes back into her seat, picturing the image he’s conjured up. “Oh, I would love to see this place at Christmas.”
“Well, I hope you can wait eight months,” he chuckles, planting a kiss on her cheek that makes her stomach swoop: it’s all still so surprising and new, and as a classic hopeless romantic, the small gesture means more to Kathleen than Joe probably understands right now.
They enjoy their coffee. They hold hands. They kiss. This afternoon - the park, the walk along the city streets, the café - has been the perfect little bubble from within which to start their relationship.
It occurs to both of them just about now that they are the only two people in the world who know about it all. Of course, friends know about their online dalliance, or their real-life rivalry, or both, but no one except Kathleen and Joe know that they met in the park this afternoon, that Joe confessed and swept Kathleen off her feet. It’s just the two of them, standing alone on a shore at dawn, rowing off into the horizon together without another other soul awake.
Joe watches Kathleen enjoy the last sip of her mocha, eyes closed and licking her lips, and he looks down at where they hold hands, stroking hers gently with his thumb. He worries his lip. “I am sorry, Kathleen.”
“Hmm?” She looks up, her cinnamon-induced trance breaking.
“For your business.” He looks positively heartbroken - which only makes Kathleen feel worse than she already has been. As if losing the store weren’t enough to contend with, she now has to field Joe’s guilt. She can practically feel it radiating off of him.
She tries to bat away his confession, but he doesn’t relent. “No, it needs to be said. I’m sure you’ve had plenty of time to think it over, and obviously you’ve found some way to be okay with everything, or we wouldn’t be here right now, but I want to apologise. Really-”
“Joe, honey, it’s really okay! I don’t want you to feel-”
“Bad? Well, I do, because you were right…it wasn’t personal to me. Even though I knew what that store meant to you, I was completely cruel. I never should’ve-“
“But what could you have done?” Her hand comes up to hold his cheek, his hand meeting her. His eyes bore into hers, almost tearful, heavy with regret. “Joe, it’s okay,” she reiterates.
“It’s not,” he whispers, kissing her palm. “I know I couldn’t have done much, I mean my father and grandfather would’ve never heard a word about it if I’d come to them with some bleeding heart about the bookstore of a woman I barely knew, but that didn’t mean I had to be so callous and-”
“Stop. Joe, stop.” Her voice is stern. He likes it.
Not the time, Joe. Focus.
Kathleen sighs. “It happened, okay? And you may not believe me - I don’t know, at times I may not believe myself - but right now, I’m fine. I appreciate your apology, but like you said, I really have made peace with it. That bookstore being built on my street was put into motion months and months ago and you never would’ve been able to come up with a solution that could’ve stopped it. That’s a lot of olive oil to pour down the drain.” She flashes him a wicked smirk.
“Stop,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down his face. “I just feel like such an asshole!”
“Oh, no, you were. Definitely,” she laughs, “and that is one searing remark I will not apologise for.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to.”
She grins. “No, I think it was time. I mean, I love what I do, I love working with kids and inspiring them to read, but there was only so much I could do from behind that desk.” She turns his hands over in hers, seemingly studying them as she finds her words. “I think I was so determined to keep my mother’s memory alive that I forgot there isn’t just one way to do that. Maybe now, I can do something that honours her but also works best for me.”
He’s somewhat surprised, but nods. “Well, I gotta say I’m impressed by how well you’ve bounced back. I was worried that my cold, unfeeling heart had jaded you forever.” He gives her a wink.
“Not possible - I’m a hopeless optimist!”
She leans down to give Brinkley a pat: he’s getting restless under the table. Squeezing into cafés of this size is not his idea of a good time.
Joe sighs. “I’m just sorry that, at least for a while there, I became someone in your life who brought out the worst in you, instead of helping you be your best. I managed to take a bright, beautiful woman and turn her into-”
“A bitch?”
“Hey, your word, not mine. I should’ve been trying to help you out, or at least I should’ve had some more class about the whole thing…”
“I know. But you changed, and I changed because of that. Seriously, these last few weeks, you coming to my house - the daisies. Running in - well, I guess you weren’t really running into me as it turns out, but all the time we spent together - you telling me about yourself and taking a real interest in me, us just talking and laughing…oh, that time we shared your umbrella?”
“Yeah, I remember that,” he answers, smiling as the memory unfurls. Streetlights hazy from the downpour, rain making the black roads look like ink, music drifting out of a window and surrounding them, Kathleen’s face so close to his he could hardly breathe…
Kathleen sighs happily, resting her head on his shoulder. “These past weeks have been so important to me, you see? That’s how I started to make peace with it all. I saw that you weren’t just some egotistical guy who had to conquer every store he saw or win every argument. Once that dropped away, you were kind, and you cared. You cared about me. I went from hiding from you in the grocery store to looking out for you in the street; having to stop myself smiling when I saw you! So much so that by the time I saw you you today in the park - or, rather, heard you calling Brinkley,” - at the sound of his name Brinkley sits and plops his head in Kathleen’s lap, drawing from her the most enchanting laugh Joe has ever heard - “by then, I was ready to forgive you completely. I guess I already had.”
Joe kisses the top of her head and looks down on her. “You mean it?”
She smiles and kisses him on the lips. “I know the real you now, Joe. That’s why I wished so badly for it to be you today. And I got my wish.”
“So did I.”