The Accidental Florist

women, standing on the sidewalk outside. The bookstore owner was standing in the doorway and shook Jane’s hand and thanked Barbara for being a little early. “Jane, do you need a drink before your talk?“
    “Just a glass of water, please. “
    When she got inside, she was impressed that they had a huge poster on the wall with her picture and the cover of the book.
    “How did you do that?“ Jane asked.
    “I didn’t. Your publisher sent it last week. Stand to speak and I’ll be at your side to open the book to the page you want to sign. It moves things along a lot faster.“
    Jane, having never done a book signing, was surprised at how considerate this was. Or simply the norm?
    When the crowd outside found places around the room, the bookseller stood and introduced Jane. “She’s a brand-new author. And I’ve read her book already and enjoyed it enormously. She has a real gift for words. We can take a few questions, then we’ll get on with the signing.“
    The first person to put her hand up was a very young woman in dreadlocks and a big smile. “I already read your book as well. I wonder how you knew so much about the time you were writing in.“
    “I did a lot of research,“ Jane said with a grin and added, “I didn’t use anything but the most interesting things I discovered. I wanted it to be an historical mystery, not a textbook.“
    “Thank you, Ms. Jeffry. That’s good advice. I’m writing a novel myself,“ she said proudly before sitting down. “I wish you good luck,“ Jane said.
    The second question was about Jane’s background. “Have you always lived in Chicago?“
    “Only after I married. My dad is a diplomat with a gift for foreign languages and my parents always took us along to the countries where he was working. That’s why I’ve stayed where I lived in the same house for all these years.“
    “What’s your husband think of your book?“
    “My husband died in a car accident when our children were young. And I’m about to be married for the second time late this summer.“
    “Oh, how nice,“ the bookseller said. “Now we’ll start the signing. I’m glad we have such a crowd. My assistant has passed out little notes so you can spell your name for Jane. Or the name of whom you’re also buying a book for.“
    They both sat down at the table and the bookstore owner started opening the books to the title page.
    Jane took a mental count of how many she’d signed and by the time she was done, she estimated she’d sold thirty-seven.
    She stood back up, flexing the fingers of her right hand before shaking the bookseller’s hand and thanking her.
    “That’s almost a record,“ the bookstore owner said. “All too often, authors only sell ten or twenty. We’ve sold out all I ordered and I will order more today. You said all the right things to interest readers.“
    Barbara Smith was standing at the front of the store. She also thanked the bookseller.
    She opened the passenger door for Jane. “Your hand got quite a workout.“
    “I’m not used to handwriting anymore except to write checks,“ Jane said with a laugh.
    They stopped at a sub shop and bought one sandwich cut in half, two bags of chips and iced tea. When they arrived at the large suburban bookstore, Shelley was waiting just outside the door.
    “There’s a guest inside you won’t like.“
    “Not Thelma again?“
    “No, your soon to be mother-in-law.“
    “Oh dear. What’s she doing here? She lives in Atlanta.“
    “I have no idea. I just wanted to warn you.“
    The bookseller introduced herself and took Jane to the table at the back of the store. There was a big crowd. Jane spotted Addie in the back row and didn’t flinch. Addie was reading a local real estate flyer.
    Jane answered pretty much the same questions she’d been asked at the last signing. And the signing commenced pleasantly. When she left, the driver was in the car waiting in front. Jane whispered, “Lock all the doors, please.“
    Ms. Smith did so and looked at Jane questioningly.
    Addie came outside and tapped on Jane’s window. Jane rolled it halfway down and said, “Why are you here?“
    “I came up to book a hotel that could serve a dinner for four hundred and supply a dance floor.“
    “That’s not the way it works, Addie. It’s my choice of sites. And why four hundred people? I don’t even know two hundred people.“
    “We can talk about it in the car,“ Addie said, trying to get in the backseat and finding the door