Bookshop on Maple Street

Prologue

Celia

I always found love confusing. I've read hundreds of books ranging from knights in shining armour to men falling at their woman's feet to get them back after they messed up once or twice. I guess you learn with experience and time what love is truly like and believe me it's never like the books narrate. They say one kiss can make your knees buckle and make you forget your own name but surely that's all talk; I've never experienced it and I truly doubt that I ever will. Not now at least...with Dahlia gone there's no one to force me from my comfort zone and drag me out to the bars and clubs in the city, not that I was ever wanted to go but what choice did I have when she would push me out my door on a friday night? Dahlia was a sweet girl, my best friend in this miniscule town of Tintagel and even though it's only been two weeks, I miss seeing her sunny disposition at my mother's bakery on a fall day.  A pumpkin spice latte in one hand, a cinnamon roll in the other; with the icing all over her cheeks - clearly already having stuffed two down before I entered - with Dahlia Autumn gone I'm not sure how I'll manage. 

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of Dahlia Autumn, a wonderful woman who was taken from this world too soon..." Dahlia's mother is in the front row, right next to me, sobbing on my shoulder...losing your child is something no one should have to go through especially Katerina Autumn, a loving mother who doted on her childs every decision. I'm not sure what to do or even how to comfort her, I've always been the more emotional one in the family, the little sister. I put my arm around her shoulder and pass her another couple of tissues from my purse as the priest keeps on speaking. 

My father passed when I was little and I honestly don't remember it well. I remember two men dressed in the same uniform that Jake (my brother) wears and my mother sobbing on the ground. I remember attending his funeral and the wake afterwards but eight years old me didn't understand the concept of death yet or even how to process my father never coming home from his deployment. 

At the wake, I do whatever I can to help out Katerina. I plated up food, washed up dishes, comforted her father and spoke to her older brother; offering my sincerest condolences to both. Katerina was running herself ragged and I could tell she hadn't slept for the last three days so I pulled her aside gently and asked her nicely to go take a nap. She respectfully declined but I managed to convince her with the promise that my mother (Edith) and I will handle everything and make sure everyone got home okay. I knew I had to do something, anything to push aside the caping whole that is left in my heart now that Dahlia was gone. Just something, anything to honour her memory. She was my best friend since we were in nursery and I wouldn't let her fade away like some wasted memory.