It’s In The Pages

(this piece was originally written to be a part of a competition, but upon learning that I had to pay to enter, I decided to just drop the story here)

I was sitting at Al’s diner flipping through want ads on my phone, my hand resting protectively on my little black book.

That little black book meant everything to me. It was my 24th little black book in fact. I’d been keeping notes and records in one since I was ten years old. I got the first one on my tenth birthday from my mom. She raised me alone, my dad was “a passing ship in the night”, she called him. She passed away four years ago, but the books just keep coming. It warms my soul every birthday to receive it. Moleskine was the brand, which was pretty nice, but it was the fact that it came every year from my mom that was the most endearing part. She was always with me in those little black books.

This book was a little beat up from all the love, wear and tear, but my birthday was right around the corner and I knew another would be forthcoming.

I finished my tea and strudel gathered my belongings, stuffed them in my purse, put on my mask and got to my feet. I waved down the waitress and met her at the cash register.

“Hey Lisa, how’s job hunting going?” Sabrina, the waitress, asked me. She was a woman that you knew was once beautiful, but age had dulled her hair and softened the features behind her mask.

“Crummy.” I responded. “I don’t think I’m ever going to find work. Especially during a pandemic. One cannot live on government subsidy alone.

“I hear ya. And there’s another lockdown happening next week.” Sabrina clucked her tongue in warning.

“I knew it was coming. I should be at home, but I needed some company, even if it was just you whooshing by me now and then.” I said paying my bill.

Sabrina took my cash and gave me change, which I promptly plopped into the tip jar, “You’re a pleasure to whoosh by, hun.”

We said goodbye and I headed home. It wasn’t a long walk, which was a good thing because it was a chilly December 29th.

It was later that evening that I would discover my little black book had not made it home with me! I felt a surge of panic go through me.

“Relax,’ I said to myself. “Sabrina probably already has it safe in the back. Just call her to verify, and you can pick it up tomorrow.”

So, I called and was devastated to learn I had NOT dropped my book at Al’s diner! This was AWFUL! A tragedy of epic proportions!

I pulled apart my front hallway in case I had dropped it somewhere there. No success. Next, I bundled and masked up then headed outside, scouring the walk way for some sign of my book. I must have searched for two hours up and down the route I take to Al’s, but the book simply wasn’t there. I sat down on a curb and burst into tears.

While crying, my phone rang. I let it go to voicemail. It rang again. I let it go to voicemail. However, upon the third ring I answered it, in case there was an emergency I was missing.

“Hello.” I said, trying and failing, to keep despair out of my voice.

“Is this Lisa Nicole?” a very kind, warm woman’s voice responded.

“Yes. How can I help you?” I forced myself to smile under my mask

“Is that you? Across the street on the curb?” she asked.

That surprised me. I looked up and around and saw a very classy looking older woman looking back at me. She was on the phone. She waved. I waved back.

“Umm…” was all I said, when the phone clicked off. The woman across the street headed toward me. I slid my phone into my purse and got to my feet as she stood before me. Her mask was black with bright red roses stitched into the material. “I love your mask.”

She nodded, “My daughter made it for me. Now, I think I have something that belongs to you.” she pulled my little black book from her bag.

“YAY!” I said and snatched it from her hand. I hugged it to my chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!”

“I could tell it was missed.” she said. “My name is Barb and I hope you don’t mind, but I read every word of that little black book.”

I blushed, “Oh, yes, it’s not really a diary, it’s fine. It’s like… pieces of things I think about.”

Barb glanced at the book in my hands. “It’s extraordinarily interesting, I couldn’t put it down. But, what interested me the most is… in this book you said you had others like it?

I nodded, “Oh yes, 23 previous books and all of them are filled.”

“How would you be interested in working with me on getting your black books read by the world?” Barb asked me.

I stared at her in total dumbfoundment. “My… books… what?” I asked bewildered.

“Lisa, there is a realness in your writing that I think people would really like. You ask yourself those tough questions and it’s fascinating to read you chew through logical arguments versus emotional desires.” Barb said very matter of factly.

“Oh, well… that’s good.” I cocked my head to one side. “You really think people would want to read the madness in my black books?”

“So much so, that I’d be willing to pay you to do it.” Barg said with a smirk.

“You… you would?” I asked in absolute shock.

“Yes, $5000 now, $5000 upon our first review and $10,000 once it’s ready to print. Plus, a small percentage of the royalties.” Barb said.

“What? But, why would you want to do that? You don’t know me!” I asked, baffled.

“No, but I recognize what’s good. I wouldn’t be one of the top publishing companies in Canada if I couldn’t recognize what’s good.” Barb chuckled.

“Oh! You’re THAT Barb! I had no idea. I… wait, did you just offer me $20,000 for my books?” I said, my mind now truly boggled.

Barb laughed, “I did, and I offered royalties too. Because I think your books are gonna sell well for a long time. I’ll have my lawyer draft up some contracts tomorrow.” she pulled a very similar little black book from her purse and began writing in it.

“Ha! Great minds!” I said, nodding to her book.

“Indeed.” she finished taking her note, then put the book back in her bag. “I’d shake your hand, but…”

I nodded, “Pandemic.” I gave an awkward little curtsy. Barb’s eyes crinkled, clearly delighted. “I guess I’ll go home and start going through my books.” Barb and I said our goodbyes and I walked home feeling better than I had in years.

“Thanks mom.”