Page 31 of Safe With You

Mrs. Williams laughing with the man sitting beside her over coffee.

The little girl proudly holding four picture books instead of three.

Luna, caught completely off guard, smiling at something a customer had said while carrying a stack of empty mugs back toward the café.

She hadn’t been looking at the camera.

She hadn’t been posing.

She’d simply been herself.

For reasons I couldn’t quite explain, it was my favorite photograph of the night.

I looked up just in time to see Luna thanking the last few guests as they made their way toward the door. She looked tired, but there was something deeply satisfying about the smile she wore now. It was the kind that only came after watching weeks of planning become an evening worth remembering.

I lowered the camera just as the bell above the front door chimed one last time.

“Drive safe!” Luna called after the final customer, waiting until the door closed behind them before reaching up to flip the sign from OPEN to CLOSED.

The bookstore settled into a silence that felt different from the one before the event had started. This one wasn’t filled with anticipation anymore. It was the quiet contentment that only followed a night well spent.

Luna rested both hands on the edge of the front counter and let out a long breath. She closed her eyes for just a second before a small smile found its way onto her face.

It was the kind of smile that came after realizing something had gone exactly the way you hoped it would.

I lifted my camera.

Click.

The bookstore always felt different after an open mic night.

The conversations were over, but traces of them still lingered between the shelves. Empty coffee mugs sat forgotten on end tables, programs peeked out from beneath chairs, and the smell of espresso still hung in the air, softened by old books and the vanilla candles we’d lit before guests arrived. It was quieter now, but not empty. It felt full in a different way, as if the walls had absorbed every laugh, every poem, every story someone had been brave enough to share.

I stood behind the counter for a moment longer than I needed to, glancing over the attendance sheet before setting it aside. My feet ached, my shoulders were beginning to protest, and I was almost positive I’d survive the rest of the week on coffee alone, but as I looked around the bookstore, I couldn’t stop smiling.

We’d done it.

First Open mic in the books.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Naomi’s voice floated across the room just as I reached for a stack of abandoned programs.

I looked over my shoulder.

“What?”

“I know that look.”

“What look?”

“The one where you convince yourself you’ll ‘clean up one little thing,’ and forty-five minutes later you’re reorganizing the entire poetry section.”

“I would never.”

She laughed loud enough that Maya looked up from the café sink.

“Luna Bennett, you are a terrible liar.”