with old history books, trying to decide whether I could afford one when a voice beside me said, “You keep touching that book like you’re waiting for someone to tell you that you’re allowed to buy it.”
I turned around.
An elegant woman stood there holding an umbrella.
She had silver hair tied neatly behind her shoulders, intelligent eyes, and a calm smile that made the crowded bookstore suddenly feel quiet.
I laughed awkwardly.
“I’m just deciding if it’s worth the money.”
She looked at the book.
Then she looked at me.
“Sometimes the things that change your life are the things you hesitate to buy.”
I smiled.
“I didn’t know books came with life advice.”
“They don’t,” she replied. “People do.”
That was the first time Eleanor made me feel like I was having a conversation with someone who actually saw me.
Not my job.
Not my bank account.
