December 27, 1960
A small bookstore in Residential Wizarding London
continued from here It wasn't easy, but they made it work.
Adam pulled together enough money for a Christmas dinner for Martina, Bea, and himself, and it was the best meal he had eaten in a long time. He slept on the sofa and gave his aunt the bed, as he had promised to himself he would. It was no great tragedy; he'd spent plenty of nights, some more sleepless than others, on sofas and armchairs in the Ravenclaw common room. And it was worth it for the days with the three of them together, talking and smiling and
laughing. It wasn’t something he did much back in his school days, but things were better now.
It got better.
Martina Wells was not the same woman she was before the summer of 1953. He had not expected her to be. He could not expect every memory to be perfect, everything to be perfectly intact, and not so long ago, he could never dream that anything close was even a possibility. No, she couldn’t tell the stories of her travels in perfect detail as she always had to attempt to send him into a peaceful sleep. No, she didn’t remember all of Louise Hoying’s tidbits of wisdom or the exact way her apple pie tasted. No, she didn’t remember John Hoying’s booming laugh or the sound of his drumming in the early mornings when she came to New York to visit.
But then again, neither did he, not as much as he once did. Time was a strange thing, corrupting the minds and memories of all who fell victim to it. The universe could put one in the wrong place at the wrong time...but it could also allow one to recover from those unfortunate circumstances. It wasn’t to the same degree, but then again, what could ever be? Adam Hoying had learned that change was inevitable and undeniable in any circumstance. As much as he wished he could avoid or escape change, it came for everyone in the end. For most of his life, he feared it;
change for Adam usually meant things got
worse.
But he was learning now that it could get better. Martina Wells laughed and spoke like she used to. She moved her limbs restlessly as she spoke, always eager to wander even when it might not be in her cards, and her eyes lit up when he told her about something he loved. It was not the same, but it was
good.
And so, at twenty-two years old, Adam John Hoying learned to accept change.
“And this is the children’s aisle, and the fantasy books are over there.” Showing two of his favorite people the little bookstore he worked at (he had a
job, like a proper functioning adult!) was certainly a change - one he quite liked. Bea quickly found a book and retreated to the reading nook in the corner once he finished his tour (not much of one - it was small but cozy, which was why he liked it so much), but his aunt stayed by his side. She had barely left it in the past couple days - perhaps still getting used to the fact that they were truly together again.
He smiled directly at her; she used to be taller than him, but now, even with his shorter stature, he could look her in the eye. “Do you want help finding a book to read, Aunt Martina? I have to work the register soon, but they won’t mind if you hang out here.” That meant he had to talk to whatever customers came in; he was always nervous about it at first, but most typically only wanted someone to run the transaction or help them find a book, and those were things he could do. He was always good with books, though he still liked the idea of writing them even more than talking about them. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going overly well for him, but in the past few weeks, that had barely been a thought on his mind. His life was no longer about him and his own loneliness; it was about the people he loved, and that was a nice change, too.
“I told you, Ads, call me Tina.” Her hand was a comforting weight on his shoulder, familiar even after so many years without it.
“And I told you I’m not used to your new nickname yet and...”
No one calls me that, he thought, but that was not entirely true. Martina - or
Tina now - did; it had just been seven years since then. He was surprised that she remembered.
“Well, get used to it. I’m a whole new woman now, remember?” She chuckled as if this were the funniest thing; it was just like her to already make jokes about remembering.
“I’d like to see your favorites.”“My favorites?” He frowned thoughtfully. “I...I guess most is fine if it’s written well.” His literary and writing standards were high, but when it came to topics, he simply wanted to learn or feel something.
“What are you reading most right now?”That was an easier question. He took her to the small section full of books about travel and the world beyond Great Britain, a topic he would have never touched in his school days. Now, with the loss of most of his first-hand source of knowledge on it, he found it intriguing. Such was the irony of life.
For the next few hours, when he wasn’t helping the few customers that wandered in, he watched her read a book about the sights of South America rather than see them firsthand as she once did, and he wondered if she would rather be there than here.
