The Signing

So Mike has had his book signing at Lilliput's and want 2 share.

April,

Formerly little sis. I must say it was a great day to have a book-signing at mom’s old store, Lilliput’s. It was snowing and icy outside, but when doesn’t it do that in Milborough during the winter? Lake effects, I understand, but they couldn’t “effect” the mood in the store. I sat at my table with dozens of unsigned books and a pen ready to go at a moment’s notice. The room was filled with little Christmas doo-dads and leafy things hanging from the ceiling catching on people’s heads and garments, just like it was during mom’s days of running the store. Christmas decorations abounded. On a nearby shelf was a group of Styrofoam snowmen imitating a scene from some old movie involving top hats. Fred Astaire maybe? My whole family was there, except for Elizabeth of course. They were there to see the moment when you finally gave into your promise from last summer.

You said you wouldn’t read my book until it made the New York Times best-seller list, and I know you were surprised when it did. As you picked up your copy of Stone Season, mom was there with her camera to capture the moment. My kids were there looking on as Auntie April said, “Could you sign this book for me, please?” For the sake of your readers I will skip over the part where you first said, “All right. You’re a best seller. Now sign the book, so we can get this over with.” And I said, “Say ‘please’.” And then you stomped off and left the store for awhile before you finally came back with your collar on your coat turned up trying to look “cool.” But once you did come back and you said, “please”, it was my pleasure to say back to you, “It would be my pleasure. What would you like me to say?” I think my cordiality was throwing you off. Either that or the silhouette of dad openly carrying that flask. Frankly I found dad’s behaviour during the signing a little disconcerting myself, but that’s a story for another day.

However, dad or my cordiality did not throw you off for long. You threw your head back, rolled your eyes skyward, and said, “How about…to the most wonderful, beautiful, talented, fantastic, intelligent person I have ever…” Well right then I knew what you were up to. You were planning on giving a copy of my book back to me. It would be ironic to have my own book signed by me to me given as a gift. I think it was a clever idea, formerly little sis, but I really don’t need to have a copy signed by me to me. So, I interrupted you and said, “Right!...’To a cool sister…Love, Mike!”” You didn’t seem to like that dedication, but I can assure you that my daughter was excited that I called you “cool”. And that large lady with the polka-dotted shirt and the jacket, who covered her mouth with her deformed hand just at that moment, to try to keep from laughing at you in front of your face, did find it very amusing.

In the meantime, mom has a picture she has captioned, “The Martian admits defeat” she has placed in her scrapbook, which I expect we will reminisce over in about 30 years.

Love,
Michael Patterson

That, of course, was pure torture. Sorry abt my lack of posting yesterday, but Mom forced me 2 keep my so-called promise 2 Mike abt reading his book. OMG, I am so lucky I had Jeremy 2 make that all less painful 2 me. Thanx, Jeremy, 4 that and also visiting my Gramps w/me. W/the rest of my fam so pre-occupied, it was a perfect opportunity 2 sneak in a visit.

Oh, and thank God we R back 2 real-time stories, even if that means Michael gloating. Erg.

Apes