Anastasia's Chosen Career by Lois Lowry Page A

children's books on the table, Anastasia sat down beside Barbara Page's desk and spoke softly. "I told you I wanted to buy a book," she began.
    Barbara Page laughed. "Don't be silly. Take one of those kids' books home for your brother—no charge. I'm not going to take your money."
    "No, wait," Anastasia whispered. "I really want to. But I didn't know which book I wanted. And now I do. I want to buy that one." She indicated the book on the desk. "I want to buy it for Henry, so she can look again and again at how beautiful the Masai woman is."
    Barbara Page smiled. "I'm sorry, Anastasia. But it's not for sale. It's already spoken for."
    "
Rats.
"
    The telephone rang. "Could you answer that, Anastasia, and practice being a bookstore owner? Get it in the front room. I have some stuff to tend to in here."
    Anastasia nodded and went to the front of the bookstore where another telephone was on the wall. "Pages, good afternoon," she said, remembering how Barbara Page always answered the phone. Henry, sitting at the children's table, looked over at her and grinned.
    "Barbara?" a woman's voice asked.
    "No," Anastasia answered, "Mrs. Page is busy at the moment. This, is her assistant. May I help you?" She crossed her fingers, hoping the woman had a question she would be able to answer.
    "Well, I'm looking for a gift for a friend. Could you recommend something? Nonfiction, I think."
    Anastasia glanced quickly at the shelves. She saw cookbooks, gardening books, biographies, travel books, photography books.
    "Well, ah, what are your friend's interests?" she asked.
    "She's quite literary," the woman responded. "She's the librarian at a boys' boarding school."
    Suddenly Anastasia's eyes fastened on a particular section of the shelves.
    "In that case," she said into the telephone, "she would appreciate an autographed edition. And we just happen to have here an autographed copy of the latest volume of Myron Krupnik's poetry."
    "Myron Krupnik? Have I heard of him?"
    "I should hope so," Anastasia said. "The
New York Times
called him 'Master of the Contemporary Image.'"
    "Goodness. Well, I think she
would
like that. You say it's autographed?"
    "It certainly is. He has terrible handwriting, but lots of famous people have terrible handwriting. I know someone who got Bruce Springsteen's autograph once, and Bruce Springsteen had terri—"
    "Yes, well, could you gift wrap that and mail it for me? I'll give you the address and you can charge it to my account."
    Anastasia copied down the information carefully. Then she took it triumphantly to the back room, where Barbara Page was still at her desk. "I sold a book!" she said.
    "No kidding!" Barbara Page looked delighted.
    "My own father's book! She wants you to mail it to her friend. Here's the address."
    "Anastasia, I think you have a great future as a bookstore owner. Thank you. Now, here—it's almost one o'clock. You guys have to go back and practice talking. Not that you seem to have any trouble with it, either one of you." She handed Anastasia and Henry each a paper bag with pages printed on the side in wide blue letters.
    "What's this?" Anastasia asked.
    "A present for each of you. And a few smeary books for your little brothers and nephews."
    She walked them to the door with an arm around each of them. "Come back and see me again, okay?"
    "Okay, and thank you," Henry and Anastasia said.
    Outside, walking back through the Common, they looked inside their shopping bags. Anastasia found a book about trucks for Sam and a book for herself which contained beautiful color photographs of animals. Inside the front cover, Barbara Page had written, "For my friend and future bookstore owner, Anastasia Krupnik. Giraffes are my very favorite. With love from Barbara Page."
    Henry pulled out the two picture books she had chosen for her nephews and the book that contained the picture of the Masai woman. Inside, Barbara Page had written, "For Henrietta Peabody, who comes from a long tradition of great