Ching-ching-ing. The bell on the door of Paige's Books, Old and New, chingled when Aly Reid entered the small store. The old-fashioned way of alerting a storekeeper to a customer suited the store with its larger front room of new books and small back room of second-hand paperbacks. A few worn armchairs were placed here and there as Fred Paige encouraged readers to check out the books. A few locked cases held more valuable rare books.

The front window held volumes of love poems, in a display for Valentine's Day, and the Booklovers Valentine's Evening Fred held every year. In honor of the day, Fred put love songs on the sound system. "Underneath It All" was playing.

Aly looked at the display, wished she had someone to read poetry with, or write it for, or write it for her, and went to the back room to search for something to read on what was certainly going to be another solitary Valentine's Day.

In the back room, she found a worn hardback of Neruda's poetry, and selected a paperback romance. Second-hand romance was better than nothing on a cold February 14 with five inches of snow expected.

She sat in an empty chair in the front room, and checked the weather on her phone. Snow due to start soon. She'd walk to Grand Central to catch the 7 subway to Queens, but she had a little time before the Valentine's for booklovers began. She opened the mystery. A fluffy black tom, the store cat, brushed against her legs. She scratched his ears.

The doorbell chinged again as a middle-aged couple entered, the man holding the door for the woman. The woman went to the back room as the man came to the cash register, where Fred was in his usual seat and Arnold, his great-nephew, manned the register.

"Hi, Fred. Arnold. Is everything ready?"

"Almost, Joe," said Fred. "Have you got the book ready?" He leaned forward eagerly. He loved romance.

"Right here," said Joe, reaching in his coat and removing a hardbound copy of Neruda's poetry. He laid it on the counter gently. He opened the cover and flipped gently through the pages till he came to the hollowed-out center. A ring box was nestled there.

"That's wonderful," said Fred. "This is going to be the best Valentine's in 45 years. Our first proposal." Fred grinned with delight.

Joe leaned forward and asked, "Have you met anyone yet, Arnold? Lots of young women come here."

Arnold shook his head. "Not yet. I've about given up hope.

"Dating apps?"

"No luck. A few dates, but the women thought they deserved better than a paralegal." Arnold wheezed and puffed on his asthma inhaler. He nodded as his breathing eased, and put it in his pocket.

"What's wrong with being a paralegal?"

"I'm not a lawyer, and happy with that. Most women aren't." Arnold blinked behind his glasses. "Maybe I should get contacts."

"Maybe." Joe examined Arnold's watery blue eyes, and said, with tact, "Glasses suit you. Gives you that intelligent vibe. If you don't meet anyone tonight, want me to see if Peggy can fix you up with a cousin of hers? Nice girl."

Arnold blinked. "Sure. Want to put this in the front window? Then you and Peggy can find it, like you wanted."

Joe shut the volume. He and Arnold went to the window and Arnold placed the book beside a stack of love poetry.

"Want to check the back? The champagne you got to celebrate is chilling." The two men walked through a door marked, "Employees Only."

Fred summoned his clerk over. "Gina, I'm running up to my apartment to get the refreshments for tonight. Back in a few minutes. Watch the register till Arnold returns, please."

"Sure," said Gina.

Aly looked out the window and saw snow beginning to fall steadily. She took her books to the cashier and added a small box of truffles. "Teacher's discount, please."

Gina looked them over and added them up. A wad of pages dropped out of the Neruda book. "I think pages are missing," said Gina. "Do you still want it? I can give you a bigger discount."

Aly shook her head. "No, thanks, I'll just lose more. I really wanted to read Neruda. I love his poetry."

"So do I," said Gina. "We have some volumes of Neruda in the front window. Shall I get one for you?"

"Thanks," said Aly.

Gina went to the window and picked up the volume placed there by Arnold and returned to the register. "Will this do?"

Aly nodded.

"The Neruda is $10.00. Is that OK?"

"Yes," said Aly. It was getting late and the snow fell harder. She paid for the books and Gina put them in a bag.

"Are you staying for the party?" Gina asked.

"No, I want to get home before the storm shuts things down."

"Maybe that's best. I met my boyfriend at one of the booklover parties."

"Is that the young man with the glasses who's here sometimes?" Aly asked.

"No," said Gina. "That's Arnold, Mr. Page's nephew. He's quite a reader."

Arnold and Joe walked up. "Arnold, we were just talking about you," said Gina.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I told Aly you like to read, and she's a teacher."

Joe nudged Arnold.

"What do you teach?" Arnold asked.

"English." Aly said. He had a voice meant for reading aloud. She smiled.

"I've seen you here before," Arnold said. "You like poetry."

"That's right," said Aly. "I've got to get home before the storm gets worse. See you. Nice meeting you."

She went to the door, and looked back at them. Arnold looked over and smiled. She waved. The bell chinged as she left.

"I think she likes you," Gina and Joe said. Arnold laughed.

Thirty minutes later the store was full of people for such a bad night. Fred put out more food and drinks.

Joe led Peggy around, searching for the "right" volume of poetry. They got to the front window.

"Neruda. How about him?" Joe asked.

"Why not?" Peggy looked at the books. She'd hoped for more than a book this Valentine's.

Joe reached into the display and picked up a book. It wasn't the one he'd put there. He picked up another.

"Arnold!"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"It's not here." Joe was pale.

"What's not here?"

The book," Joe whispered. "It's gone."

The two men searched the display, then the nearby shelves. Gina watched them curiously. "More Than Words" began to play.

"We didn't sell anything from the window," said Arnold. "Uncle Fred, did you sell a book of Neruda from the display?"

"Of course not," said Fred.

"I did," said Gina. "The woman, the teacher, had a Neruda book, but it was damaged, so I got her one from the window display."

"Ohhhhh," Joe groaned.

Peggy looked at Joe. "Can't you get another book, honey?"

He shook his head.

"He had a Valentine for you in that book," said Fred.

"Get the woman's receipt. We'll have to call her."

"She paid cash," said Gina.

"Don't worry about the gift, Joe," said Peggy.

"It was a ring," he said.

Peggy gripped his arm. "It's all right, honey. You're here with me."

"Can you find the woman who bought the book?" Joe asked.

"Probably not, since she paid cash," said Fred. "Maybe she'll return when she finds the ring."

"Maybe," said Joe sadly. Peggy squeezed his hand.

Ching-ching-ing went the bell. Aly hurried in, shutting the door against the snow. She stamped her feet on the mat and went to the register.

"You came back," Arnold said.

"Yes?" Aly put the bookbag on the counter. "I guess you know why. I found the Neruda had been hollowed out and a ring box was inside." She pulled the book from the bag and placed it on the counter. "Do you know anything about it?

"It belongs to Joe," Arnold said, nodding at the man staring open-mouthed at her.

Aly handed him the book. "Here you go." She looked curiously at the woman with him, who trembled with excitement.

Joe took a deep breath. He took the ring box, opened it, and knelt on one knee.

"Peggy, will you marry me?"

"Yes, yes, yes," she said, and bent over to kiss him. The party-goers applauded.

"Champagne," said Joe.

Arnold handed Aly a plastic champagne flute. "Thanks for coming back so soon."

"It was important. I've got to get to Grand Central before the storm gets worse."

"Stay a bit," said Arnold. "The store will get you a car."

Aly nodded.

"Do you like Neruda?"

"Very much."

"I'll get a book to replace the one you brought back." He retrieved a couple of volumes from the display and handed it to her.

"Would you like to go for coffee sometime," he asked, taking the risk.

She considered. "I guess so. Will you read the poems aloud to me?" They laughed.