The best mornings were when I woke up at my grandparents’ house after spending the night.
I have never been able to recreate the way Grandma made her pancakes, or the way Grandpa would get mildly annoyed because I used too much sugar on my oatmeal. They were slow mornings. The kind I always enjoyed. Grandpa would sit at the table, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. Very cliché. Very ingrained in my memory. Grandma always had a book beside her big, comfortable chair — often a Tom Clancy novel or a romance.
Not every day of my childhood felt slow or steady. But I always knew that if I was at Grandma and Grandpa’s, it would be. They still had that old-school neighborhood — the kind where neighbors had known each other since my mom was a child. Even if Mr. David was slightly intimidating with his hair, there was comfort in the familiarity.
That may be why reading became more than a hobby. Stories became an escape. The characters felt like family and friends. When I opened a book, I wasn’t just reading — I was stepping into a world that had structure. A beginning, a middle, an end. There was order in the story world when there wasn’t always order in reality.
Alice and William — my Grandma and Grandpa — were married for over 50 years when Grandpa passed away in 2009. Grandma turns 89 in 2026. She is the matriarch of our family. They raised six children in a Catholic household on a single income. Grandpa was the strong and silent type. I don’t remember many long conversations, but he was always there.
When I was 17 and my first boyfriend came to dinner, a childhood story about me was told. Grandpa looked him in the eye and, in his calm, quiet voice, said, “She still is a kid.” I was only a few months shy of 18. It was protective. It was grounding.
Grandma has always been more outspoken. I still call her. It’s gotten harder as her hearing fades. Now our conversations are mostly me half-yelling into the phone and her laughing, “Oh Jacqueline.” No matter what anyone says, I am the favorite grandchild.
They made their marriage work while raising six children, stretching a single income, and loving all of us grandkids. They have always been an inspiration. When I think about marriages I admire, I think of my grandparents and my parents — people who made it work even when it seemed impossible.
My grandma passed down her love of reading. My aunts read. My mom read. I started reading more seriously in my teenage years. Escaping into a new world felt preferable to the one around me at times. My mom had endless romance novels. My dad had every Stephen King novel imaginable. Stories became sanctuary.
I spent 12 years in the Navy and deployed multiple times. I met my daughters’ father while I was in Iraq — a deployment that was interesting in more ways than one. We were married for 15 years before deciding it was healthier for all involved if we went our separate ways. Dual active-duty relationships are not easy.
My daughters are the greatest gifts I have ever received. They have given me purpose. I love listening to Grandma laugh when I tell her about their latest antics — like my youngest breaking up with a boy because he was failing regular math and that simply wasn’t acceptable. I told her to always keep her standards high. Or when I tell her about my oldest and how band is going for her. Grandma enjoys hearing about their musical endeavors. I like to think Grandpa is somewhere smiling. The girls are a lot like me. And again — I am the favorite.
You always hear that you should find work you love so that you don’t work a day in your life. I am working toward that goal.
Alice & William Books exists to help others find the genre they fall in love with. The story that becomes their refuge. The characters that feel like companions. A small escape from reality when it feels heavy.
One day, in downtown Swansboro along the main drag, in a brick building with a dark green sign and gold lettering, there will be a storefront. It will feel cozy. A small café where people can drink a latte while searching for the perfect book. Small rugs. Warm lighting — dim enough to feel inviting but bright enough to read by. Rustic shelves placed at angles. Plush chairs throughout so customers can preview books in comfort.
It will be a place where people feel safe lingering. A place for dates, friendships, book clubs, game nights, and small author meet-and-greets.
With this bookstore, we intend to build slowly.
Because you cannot build a lasting legacy by rushing it.
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