by Gayle Leeson
Max gave a squeak of indignation as Connie shook with quiet laughter.
Connie gave my shoulder a warm squeeze. “I need to get to my post too, but I’ll be back to check on you later. Would you like the door left open or closed?”
“Open, please...although I might make a sign tomorrow to keep it closed because I’m planning on bringing my cat to keep me company. Do you think that’ll be okay?”
“I think it’ll be great.”
As soon as Connie left, Max asked, “Would you like for me to man the shop while you go buy one of everything they’ve got over there at Ella’s place?”
“Tempting as that offer is, I’d better stick around since none of my customers would be able to see you.”
“Suit yourself, darling, but that’s a one-time-use coupon and it might be a limited-time offer as well. You can’t be too careful.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I said with a laugh.
MY FIRST CUSTOMERS were a pair of middle-aged to older women. One was tall, stout, and boisterous, and the other was mousy and less talkative. Both women wore capris, t-shirts, and sandals. They looked around for a moment before the tall one said, “Is this all you’ve got?”
“Yes...for now.” I went on to explain the concept of the shop. “I’ll have some ready-to-wear pieces, but most of my items will be custom made to the client’s specifications.”
“Hmph.” The tall one stalked back out of the shop with her mousy friend in her wake.
The friend hurried back in moments later. Without the other woman and her overpowering personality, I could see that this woman wasn’t mousy but merely delicate and soft-spoken.
“I accidentally-on-purpose left my handbag here,” she said with a grin. “My granddaughter is getting married soon, and I’d love to come back in and talk with you when I have more time.”
“Of course!” I strode over to the desk and retrieved a couple of business cards for the woman. “Come back anytime.”
“Thank you. I find the notion of a custom dress simply marvelous. My granddaughter’s fiance’s aunt is kinda snobby, and I’d love to have a one-of-a-kind gown that would knock everybody’s socks off...especially hers.”
“I can certainly fix you right up. And if you’ll tell me who the aunt is—” I said, with a conspiratorial wink, “—I’ll make sure she doesn’t outshine you.”
“Oh, you just met her. She was the mouthy one.”
Max threw back her head and laughed. As soon as the woman had scurried out with her purse, I gave into a fit of giggles myself.
GRANDPA DAVE BROUGHT an entire Dutch oven filled with chicken and dumplings at around eleven-thirty that morning. He came through the door, spoke with Max and me—who were the only ones in the shop at the time—and asked if he could warm his dish up in the kitchen.
“Sure. That looks wonderful, Grandpa. You know I love your chicken and dumplings.”
“I wish I could taste them,” Max said, peering into the pot. “They look delicious.” She sighed. “A man as handsome as you who cooks? Ah, Dave, you make me wish I were alive.”
Grandpa took the dish into the kitchen, removed the clear lid, and put it on a burner to warm. “I’ll check around and see if anyone else wants some.”
“Actually, I’d like to ask...if you don’t mind watching the shop,” I said. “I haven’t been out of the shop all day, and I’ll like to walk around a bit.”
“She wants to go up and check on lover boy,” said Max. “But that suits me. Stay here and talk with me, Silver Fox.”
“Okay, scoot, Pup. The chicken and dumplings should be warm by the time you get back.”
I started with Connie. She was with a customer, so I waited until the woman had paid for her purchase and had left the shop before asking Connie if she’d like to join us for chicken and dumplings for lunch.
“My grandpa made them. He’s a wonderful cook, and...well, he spoils me. He brought enough for everyone.”
“How thoughtful! I’d love some. Thank you!”
Next stop Everything Paper.
“Does your grandfather put celery in his chicken and dumplings?” Ella asked.
“No, ma’am. We don’t particularly like the taste of celery in ours.”
“Well, I put lots of celery in mine. We love it. Don’t we, Frank?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll take you up on that offer, Amanda. Is Dave here now?”
“Yes, he’s in Designs on You.”
“Good. See you in a few, Ella.” With that, he was gone. So much for Max and Grandpa Dave having much of a conversation.
I headed upstairs. Mrs. Meacham thanked me for the offer but declined, saying she always goes home to make lunch for Mr. Meacham now that her husband is retired. Janice said she was watching her figure. Ford said he was meeting a friend for lunch but that it was good to know someone with a tried-and-true chicken and dumplings recipe. He said he hadn’t had really good chicken and dumplings since his grandmother died.
I saved Jason for last. He said he would be delighted to have lunch with Grandpa and me.
As we walked downstairs toward the kitchen, Jason asked me how business was going.
“My first couple of customers were characters. One of them acted as if she were insulted by the very idea of my shop, but her friend came back in and said she’d like a one-of-a-kind dress for her granddaughter’s wedding. She also let me in on the fact that she wanted to outshine her...well, I guess it would be her frenemy...who is the granddaughter’s fiance’s aunt.”
“That sounds fantastic. Do you think they’ve booked a photographer yet?”
“I don’t know. But when she comes back in, I’ll definitely tell her she should come upstairs and talk with you.”
“Thanks. Anybody else interesting come along?”
“I’ve had a few people stop in, and I sold one of the ready-to-wear dresses, so I’m happy at how the day is going.”
“I’m glad. May I take you to dinner this evening to celebrate?”
“Yes, I’d like that.”
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, I was working on a sketch for a new dress in the workroom while Max read at the desk in the reception area. The design was an evening gown inspired by a 1946 Butterick evening dress pattern. I was modifying the sweetheart neckline to be off the shoulders and to have rosettes go completely around the top. The dress had a fitted bodice and then fell gracefully to the floor.
I had a small rolling cart sitting next to me at the work table. The cart contained my pencils, erasers, pencil sharpeners, fine felt-tip black pens, watercolors, colored pencils, and markers. I mixed a bit of red and white paint to get a mauve color and began painting the gown.
Max drifted into the workroom and looked at the sketch. “That’s really pretty.”
“Thanks. I got to thinking that I’ve been designing mostly for myself, but now that I’ve opened Designs on You, I need to upgrade my lookbook to include things like bridesmaid and prom dresses.”
The click-click-click of Janice’s heels on the floor above caused both of us to look ceilingward.
“Third. Time. Today,” I said. “Not that I’m counting.”
“Once was too many.” Max blew out a breath. “Why doesn’t she stay in her shop where she belongs?”
“It sure doesn’t seem as if Janice is as heartbroken about Mark as she was before Jason arrived.” I immediately chastised myself. “I’m sorry. Maybe she’s just trying to make Jason feel welcome.”
Max snorted. “Yeah, and maybe I’m just a figment of your imagination.”
A voice sounded from the other room. “Hello?”
“Hi!” I called. “Be right there.”
When she entered the reception area, I recognized the woman I’d seen with Connie during the photo shoot on Saturday. The girl with her was undoubtedly her granddaughter.
“Welcome to Designs on You,” I said. “It’s great to see you again.”
“I didn’t know whether you’d remember me or not,” the woman said. “Yo
u were so busy with your photos and everything...but I’m flattered that you did remember.”
“Of course. You wanted to look at the green evening gown, right?”
“Yes, please. By the way, I’m Olga, and this is my granddaughter Taylor.”
“Nice to meet you both.” I took the gown off the mannequin and handed it to Taylor. “You can change right in there behind the Oriental screen.”
Taylor smiled at her grandmother before hurrying off with the dress.
“If you need any help, let us know.” I called.
“I’d better go with her and help her with those buttons,” said Olga.
When the pair returned to the reception area, I ushered them back to the three-way mirror.
Taylor gasped. “I love it!”
“It looks really beautiful on you.”
Taylor looked at Olga. “Can we get it, Grandma?”
“Let’s talk with your mom first and make sure it’s okay,” Olga said, snapping some pictures of Taylor with her phone. “If she says it is, then yes, we’ll come back and get it.” She looked at me. “Do we need to put a deposit down on it?”
“Actually, if you buy the dress, you won’t be getting this dress, but one custom made to fit Taylor. She can even get the dress in a different color, if she’d like.”
“What? I can have a prom dress made specifically for me?” Taylor asked. “Nobody else will have one like it?”
“That’s right.”
“That’s so lit!” Taylor hugged Olga.
“That is lit,” Olga said. “Go ahead and get changed. I made some photos for your mom.” As Taylor went behind the Oriental screen, Olga told me that lit was a good thing. “Oh, you probably already knew that.”
“I didn’t,” Max said. “If you’d have said something was lit in my day, I’d have thought you meant drunk.”
I merely smiled. It was weird having someone join in a conversation that the other parties to the conversation couldn’t see or hear.
“Oh, my gosh!” Taylor stepped out from behind the Oriental screen and spotted the sketch. “Do you have this dress?”
“Not yet. Right now, it’s still in the concept stage,” I said.
“Hannah would look really pretty in that,” Taylor said to Olga. “Don’t you think?”
“Hannah is her best friend,” Olga supplied. “They’ve been besties since Kindergarten.”
“Taylor, if you or any of your friends would like to design your own dress, come by and we’ll look at patterns.”
“For real?”
I smiled. “For real.” I handed both Taylor and Olga a couple of business cards. “And if you need photographs, the gorgeous guy upstairs can hook you up.”
“He is gorgeous,” Olga said. “I saw him on Saturday.”
Taylor was talking excitedly to her grandmother as I walked them out. I felt sure the two of them—and maybe Hannah and some of Taylor’s other friends—would be back. As Olga and Taylor went out the front door, Mark’s mother and her psychic friend, Sabine, came into Shops on Main.
I greeted the women and then glanced toward the stairs. Mrs. Meacham wouldn’t be happy if Sabine was here to try to conjure up Mark.
Sabine held her arms slightly out from her sides and closed her eyes. “I feel a strong presence here.” She opened her eyes and brushed past me into Designs on You.
Lorinda and I followed Sabine. Lorinda looked hopeful that the presence was that of her son. I was concerned because I knew it wasn’t. I was looking at “the presence,” who was standing in the center of the room looking skeptical.
Sabine drifted near the spot where Max was standing.
“Can you see her...or him?” I asked.
Max used her fingers to make herself a set of glasses and poked her tongue out at Sabine.
Before I could stop it, I choked out a laugh that sounded like a seal’s bark. Sabine turned and gave me a sharp look.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “This just makes me nervous.”
“I don’t believe you need to be frightened of this presence,” said Sabine. “I do not see it, but I don’t feel as if it’s malevolent.”
“Is it Mark?” Lorinda whispered.
“No.” Once again, Sabine closed her eyes. “This is a woman...a woman who lived here long ago.”
Max turned her mouth down at the corners. “All right. What else ya got, Toots?”
“I believe the woman died here,” Sabine said. “Perhaps in this very room.”
“Close,” Max said, “but no cigar.” She pretended to smoke a stogie.
“If this isn’t where the woman died, then this could be the room where she took ill...or could have even been poisoned.”
At Sabine’s words, Max looked shocked and then disappeared. I gasped. Where had Max gone? Would she ever be back?
“I don’t care about some random woman who lived and died here,” Lorinda said. “I want to know about Mark.”
“Of course.” Sabine turned and led the way into the hall.
Lorinda and I trailed behind Sabine, but I turned back around to see if Max had reappeared. She hadn’t.
Connie had come to stand in her doorway, and her eyes met mine. There was a distinct question in Connie’s eyes, and I shrugged. I certainly didn’t have any answers at the moment.
“Althea, I’ll be right back,” Connie called to her customer. “I just have to run upstairs for a second.”
I followed the three women to the bottom of the staircase but stopped and looked back toward my shop.
Max materialized at her side. “Go on back to Designs on You. I’ll tag along and fill you in.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Sabine overheard and thought the comment was directed at her. “Thank you, my dear, and remember, you have nothing to fear—not from Mark, if he’s here, and not from the female presence I felt in your shop.”
“Thank you.” I went back to Designs on You. I didn’t want to miss anything, but I didn’t want to get on Mrs. Meacham’s bad side my first day there either.
As soon as I got seated in front of my new sketch, Frank popped in through the door leading to the kitchen.
“Hi,” he said. “Ella sent me to find out what’s going on.”
I told him as much as I knew. “I don’t think they’re going to conduct a séance or anything. I think Sabine just wants to see if she can feel Mark’s presence upstairs.”
“Lucky for them, Melba isn’t here. She’d probably have a fit.” He shrugged. “I don’t care what they do, as long as they leave me out of their hooey. By the way, anytime your grandpa brings chicken and dumplins’, let me know...but on the sly. Ella thinks hers are the best, but she’s a lousy cook. Dave has her beat all to pieces...but don’t say I told you so.”
MAX RETURNED SEVERAL minutes later.
“So, what happened?” I asked softly.
“Well, Mark’s mother introduced herself to Jason. And—get this—Janice picks up her purse, locks her door, and leaves!”
“Just like that?”
“Exactly like that. She didn’t say a word to anyone and left out the back,” Max said.
“Wow. What did Jason say to Lorinda?”
“He offered his condolences and then waited to see what she wanted. He’s ever so classy, you know. I think you two might be a really good match.”
I let that comment slide. “And what did Lorinda say?”
“She asked Jason if Sabine could come into his studio to see if she could feel Mark’s presence since it had previously been his office. Jason said, sure, Sabine came in, and she didn’t feel a thing. I even went over into Janice’s office so Sabine wouldn’t be confused by feeling my presence there.”
“And she didn’t even detect that you were there?”
Max shook her head. “She said it’s her strong belief that Mark has moved into the light because his presence isn’t here. And I told you that last week.”
“Yeah... Is Lorinda okay?”
“A
s much as she can be, I suppose. She’s relieved that Mark’s spirit is at peace, but she still wants justice for her son. Sabine said—and I quote—“I can tell you one thing. Your son died because of someone else’s secret. But that secret will soon be revealed.’”
{ }
Chapter Ten
G
randpa Dave’s chicken and dumplings had been simmering on the stove in case anyone wanted some. Now I walked into the kitchen and switched off the burner, so the dish would be cool enough for me to wash it and take it with me when I went home. I saw that there wasn’t much left. Remembering Ford saying how much he liked chicken and dumplings, I decided to take them to him. I spooned the contents of the pot onto a paper plate. I snagged a plastic fork from the box on the counter and took the plate upstairs to Ford.
When I got up there, I was relieved to see that his door was open. I was carrying the plate in both hands, and I was glad I didn’t have to risk dumping it onto the floor when I knocked.
“Is that what I think it is?” he called.
“It is, if you think it’s the last of Grandpa’s chicken and dumplings.”
“Let me clear a spot.” Ford moved the books he was going through to the side.
I put the plate on the cleared area and handed him the fork.
“I warn you, I might be a harsh judge. Granny’s were the best I’ve ever had.” He tasted the dish, arched a brow, and took another bite. “This is almost as good as what Granny used to make.” He looked toward the ceiling. “I said ‘almost’, Granny!”
I laughed. “I’m glad to hear it. Grandpa Dave will be proud.”
“He should be. How are you enjoying your book?”
“I love it. It’s one I can read over and over again,” I said.
“Me, too.” He squinted, as if trying to remember. “’The cloud of caring for nothing, which overshadowed him with such a fatal darkness, was very rarely pierced by the light within him.’”
“That’s wonderful! I’m afraid I can’t quote anything but the opening lines...but everyone knows those.”
