"Of course not," Ida said. "Nobody's been in here except—" She stopped, but it was too late. The only people who could have taken those drawers were right there in the store. In other words, Ida herself, Miz Phelps, Tori, Marie, and Lee. And Sue. It didn't take a whole lot of smarts for Sue to figure out which one Ida would rather blame.
"Call the police," Miz Lamar said. "I prepaid for this ensemble, and I insist on having it complete."
"I'm sure we have another pair of panties in stock that will go with the set," Ida said.
"Don't be ridiculous," Miz Lamar snapped. "The color, the trim—they're unique."
Sue had to admit that Miz Lamar had a point. There really wasn't anything in the store that would work, and no place else in town carried anything like it. There might be something close in the mall in Hickory, but Sue was willing to bet that it wouldn't be an exact match.
Ida swallowed hard but managed to get out, "Then I'll refund your money."
"Unacceptable! I ordered the set to wear to the cotillion tonight, and I will accept nothing less. Call the police."
The other customers were getting irate, and Sue didn't blame them. Miz Lamar had as good as accused one of them of stealing her panties. What did she think the police were going to do? Strip search everybody? Miz Phelps looked indignant, Tori was holding onto her daughter protectively, and Marie was mortified. As for Lee, he was sweating bullets. Sue didn't have any idea that he had stolen anything, but he did have a secret, and it might come out if the police got involved.
"Sue," Ida said in a strangled voice, half begging her to come up with something, half warning her that her job was on the line if she didn't.
Getting the police involved was a sure way of losing some of their best customers; even if one of them really was a thief, it would be awfully bad for business. And if Petticoat Junction closed, Sue could kiss her new minivan goodbye.
* * *
The day had started out bad and gotten worse. First off, Amber was teething and wouldn't stop whining. And Crystal snagged Sue's pantyhose while she was chasing Jason, which meant that she'd had to dig up another pair. Then Tiffany announced that she wasn't speaking to her because Sue wouldn't buy her a bra. If all that weren't enough, Ida had been on her back from the minute she got to work.
"Sue, have you seen the mailman?" Ida said.
"Not yet," Sue answered for the umpteenth time.
"Fiddlesticks!" Ida said. That was the closest thing to cussing Ida would allow herself at work. She wouldn't let Sue cuss either, but Sue had decided she'd rather say nothing as to say fiddlesticks.
Sue turned back to her customer, and said flatly, "You go ahead and buy that bra if you want, Miz Phelps, but I'm telling you, it ain't up to the job."
Mary Jacobs Phelps, who was anything but flat, glared at her. "I like a feminine bra."
"Suit yourself, but if you get that bra, your boo—" Sue stopped herself just in time. Words like boobs, hooters, and butt were also forbidden at Petticoat Junction. "Your breasts are going to hang halfway to your knees. At your age, they don't stand up on their own."
"I'll have you know that my breasts are as firm as they were the day I got married."
Sue was willing to believe her, but before she could say so, she saw Ida in the mirror, hovering behind them. Ida raised her eyebrows at Sue in a clear message. So Sue said, "Is that right? Well, that's nice, that's real nice."
Miz Phelps looked suspicious, but went back to admiring herself in the mirror.
Sue was tempted to let her go ahead and buy that pitiful excuse for a bra, even though she knew it would be stretched out of shape in no time.
The only thing was, if she did, Miz Phelps would come back and squawk that they'd sold her inferior merchandise, and Ida would blame Sue for it. So she was going to have to be tactful, even though tact wasn't her strong suit.
Sue smiled the way she'd seen her husband's cousin Vasti smile when she was sucking up to somebody. "You know, Miz Phelps, since you are so firm and all, I should show you the Le Bustier 3000. It emphasizes the bust line a lot more than that bra, and it would be a shame not to show off a figure like yours." Actually, Miz Phelps had a figure like a tugboat.
Ida was still hovering, so Sue decided to lay it on even thicker. "We don't stock many of the model I'm thinking of, because most women aren't big— Aren't well enough endowed to carry it off. You wait here and I'll get you one out of the storeroom."
While Miz Phelps simpered, Sue went in back and got the Le Bustier Model 3000, which they kept out of sight because it was so huge nobody would admit to needing it. She pulled off the size tag, and started to replace it with a tag with the size Miz Phelps thought she took. Then she had an inspiration and replaced it with a tag for one size smaller than that.
Sure enough, Miz Phelps checked the tag as soon as Sue handed it to her. She looked doubtful, but was all smiles when she opened the slatted door to the dressing room and said, "It fits!" in a tone of amazement. "Of course, it's not as pretty as the other one—"
"Maybe it's not as low cut," Sue said quickly, "but it seems to me that men want women to leave a little something to the imagination." She smiled the Vasti smile again, and held her breath while Miz Phelps thought it over.
"I believe you're right," she finally said. "I'll take six of these."
"Yes, ma'am," Sue said, mentally adding up the commission and how much closer it would get her to a minivan.
Miz Phelps went back into the dressing room to get changed, and Ida nodded approvingly at Sue. Then she had to go and ruin it by saying, "Don't forget to wrap them."
"Yes, ma'am." Sue had forgotten once last week, and Ida was never going to let her live it down. She went out back and pulled out five more Model 3000s, making sure to change all of the tags, and then wrapped the bras in the pale pink tissue paper Petticoat Junction stocked.
Wrapping things in paper the customers were going to toss away the second they got home made no sense to Sue, and once again, she wished the store's owner was still running the store. She and Bobbie Jo had gotten along real well, but Bobbie Jo had retired and hired Ida as manager, and suddenly the place had to be highfalutin.
First Ida had moved the store to Rocky Shoals, because she said there was a better class of customer there. Sue didn't mind that because it was closer to her house, but she did mind having to wear dresses and pantyhose to work, and she didn't much care for the other changes Ida had made, either.
Now everything in the store was pink, from the carpet to the curtains to the doors on the dressing rooms. Even the cash register was pink. And now they sold undergarments instead of underwear, panties instead of drawers, and stockings instead of pantyhose. If her station wagon weren't on its last legs, Sue would never have put up with it, and if Bobbie Jo hadn't insisted, Ida never would have kept her. Ida was itching for an excuse to get rid of her because Sue wasn't prissy enough to suit her, but Sue wanted that minivan something fierce. So if Ida wanted her to waste time wrapping bras in tissue paper, Sue would wrap bras in tissue paper.
Sue had to admit that the store was making more money than when Bobbie Jo was in charge, so maybe Ida knew what she was doing. Who'd have thought women could be so particular about their bras and so embarrassed about what size they wore? Sue herself had no interest in wearing gauzy nothings.
After four breast-fed children, all she wanted was support and comfort, and her own bras made the Le Bustier 3000s look as flimsy as the pink tissue paper they were wrapped in.
Sue was ringing up Miz Phelps' bras when the front door opened, and Ida went to greet the new customers. Sue recognized Tori Dupont, who had been in her graduating class, and Tori's daughter, Marie, who was a friend of Sue's daughter, Tiffany.
"Can I help you ladies?" Ida asked, smiling as warm a smile as she could manufacture.
"I hope so," Tori said while Marie looked in every direction other than at Ida. "My daughter here is ready for her first bra."
Sue would have cussed if she could ha
ve. According to Tiffany, Marie was the only girl in her class who didn't wear a bra. Other than Tiffany, that is. Tiffany was as flat as a flounder, but every other day she was whining that she needed a bra and that girls who were flatter than she was wore one. First off, Sue didn't think it was possible to be flatter than Tiffany, and second, if those other girls' mothers wanted to waste money on bras their daughters didn't need, that was their business. The problem was, Tiffany didn't see it that way, and when she saw Marie wearing a bra come Monday morning, she was going to be impossible to live with.
Miz Phelps had paid for her bras and was heading for the door when the mailman came in. Sue couldn't help grinning. As pink as the store was, it was nothing compared to the color that fellow turned every time he had to deliver something. He could get away with sliding letters under the door, but this time he had a package.
"Special delivery," he said in a choked voice.
Sue reached to take it from him, but Ida said, "I'll take care of this, Sue. You help Miz Dupont. And Miss Dupont." She smiled at the girl, but Marie was still trying to find something to look at that wouldn't embarrass her.
Sue took Tori and Marie over to the part of the store that had the sign New Beginnings hanging overhead, but Tori and Marie were more interested in seeing what was in that box. People around Rocky Shoals didn't get many special delivery packages. Miz Phelps was waiting around, too. The mailman, on the other hand, left as soon as he got Ida's signature.
"Thank goodness!" Ida said as she ripped the box open, not even bothering to use a letter opener to protect her manicure. She tossed wads of lavender tissue paper out onto the floor before reverently pulling out and unfolding a complete set of salmon pink lingerie: matching bra, panties, camisole, and garter belt. Marie finally stopped looking at her sneakers, and even Sue was impressed.
"That's just what I need for the cotillion," Miz Phelps said, even though it was plain that she'd need two or three sets like that to cover her. "How much is it?"
"I'm sorry, Miz Phelps," Ida said. "This ensemble is already sold. Miz Lamar special ordered it. According to the catalog, these are exactly like what Princess Diana wore on her wedding day. Only hers were white, of course."
The customers oohed and ahhed while Ida pulled out one of the satin padded hangers they used for negligees and delicately arranged the set. Then she hung it on the hook between the two dressing rooms, the place of honor reserved for the store's best. "I was afraid that it wouldn't arrive in time for the cotillion tonight, and Miz Lamar would have been so disappointed."
Disappointed? Sue knew darned well that Miz Lamar would have been mad as a wet hen. No wonder Ida had been a pain all day. Miz Lamar had probably been worrying her to death.
"Sue," Ida said, "clean up this mess while I call Miz Lamar."
Sue tried to smile instead of gritting her teeth as she gathered the box and packing material and took it to the storeroom. When she came back out front, the store's customers were clustered around the royal undergarments.
"Does it come in other colors?" Miz Phelps was asking.
"I believe so," Ida said, "but I have to warn you that it's quite expensive."
Sue whistled softly. It must be high for Ida to admit that to a customer. Ida called a thirty-dollar bra "one of life's necessities," and a forty-dollar bra "a little indulgence."
Ida said, "Come on back to my office to look at the catalog." Sue raised her estimate even more. Ida kept her office fancier than the store itself, and only did business there if she thought she was going to make a big sale.
Sue wasn't pleased. Miz Phelps was her customer, but if Ida made the sale, she wouldn't have to pay Sue a commission. At least she had Tori to wait on. A few bras for Marie should help with the minivan. Sue said, "Marie, put your arms down so I can get a look at you."
Marie wouldn't meet Sue's eyes, but she did move her arms away from her chest, such as it was. She didn't have much more than Tiffany. Sue pulled out three different triple A's, bras so small they had spandex panels instead of cups. "Give these a try, and see which one feels the best. Now remember—you're going to be wearing it all day long. Make sure it's comfortable."
Just then the door opened again, and Lee Fredericks, one of Sue's regular customers, came in. Marie's eyes got wide as saucers because of a man seeing her with bras in her hand, and she fled into the dressing room and slammed the door behind her.
Tori smiled. "I still remember how embarrassed I was when I got my first bra."
Sue didn't see what the big deal was, but she nodded anyway. "If you'll excuse me a minute, I'll go see what Mr. Fredericks needs."
"Hey, Sue," Lee said.
"Hey there, Lee. What can I do you for?"
"I just dropped by to see if you had anything new. For my wife."
"How did she like that last batch of panties?"
"Loved them," he said.
"Well, we've got some new ones in that same line, only the lace is softer. Pretty colors, too."
"Let's see them."
"Did the size tens fit all right?"
"Perfectly," he said, with a gleam in his eye.
Just like with bras, Ida didn't keep the larger sizes on display, so Sue went out back to get the panties in red, black, dark blue, and pine green. Just for the heck of it, she pulled out some tiger- and leopard-skin prints, too.
She laid them out on a table in front of Lee, and while he looked at them, she went back to the dressing room. "How are you doing in there, Marie?"
"Okay."
"Let me take a look."
Marie only opened the door a crack. She wasn't taking any chances that Lee would be able to see the little bit she had.
Sue peered in. "Turn around."
Marie obeyed.
Sue pulled at the midriff band. "This one's too big. Let me get you a smaller size."
"Smaller than this?" Marie said in anguished tones.
"Not the cup size," Sue explained. "I'm talking about the band. It's got to fit right to support you the way it should."
Sue closed the door so Marie could try on the next one.
Tori whispered, "Did I hear you getting that man size ten panties?"
Sue nodded.
"His wife must be huge! I didn't wear panties that big when I was pregnant with Marie."
Sue shrugged. Lee lived in Charlotte, so she didn't have any idea of what his wife looked like. Besides, the woman never got any of those panties he picked out anyway. Sue had figured out ages ago that he wore them himself, and he probably had a pair on under his khakis right now. Why else would he buy panties in Rocky Shoals, when there were plenty of bigger places in Charlotte? Size ten was big for a woman, but it wasn't big at all for a man.
"Marie," Sue said, "I'm handing you the other size over the door."
Marie's hand reached up to take them.
Tori said, "You know, while I'm here, I may as well get a couple of new bras, too."
Sue looked over at Lee to make sure he was all right, and saw him admiring the salmon pink lingerie set. She was pretty sure that garter belts were too much for him, but she sure would have liked the commission from selling it to him. Anyway, since he was occupied, she helped Tori look for what she wanted. Except they didn't have what she wanted. That model had been discontinued.
"But I've been wearing the same exact bra since high school," Tori said.
"You did develop all at once, didn't you?" Sue said. Tori had left school at the end of freshmen year flat as a pancake, but had had all the boys chasing after her when she came back in September. "Le Bustier makes one that's nearly the same. Try one on and see what you think."
"Are you sure I can't get the old one?"
Sue sighed. Not only were women particular about bras, but some were loyal until death. "You might be able to call around and find somebody who's got one left, but you may as well go ahead and get used to something else." She pulled one from a rack. "Try this one and tell me if you don't like it just as well."
"I don
't need to try it on."
"You heard what I told Marie. An uncomfortable bra can ruin your whole day."
Sue handed it to her, and Tori disappeared into the dressing room. While she was gone, Sue spoke to Lee, then went into the back room to get him more of the animal-print panties.
Sue was trying to make sure everybody had everything they needed when Annabelle Lamar swept in, nose as high in the air as ever. Ignoring the fact that Sue was busy with other customers, she said, "I'm here to pick up my order."
Ida must have heard her, because she pushed Miz Phelps out of her office so she could usher Miz Lamar in. Then she rushed back out to get the salmon pink lingerie and say, "Sue, I told you to get that trash off of the floor."
With so many customers in the store, Sue couldn't even cuss under her breath as she grabbed a wad of white tissue she'd missed and shoved it into her pocket. It wasn't as though she didn't have plenty to do. Lee was waiting to pay for his panties, Miz Phelps wanted her to write up the catalog order, Tori had decided to get the new bra but wanted Sue to find her two more, and Marie couldn't make up her mind which bra felt the best.
Sue was trying to get them all squared away when Miz Lamar realized that her panties were missing.
* * *
Now Sue was trying her darnedest to figure out what had happened. She hated to admit it, but Miz Lamar was right. Somebody in the store had to have those panties.
Miz Lamar said, "Ida, if you won't call the police, I'll do it myself."
Not that she actually reached for the phone, of course. She was too used to people doing whatever she wanted. So that gave Sue enough time to think the situation over.
The way Sue figured it, if Ida had wanted to take the panties, she wouldn't have made a point of opening the box in front of everybody. Besides which, she'd own up to it now to keep Miz Lamar from calling the police. As for Miz Lamar, Sue wouldn't put it past her because the woman enjoyed making a fuss, but she didn't think she'd had a chance.
That left the other customers. The lingerie had been hanging in plain sight, and since Sue and Ida had been going back and forth to the storeroom and office, there'd been plenty of time for somebody to grab them.
Crooked as a Dog's Hind Leg Page 14
