Gilda followed, but instead of trying to calm the boy, the woman headed straight for her car. She shoved the boy into the passenger side of the car, sans car seat, jumped into the driver’s seat, started the engine and tore off, burning rubber.
Gilda ran out the door. “Stop, stop!” But it was too late. The car turned into the lot behind Artisans Alley and disappeared from view.
Discouraged, Gilda returned to her shop to clean up the mess. There, on the counter, were Iris’s wrapped treasures, still waiting to be opened. Would their owner return? Would she be too embarrassed to come back to the shop to retrieve her property? If she couldn’t afford coffee, would Iris have a telephone, and if she did, would she be listed on the online White Pages?
Gilda just didn’t know.
A day passed, then another, and yet another and still Iris Drake did not return to Gilda’s store.
On the morning of the fourth day, Gilda looked out the window of her shop to see Katie Bonner power walking across the Square and left her store to intercept her friend.
“Katie!”
Katie walked briskly to join Gilda, but instead of stopping, she began to march in place. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you’d seen Iris Drake.”
“Who?” Katie asked, sounding confused.
“That customer of yours who never buys anything over a couple of bucks.”
“Oh yes. The woman we talked about the other day.”
“Have you seen her?”
Katie shook her head. “She’s usually one of the last customers to leave at the end of the day. I’ve helped close for the past few days, and she wasn’t there. I think Rose may have mentioned the fact that she hasn’t shown up these past few days. Why do you ask?”
Gilda sighed. “She came to my shop on Wednesday. While there, a little boy pulled off her wig.”
“Does she have bad hair?”
“She doesn’t have hair at all, I’m afraid.”
“Really?” Katie asked, aghast.
“I looked up the condition on line. She may have alopecia, which seems likely as she doesn’t have any eyebrows, either.”
“Wow. I can’t say I’d ever met anyone with that ailment, but I’ve seen pictures of some beautiful women who aren’t afraid to show off their lack of hair.”
“I’m afraid Iris isn’t one of them. After it happened, she took off like a bat out of hell. She hasn’t been back.”
“Wow,” Katie said again.
“Iris left a bag of stuff. I’d like to make sure it’s returned to her, but I don’t know how to contact her. She isn’t listed in the online phone book.”
Katie continued to march, looking thoughtful. “We have a list of people who’ve signed up for the Artisans Alley mailing list. We send a postcard out at Christmastime which doubles as a ten-percent-off discount card. I could do a search to see if she’s on the list.”
“Would you please?”
“Sure thing. I’ll do it as soon as I get back to the alley. I’ve got another circuit to make around the Square, if that’s okay with you.”
“I’ve waited four days; I can wait a little longer. Thank you.”
“No problem. If I don’t find her name, I’ll still give you a call to let you know.”
“Thanks.”
Katie gave Gilda a quick good-bye wave and started power walking once again.
Gilda returned to her store. She had a good feeling about this.
Sure enough, Katie called a half hour later. “I found her!”
“Oh, good. Let me get a pencil.” Gilda wrote down the address, thanked Katie, and hung up the phone. Next, she pulled up the Google search bar on the store’s computer and tried looking up Iris by using the address. Sure enough, she got a hit, but when she tried searching the phone number, she found it had been disconnected. Now she had a decision to make: Wait and see if Iris ever returned to claim her bag of goodies, or drive to the apartment complex down the road and return the goods to her. Since Gilda was open six days a week—soon to be seven during the Christmas rush—she could either deliver the bag before her store opened or after it closed. By the end of the day Gilda knew she’d be too tired to face that kind of responsibility.
In the end she decided to wait until her last Sunday off before the holiday schedule kicked in. And she’d have to do something about hiring help for the season.
And yet Gilda wasn’t in a hurry to call the local temp agency. Yes, she knew she was procrastinating, and yes, she knew it wasn’t in her best interest to do so. But in the back of her mind, Gilda was formulating a plan.
The only problem was … could she pull it off?
5
A Home Visit
Gilda knocked on the door of Apartment 2C and waited. She looked around the landing. The carpet was in desperate need of a shampoo, if not replacement. Scuffs around the baseboard meant it hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint in at least a decade. Gilda knocked again and this time heard footsteps advancing from within the apartment. She glanced up at the peephole, sure she was under Iris’s scrutiny.
“Iris. It’s me, Gilda. Please open the door.”
No answer.
“You left your bag of treasures in my store. I want to return it to you.” She held it up in hopes Iris could see it.
“Leave it on the floor and I’ll get it later,” came the muffled reply.
“I really would like to talk with you,” Gilda persisted.
“I don’t want to discuss what happened the other day.”
“That’s not why I’m here. I want to buy more of your things, but we need to talk face-to-face to complete the deal.”
Silence.
Gilda waited at least a minute before she tried again. “Iris, please talk to me.”
More silence. Then, finally, Gilda heard the chain being removed from the door, and the handle turned.
Iris was dressed in a pink paisley caftan, her head swathed in a coordinating turban. She crossed her arms over her chest and sniffed, looking like she might break down. “I guess you can come in,” she muttered, and stood to one side of the door.
Gilda entered the spotless apartment, which was tastefully decorated with pretty prints of pastel roses on the walls, and shabby chic white slipcovers on the couch and wing chair. A distressed coffee table looked like it had been a successful DIY project. Bookshelves not only housed a collection of tomes, but an assortment of eclectic sculptures and other art. Had they, too, come from Artisans Alley?
“You have a lovely home.”
Iris shrugged, not meeting Gilda’s gaze.
“May I sit down?”
Again, Iris merely shrugged.
Gilda took the wing chair, setting the bag down on the floor beside her. “I didn’t think I should open the packages until you and I could go through the contents together.”
“I appreciate that,” Iris said, still standing off to one side.
Gilda shrugged out of the sleeves of her jacket and then gestured for Iris to sit. She perched on the end of the couch.
Without further ado, Gilda unwrapped the first package, setting the paper on the table. Iris scooped it up, and started smoothing out the creases. Gilda turned the small pottery vase around and around, admiring the shimmering glaze. “It’s very pretty. I’ll bet it would look nice with some of those little crepe paper flowers like the one I bought from you last week.”
“I guess,” Iris said, still smoothing the piece of paper.
Gilda set the vase on the table and reached for another of the bundles. It took a good half hour for her to unwrap and inspect everything Iris had brought to her shop, and she was so impressed with the selection she decided to purchase every piece.
“You don’t have to buy any of it,” Iris muttered. “You’re only doing it because you feel sorry for me.”
“I’m a businesswoman,” Gilda said firmly. “I only buy supplies I can use in my work. Do you have any more?”
Iris frowned. “I’d have to go th
rough my stash, but I could probably come up with another bag’s worth.”
“Great. Let me know when you do.” Gilda wasn’t sure how to approach what needed to be said next. She thought about it for long seconds, and then decided to just go ahead and say what was on her mind. “You’re right. I do feel sorry for you, Iris. It appears you’ve had a tough time and I would like to help you out.”
“I don’t take charity,” Iris said bitterly.
“And I’m not offering it to you. But what I can offer you is a job.”
Iris looked suspicious. “Doing what?”
“Waiting on customers. The Christmas rush is about to start. I’ve already got a dozen orders to fill, which I can’t do when I’m dealing with customers and it’ll just get worse before the holidays. I need someone to work the register while I’m busy with commissions.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
Iris pointed to her turban. “Because of what’s under this.”
“Nonsense, although, it does look as though you’re in need of an updated wig. I would be very happy to help you out with that, too.”
Iris’s cheeks darkened, and she bit her bottom lip. “What’s the salary?”
“A dollar over minimum wage. And, I probably can’t offer you regular employment after the holidays, but I can offer you an occasional half day or so here or there.”
Iris seemed to mull it over. “I don’t know. When the snow comes, the sidewalks leading to Victoria Square aren’t always plowed.”
“There’s a bus that runs between your complex and the Square. True, it doesn’t run as early as my shop opens, but we could adjust your hours to compensate for that. And, I did some asking around. It seems several of the vendors at Artisans Alley live in this complex. You might be able to catch a ride with one of them. I’m sure Katie, the Alley’s manager, would be glad to help out in that respect.”
Again, Iris frowned. “I don’t know.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t give you a lot of time to consider the offer. If you’re not interested, I’ll have to phone Parma Temps to find someone else. I need help in the store beginning this weekend.”
“You really are pushing me,” Iris said bitterly.
“I’m sorry. Honestly, I know I left it ’til the last minute to fill the position because I hoped you’d come back to the shop of your own volition.”
Iris seemed to squirm. “I thought about getting a retail job. In fact, I’ve been obsessed with thinking about it. It’s just.… Over the years I’ve received a lot of ridicule because of….” She let the sentence trail off. “Opening myself up to more is frightening.”
“Apparently there’s nothing you can do to alleviate your condition, but you can bolster your self-esteem with a new wig. And as I mentioned, I’m willing to help.”
Iris looked at Gilda with suspicion once more. “Why? Why would you do this for a virtual stranger?”
Gilda answered without hesitation. “Because I like you.”
Her answer seemed to shake Iris.
“Now, let’s settle on a price for all these wonderful tchotchkes, and then give me your decision on whether you’ll accept my offer of employment.”
Iris sighed. “I don’t have to think about it. Offer me what you think is fair for the stuff on the table; I need the money.” Her lower lip trembled and for a moment Gilda thought she might burst into tears, but then Iris seemed to summon some inner strength. “And, yes. I would like to come work for you. When do I start?”
Gilda smiled. “Friday.”
6
A Workable Arrangement
Gilda’s Gourmet Baskets had never looked so pretty. Although Gilda didn’t personally celebrate Christmas, you wouldn’t know it by the transformation in her shop. And most of the credit had to go to Iris, who had a definite flair for decoration. She’d taken everything Gilda had used during her first two holiday seasons in business, reinterpreting them, and making Gilda proud.
Iris, too, had been transformed with a flirty blonde wig cut in a pixie style, reminding Gilda of a much younger Shirley Jones. And was she dating herself that she still remembered the Oscar-winning actress from her Partridge Family days?
It was on Iris’s fourth day at the store when Gilda emerged from her workroom behind the retail shop just as the bell over the door tinkled and a pink-cheeked Katie Bonner entered, fresh from her fourth or fifth circuit around Victoria Square.
“Good morning,” Gilda greeted her.
“Hi! I just came in to take a look at your decorations and maybe bum a cup of that fantastic holiday coffee blend.”
“Mooching?” Gilda said, eyeing Katie with a wry smile.
“Of course not. I just thought I’d taste test it one more time and buy at least a pound. Andy loves it as much as I do and I’d like to give him a treat.”
“Uh-huh,” Gilda said, but stepped over to the coffee pot to pour a cup for her friend.
Iris was bent over the table that served as a cash desk, checking over an inventory sheet.
“Iris, have you ever been formerly introduced to Katie Bonner, the owner and manager of Artisans Alley?”
Iris straightened. “No, but we’ve spoken many times.”
“Iris, this is Katie; Katie—Iris.”
“I’m glad to finally know your name,” Katie said, and offered her hand to shake.
“Me, too.”
“So, how do you like working here, Iris?”
Iris ducked her head, and a flicker of a smile creased her lips. “I’ve only been here a few days, but so far I’m really enjoying myself.”
“She’s an enormous asset to me,” Gilda said with pride. “Already we’re working like a well-oiled machine.” She waved a hand at the decorations. “Iris is responsible for the holiday spirit not only here, but in The Perfect Grape, next door.”
“It looks enchanting,” Katie said, taking in the shop.
“Iris suggested moving some of the displays around so that more merchandise could be available for the customers to peruse. She’s also great with the customers. I’m so going to miss her after the holidays.”
“I’ll miss the work, too,” Iris lamented.
“But, Iris is going to begin a new career in the new year,” Gilda said with some pride.
“Oh?” Katie asked, and took another sip of her coffee.
“Iris is going to become a picker.”
“Oh?” For a moment Katie looked puzzled, but then she seemed to remember exactly what the term meant. “Are you going to work for antique dealers—looking for merchandise?”
“It’s a possibility. Gilda seems to think I might be good at it.”
“She most certainly is. I only hope that she’ll still give me the first look at whatever she acquires and will still consider working for me on the odd day when I’ll need a break.” She lowered her head and lowered her voice. “And let me tell you, that day is coming very soon.”
Katie and Iris both laughed, but then Iris became all business. “Can I ring up that pound of coffee for you?”
Katie’s grin remained. “Yes, please.”
“You’re in luck. Today we’re giving away a chocolate spoon with every coffee purchase.”
“It is my lucky day,” Katie said, digging into her pocket where she came up with a crumpled ten dollar bill. Iris completed the transaction and handed her the change and a pretty brown sack that had been decorated with embossed, glittery rubber-stamped images in holiday motifs—another of Iris’s touches.
“Now if you ladies will excuse me, I hear customers milling in The Perfect Grape. I’d better see if Conrad needs any help.”
“Take your time,” Gilda called, looking a little smug. When Iris was out of earshot, she turned back to Katie. “Can you believe my luck in finding Iris?”
“I can’t get over how much younger she looks without that,” Katie lowered her voice, “horrible wig.”
&
nbsp; “And she seems so happy. Working has been so good for her. She needed to get out and be among people.” Gilda paused, and bit her lip thoughtfully. “I wonder if we couldn’t ask the other merchants to consider hiring her when they need some assistance during the year. I know Sue Sweeney will be crying for help before Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, and Easter. Iris is so dedicated, and has such wonderfully creative ideas.”
“Be careful, Gilda. You might just lose your helper altogether,” Katie warned.
“It would be sad, but if it helped Iris get back on her feet, I’d be all for it.”
Katie drained her cup. “You’re an old softie, Gilda.”
“You could be accused of the same,” Gilda countered.
Katie shrugged. “Maybe.” She disposed of her cup, grabbed the bag with the coffee, and headed for the door. “See you!”
Gilda waved after her friend. In the background, she could hear Iris talking to one of the Perfect Grape’s customers. She had a feeling that not only were her husband’s and her customers destined to have a Merry Christmas, but so was Iris.
Gilda smiled to herself. “Mazel tov, Iris.”
Don’t Miss …
Life on Victoria Square
THE BROKEN TEACUP
Katie Bonner needs a pick-me-up one cold and gloomy fall day, and the US Mail delivers—literally. A mysterious package arrives at Artisans Alley with her name on it, but the return address is obscured and the treasure inside, a beautiful bone china teacup, is broken. Before Katie can open the accompanying card, she’s called away and one of the vendors mistakes the package for trash. Katie makes a quick rescue, but the card is gone. Who sent the cup? What is its significance? Can Katie solve this mini mystery?
If you enjoyed A BASKET FULL OF BARGAINS, don’t miss … The Broken Teacup!
ORDER IT NOW!
About the Author
The immensely popular Booktown Mystery series is what put Lorraine Bartlett’s pen name Lorna Barrett on the New York Times Bestseller list, but it’s her talent--whether writing as Lorna, or L.L. Bartlett, or Lorraine Bartlett—that keeps her in the hearts of her readers. This multi-published, Agatha-nominated author pens the exciting Jeff Resnick Mysteries as well as the acclaimed Victoria Square Mystery series, the Tales of Telenia adventure-fantasy saga, and now the Lotus Bay Mysteries, and has many short stories and novellas to her name(s). Check out the descriptions and links to all her works, and sign up for her emailed newsletter here: http://www.lorrainebartlett.com
A Basket Full of Bargains Page 3
