Enchanting Lily

by Anjali Banerjee

  “Calm? She wasn’t like this in my shop. She was running all over the place, chasing a moth. She damaged my wedding dress.” She hadn’t meant to say that last part about the dress. She didn’t want to reveal anything about herself, but now she felt as if her entire history was written on her face.

  He looked at her. “Cats bring us down to earth, force us to reevaluate our priorities.”

  She had no idea how to respond. He knew nothing about her except that she owned a clothing store and a damaged wedding dress. Who was he to judge her? “My priorities are just fine, thank you. Can we hurry this up? I need to get back.”

  He opened the cat’s mouth and checked her teeth. “She’s older than she looks. Maybe nine, maybe ten. She’s a senior cat.”

  “A senior, great.” The poor thing could die at any moment, and didn’t old cats have all kinds of health issues?

  “She grooms herself well but long-haired cats need extra help. They need regular brushing.”

  “Tell that to her owner.” Lily knew she sounded rude, but the doctor’s attitude chafed her. She hadn’t anticipated a full medical workup for the cat. She hadn’t planned to be here at all. She had no time to brush an animal. She could barely remember to brush her own hair.

  He put the cat on the floor and allowed her to explore. “She may not have an owner. She may be a stray.”

  “Either way, she’s not mine. Can we do only the basics? How much will all this cost? I mean, this is the last thing I expected—”

  “We’ll do our best to accommodate your financial constraints.”

  Her face flushed. Financial constraints? Who did he think he was? She imagined picking up the glass jar of pet treats and whacking him over the head. “I have no financial constraints,” she said, a lie. “But her owners will have to reimburse me. They’re probably looking all over for her. If you can’t keep her, I guess I have to take her to the shelter.”

  His expression didn’t change, but a muscle twitched in his jaw. He jotted something in the chart. “It’s your decision. However, you could keep her for now and post flyers. If she’s lost, and someone tries to claim her, they should be able to identify her.”

  “I wish I could do more for her, but I’ve got a lot on my plate. I’ll pay to get her brushed and cleaned up, and then I’ll take her to the shelter.”

  “Fine. Suit yourself. I’ll be a few minutes.” He scooped up the cat and went out into the hall without looking back. The door slammed behind him. So this was a good plan. The basics and no more, and then she would be done with the cat.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kitty

  On the drive back to the shop, we stopped in at Meow City, where I cringed in the carrier until Lily hurried me back out to the car. She couldn’t bear to abandon me among the imprisoned. It took the entire journey, with a stop at the pet supply store, for the alarming smells and sounds to fade from my mind.

  Back in the cottage, the spirits have concentrated into a dense mass. A young woman, who died in a violent accident, clings to a floral dress that belonged to her daughter. How can she know that her child long ago passed into the next realm?

  Lily shivers a little. She turns up the thermostat, then tries to confine me to the kitchen, but my voice and my claws scratching at the door prove too much for her.

  “This situation is temporary,” she says as she opens the kitchen door again. I run out into the hall. The spirit of her former mate slides along next to her shadow, occasionally blending into the darkness and then slipping away. Another spirit hides out of sight, the one that has lingered here for eons. Lily stops and looks around, her brows furrowed, then rubs her arms and shivers again.

  “Cold pockets,” she says to me. “Maybe the place is haunted. Wouldn’t that be my luck? And what am I going to do with you?”

  I sit on a threadbare rug and watch her while she calls one shelter, then another, and then another one farther away—trying to find a way to get rid of me.

  “Everyone’s full. Unbelievable. Oh, stop staring at me that way, as if I’m betraying you. How am I going to get anything done when I have to watch you?”

  I turn away and trot up to sit in the empty front window. Fascinating, the commotion in the shop across the street. After a while, Lily drags a statue, clad in a soft orange dress, toward the window and props it on the wide ledge next to me. She places a pair of glittery shoes and a handbag next to the statue, then arranges another plastic woman on the ledge, this one wearing a shiny blue gown.

  “Who can resist vintage silk?” she says, grinning. “I can do this, can’t I, kitty?”

  I lick my paw.

  She peers outside and frowns. “What are they doing over there? How did they come up with that? A mannequin lying on her side in a winter coat? The Newest Thing, my foot.” She looks at her own display. “Maybe I need a winter scene, too. How do I find a mannequin that can lie on its side that way? But this is what people are dreaming of, right? A summer night on the town?”

  Someone is shuffling up the sidewalk, stopping to peer in at me. Oh no, it’s Ida. She’s coming this way. I run to hide beneath a rack of black dresses.

  “Could this be a customer?” Lily says, her eyes lighting up. “There, you see? My display is already working.”

  Horror of horrors, Ida shuffles in, without George this time, but I catch a disgusting whiff of Fifi.

  “So this is where the white kitty lives!” Ida exclaims. “I saw him in the window.”

  “Actually, she’s a girl,” Lily says. “She just showed up. Is she yours?”

  “I wish she was. She’s beautiful. I can’t believe I never stopped in here.”

  “I just opened,” Lily says, hurrying after Ida, who is browsing now, touching this and that.

  “You’re a little off the beaten path.” Ida looks across the street at the comings and goings in the other shop. Then she smiles at Lily. “But now that I’m here, I’ll look around.”

  “Please do.”

  Please don’t.

  “I’m in a buying state of mind. What can you show me?”

  I’m going to have to stay hidden, as Ida might be here for a while.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lily

  Lily looked around at her messy shop, bewildered. This doughy woman hadn’t been drawn by the window display. She’d come to see the cat. Some deep need emanated from her, a desire that had long lain dormant. If she were to walk into The Newest Thing, what would happen? Chris would look up and nod at her, then return to her smartphone. Or maybe she wouldn’t look up at all. Ida would browse in complete anonymity. But here in Past Perfect, Lily could step in to help. She could make a difference. But how?

  “I’ve got some lovely dresses,” she said. Her voice came out rusty. She cleared her throat. “If you’re looking for a dress, that is. Are you?” Oh, she sounded ridiculous. If only she could erase her words and start again.

  The doughy woman tapped her chin with a chubby forefinger, in which a gold ring was deeply embedded. “Maybe a dress. I was supposed to come here for something. The kitty called to me, not in words, but you know…” She glanced down at her jeans, the shapeless kind with an elastic waist; and at her sensible, rubber-soled shoes. She wore an oversized, baggy polyester shirt beneath her sagging jacket. It was as if she were looking at someone else, some body that she could not recognize as hers.

  What would Josh have done? What could Lily do? She could make a personal connection, so she reached out and shook the woman’s cool, soft hand. “I’m Lily. Maybe if you tell me more about what you’re looking for, I can help you.”

  “I’m Ida,” the woman said, withdrawing her hand, “and I’m looking for, oh, I don’t know. Something pretty and unique.”

  The cat tiptoed over and rubbed against Lily’s legs, and in that instant, she heard the words that Ida didn’t say. I’m looking for happiness. I’m looking to stop time. I’m looking not to get any older or fatter than I already am. I’m looking for my husband to look at me
the way he used to. I’m looking for the impossible.

  Across the street, The Newest Thing’s window scene had grown more elaborate, with snow and ski poles and a sprinkling of flakes on the mannequin’s coat. A new neon sign winked on above the door. Ida glanced across the street, her eyes bright. “Maybe I should just…” she began.

  “Just?” Lily followed Ida’s gaze. A young woman came out of The Newest Thing carrying a large shopping bag. She glanced across the street at the mannequins in Lily’s window, looked right and left, then crossed the street at an angle toward the Island Creamery.

  Lily looked over at the cat, who sat in an elongated, rectangular sun spot near a shelf of silk scarves. If the cat had been visible in the window, would the girl have braved coming over? Maybe Lily should’ve bought a cottage closer to the curb, without a garden to traverse between the sidewalk and the porch. It was almost as if some invisible barrier prevented people from coming up to the door—unless, possibly, they saw the cat.

  But the cat wasn’t going to stay. The shop would have to speak for itself. Lily would have to help Ida on her own. Something pretty and unique. A shape. Hope. The impossible.

  “I have an idea for you.” Lily brought out a yellow and black chiffon dress that tapered in at the waist. “I’m not sure about the size, but I have a feeling it will highlight your beauty.”

  Ida’s face lit up. “Beauty?” She seemed to hold on to the word as if it were a life jacket keeping her afloat.

  “Yes, um…” Lily looked over at the cat, who was busy grooming her face. Her fur shone silver in the pale autumn sunlight. “The cat pointed this one out.”

  Ida’s eyes widened. She glanced at the cat, then whispered to Lily, “The kitty talks to you? I knew it.”

  “Well, she doesn’t talk, exactly, but we communicate by…squinting. Yes, squinting. The cat squints at a dress—”

  “And you have to pick it!”

  Lily nodded, feeling foolish for lying. “This is a silk chiffon sunshine dress from the fifties. Grecian style with the pleated bodice. The back zipper was probably added later.”

  Ida flipped the dress over. “How interesting about the zipper. So the cat thought this would make me beautiful?”

  “Highlight the beauty already inside you.” There, that sounded better. “Each piece is one of a kind, so I don’t have other sizes.”

  “I’m not worried.” Ida winked at the cat, as if the two shared a secret, then lumbered toward the fitting room. When she finally came out, the dress had transformed her in an indefinable way.

  “Heavenly,” Ida said, standing stiffly in front of the mirror. She had begun to take shape. She curved in at the waist. She had discernible cleavage. Her ankles showed. They were surprisingly thin.

  She sucked in her belly, puffed out her chest. “You can fix the waist, can’t you?”

  Such a thing could be done, but the dress needed more fabric. “That kind of silk is hard to find these days.”

  “Can’t you order it in?”

  “It would be difficult. Dress fabrics aren’t like shades of paint that you can mix. The colors won’t match up.”

  Ida rested her hands on her hips, then let out a long breath. “Ah, well, maybe I could buy the dress as is. I’ll lose weight. I’ll go on another diet, but not that Atkins one this time.”

  Lily knew diets rarely worked. What needed to change was one’s lifestyle. Grief could work wonders, for example, to help a woman grow thin. “It’s entirely up to you,” she said.

  “Let me think about it.” As Ida went back to change, Lily wondered if she should have tried harder to make the dress fit. Could she have offered alterations, but what would she have done about matching the fabric?

  Ida stayed in the dressing room so long, Lily began to worry. Finally the door squeaked open, and Ida shuffled out, still in the dress, her face red. “I’m afraid I can’t, um, get this thing off. The zipper is stuck.”

  “Turn around. Let me try.” Lily pulled at the zipper, but the dress seemed fused to Ida’s body. “No dice, I’m afraid.”

  Ida’s chin trembled. “Try again.”

  Lily tried again and again, without success. A cool breeze wafted over her, although the door was shut. The hair rose on her arms. “We’ll figure this out,” she said, stepping back. “Maybe try pulling the dress up over your head?”

  “I tried that. It’s stuck on my hips.”

  Lily had been certain the dress would fit. She tried the zipper several more times. Ida tried pulling off the dress to no avail.

  “There’s one thing we can do, but it’s a bit radical,” Lily said finally. The cat sat upright, nose to the air. Her ears twitched as she looked around, then she shot an upward glance at nothing.

  “What do you have in mind?” Ida said, her eyes pleading.

  “Stay here.” Lily headed back to the office, her heart pounding, and rummaged in her desk drawers. She grabbed a pair of fabric scissors and returned to the shop. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t see an alternative. I’m not sure how to go about doing this, but I’m going to try to cut this dress right off you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kitty

  “That went well,” Lily says as we watch Ida hurry off down the path. “She’ll never come in here again. Everyone in town will hear about how I had to cut the dress off her, and my shop will be closed in no time.” Her eyes brighten with tears.

  What can I tell her? That an unhappy spirit may have been responsible for this small disaster? As Ida hummed in the dressing room, an inky presence, the one that has been here a long time, seeped under the door and cast its spell on her. When she came out, the dress was too tight. The dark spirit lingered, then slipped away into the ether.

  Now the other ghosts grow restless in the gray evening as Lily rearranges her shop. “I really tried to help Ida in a way that she could never be helped in The Newest Thing. You know, kitty? Now all I’ve got are scraps of cloth on the alterations table. No more chiffon dress. But I’m not giving up.”

  Fine with me.

  She carries piles of clothes from one place to another, hangs up dresses, adjusts the statues in the window. I’m content to sit on a pile of men’s neckties, absorbing the layers of life and death shifting through the room.

  Finally, Lily goes off to bed, and when the house is quiet and dark, my world comes alive. My legs begin to itch. I tear around, my claws scrabbling on the hardwood floor. I bat at dust motes and leap at moths flitting outside beneath the porch lights.

  “Kitty! What are you doing?” Lily is up now, coming after me. She’s nearly tripping over the cuffs of her pajamas. Interesting hairdo, as well. “I can’t believe you woke me up at this hour.”

  I tumble down the stairs and veer into her office, jump onto the desk, and knock some paper onto the floor.

  “Are you crazy? What’s wrong with you?” She follows me into the kitchen. She flips on the light, and I squint in the sudden brightness. A ball of dust requires my attention—

  “Kitty, no! Don’t eat that.” Lily is bending down to pull the dust from my mouth. She throws the clump in the garbage. Then she sits in the breakfast nook, head in her hands.

  My insides feel funny; oh no.

  “Are you throwing up? Oh, kitty!”

  Can’t help it, I’m heaving, but I feel better now.

  “I can’t believe this is happening.” She’s flipping open her cell phone, pressing buttons. “Oh, Dr. Cole. I’m so sorry I woke you. I thought I would get the emergency…This is Lily Byrne. It’s the cat. She threw up. What should I do?”

  I’m hiding under the table.

  Lily is listening, then she says, “Tomorrow? But I’m afraid she’s ill, and I can’t have anything else die on me.”

  I can almost feel his surprise. I’m a bit surprised, too. He says something, and then Lily says, “You’re coming here? I’m on Harborside Road. I’m sorry, I know—thank you.”

  She hangs up and bends to pet me. “Don’t throw up again, plea
se.” In her eyes, I see the reflection of my face staring back at me, my elegant whiskers, tufted ears. I also see the depth of her worry. I feel her soul softening, her face close to mine. I can’t help lifting my chin and then just barely, I touch my nose to hers.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lily

  When had Lily last entertained a guest? Before Josh’s death, and never so late at night. She barely had time to put on a robe and slippers, brush her hair, and wipe up the vomit before she heard a knock on the back door. How had Dr. Cole arrived so quickly?

  The cat ran to the door, but when Lily opened it, the poor thing took one look at the vet and dashed away.

  “She wasn’t scared of you at the clinic,” Lily said, shaking her head. “Maybe she senses something different.”

  Dr. Cole stood on the porch, unsmiling, a black veterinary bag in hand. He looked almost human in an open windbreaker, blue sweater, jeans, and hiking boots—the way he’d looked in the bookstore. Except for the scowl.

  Lily stepped back and ushered him inside. “Did you have trouble getting here?”

  “Took a wrong turn in Seattle, ended up in Portland, but eventually I found my way.”

  Was this his brand of humor? “You must’ve driven at the speed of sound.”

  “Or light.” He took in her robe and slippers, a slightly irritated look on his face. Should she have donned an evening dress?

  “Come on in. I appreciate you driving here in the middle of the night.” She pulled the robe closed. She hoped the necklace didn’t show. She didn’t want to have to explain about the ring and the vial.

  He wiped his hiking boots on the mat, then stepped past her, closing the door behind him. He looked toward the kitchen. “Where did she go?”

  “She must be hiding. Do you think she might’ve eaten something bad?”

  “I have to see her first. You could’ve put her in the carrier.”

  “I didn’t realize she would run from you.” Was there no other veterinarian in this town? Someone more like James Herriot?