“I’m glad you stopped by.” Lily decided to be polite and friendly. She wouldn’t stoop to petty competitiveness, and yet she stole glances at her window display, her sale racks, and her customers. She counted five women in the shop. How many were in Flo’s boutique?
“I heard all about the kitty.” Flo strode over to the cat, who sat sphinxlike on a table of scarves, and gently patted her head. “She’s adorable.”
“But I thought you might not like cats.”
“Did Chris tell you that? I love cats. She’s the one who doesn’t like animals. She’s my sister’s kid and, well, my sister invested heavily in my business.” Flo seemed about to add something more, perhaps to say That’s why I hired Chris, not because she’s great at her job, but she pursed her lips.
“I didn’t realize,” Lily said. “If you ever want to pet the cat, please feel free. Come in anytime.”
“You’ve got some absolutely lovely pieces.” Flo strode to a blue floral Hawaiian dress. “This is Alfred Shaheen?”
Lily nodded, surprised. “How did you know?”
“I love vintage Hawaiian, but I’ve never trusted myself to know which clothes will sell and which aren’t worth their salt.”
“Really? I’m not always sure, either. It’s hit and miss.”
“Like anything, right? I should take more risks with my inventory, but…the economy is so fragile these days.”
“I can relate to that. But I see you’re offering clothes on consignment now.”
“I’ve got to ride the waves of the future,” Flo said, coming up to the counter. “But I never know what I’m doing.”
“I don’t, either,” Lily said.
“Still, we keep moving forward.”
“We do.”
Flo shook Lily’s hand. Her bejeweled fingers were long, cool, and firm. “This was a long time coming, honey. I should’ve met you long ago, but the truth is, I’ve envied you.”
“You’ve envied me?”
Flo waved her hand. “Oh, you know, the whole quaint cottage look, the little vintage sign in the yard, all the bells and whistles, and I’m stuck in a square brick building right on the sidewalk.”
“But you have customers traipsing in and out all the time, and the addition—”
“The addition wasn’t my idea. It was my landlord’s. He might be preparing to kick me out and move one of his other businesses into the space. But right now, it’s all going up under the pretense of helping me out and letting me expand.”
Flo had a landlord? “That’s not a nice thing for him to do,” Lily said.
“Maybe I can talk some sense into him. I’m good at talking people into things. But I came to ask you something a little crazy.”
“What do you mean?” Lily imagined that Flo would ask her to close up shop and leave, or—
“Do you want to join forces? I don’t mean literally. But we could coordinate our advertising, have our sales together—it could bring in double the business. I’ll send people your way, you send people mine. I could carry a few of your things, you carry a few of mine?”
Lily gaped, at a loss. She had expected Flo to come in exuding swagger and confidence, but not this. “It’s an idea,” she said slowly. “But you’re not around too often.”
Flo looked at her fingers, which had begun to tremble. “I’ve been a caregiver for my mom in hospice. But…she hasn’t got much time left.” She looked up at Lily, her eyes dark with sadness and resignation. “When she’s gone, which will be very soon, I expect I’ll have more time again.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lily said, her throat dry. She looked around at her shop, at the care she had taken to arrange the lighting, the mannequins, the displays, all to rival the beauty of The Newest Thing. All this time, she’d had no idea what was really going on. “Why don’t you stay for a while, and we can talk? I’ve got some herbal teas, and there’s a soft chair over there in the corner. You could take a break and put your feet up on the ottoman.”
The immaculate Florence smiled and shrugged off her coat. “I would love some tea, chamomile or lemon would be fine. And I take a little honey, too, a spoonful if you’ve got some.”
Chapter Thirty-six
Kitty
Lily and Flo have become buddies now. If Flo isn’t rushing over here with something to say or something to bring, Lily is racing over to the other shop. Flo sends her customers to Lily for alterations. Lily sends people to The Newest Thing. Many more people come in to see “the cat,” and I have to groom my fur far too often, what with all the petting.
I play my dutiful role, pawing at the appropriate dress or suit or vintage wedding gown. People gasp and say I’m an enchanted cat, able to see into their souls and show them what they need. That much is true, since I’m descended from the ancient Egyptian cat goddess, Bastet.
I can also see what Lily might face when she finishes altering the Homecoming dress. She slips the blue Cinderella gown into a garment bag.
“All done,” she says to me. “Bish is going to love this new look. What do you think?”
I sit upright and stare at Lily, trying to tell her what I know is coming. But she turns around and leaves the shop. What else can I do? I sit in the window and watch her truck disappear around the bend. Sometimes, humans must discover the truth for themselves.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Lily
Lily had transformed the Cinderella costume into a one-shoulder A-line evening dress in royal blue. With each step, Bish would reveal one tantalizing leg, and yet the hem nearly reached the floor, keeping it formal. Lily had sewn ruffled flowers along the bodice and up over the shoulder strap, and as a final touch, she had added a flowing sash. Simple, yet elegant.
She zipped the dress into a garment bag and tried to keep to the speed limit on the drive through town. What would Ben say when he saw her? He’d called her the morning after their night together. He said he missed her, wanted to see her again, only he wasn’t sure when he could get another day off. Now she was full of anticipation, checking her face in the mirror, her hair.
When she arrived at the Cole house, Ben’s truck was gone, and an unfamiliar silver Mercedes Impressor sat in its place, nose against the garage. Before Lily turned into the driveway, she already knew to whom the car must belong. She could keep on going, drive right into the ocean, but instead she parked behind the Mercedes, draped the garment bag over her shoulder, and strode up to the front door. Head high, shoulders square. Deep breath, nothing to worry about, she thought. Maybe Ben had bought a new car. The Mercedes could be his or it could belong to anyone—a friend, a client.
No, there was no way around it. The car belonged to Altona. Maybe it would be best to go home, stop by after Altona had gone, but Lily rang the doorbell and waited. Her nose was cold. The sun peered out from behind a wispy cloud, stark rays reaching across the rooftops at a sharp angle. A dry wind blew dead pine needles across the mossy lawn. What was she doing here? She already felt like an intruder.
The muffled thud of footsteps approached in the hall. The door opened a couple of inches, revealing a woman’s large blue eye and curly dark lashes. Lily hadn’t expected Altona to answer the door.
“Can I help you?” she said in a mellifluous voice, opening the door a little more. Her lips were full and red. She stood a couple of inches taller than Lily, and she emitted the scents of baby powder and lavender.
Don’t be a coward. “I’m here to see Bish.”
“You must be Lily.” The door opened all the way, and Altona stepped back into the foyer and smiled. Her hair tumbled past her shoulders in a cascade of rich mahogany. She wore one of Ben’s plaid flannel shirts—white and pale blue to match her eyes. The shirt extended down to her thighs, revealing bare, Barbie doll–perfect legs that ended in shapely bare feet. Her toenails were painted sparkling pink. Close up, Lily could see a smattering of delicate freckles everywhere on her skin—on her neck, forearms, thighs, nose. The shirt was buttoned to just above her breasts. Somewhere in
another room, a clock ticked, and Lily smelled frying eggs and heard faint classical music playing on a stereo—Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto, but she couldn’t recall which one. And she heard the tumble and click of clothes in a washing machine.
“Is Bish here?” She felt suddenly like a vampire waiting for an invitation across the threshold.
“They’ll be back soon. Come on in. I have to get back to the eggs.” Altona held the door open with one hand, a spatula in the other.
“I should come back later.”
“Why don’t you come in and wait? Bish said you might stop by this morning.”
“Might? I told her I would for sure. But really, I don’t want to disturb you—”
“You’re not disturbing anything.”
Lily stepped inside, somehow frumpy and diminished in her running shoes, slacks, and sweater, although Altona was not even dressed. She reached past Lily to close the door.
“Maybe if you just tell Bish—”
“Then they had to stop by the clinic. Ben had an emergency, as usual.” Her voice ended on a bitter note.
“I understand.”
“Follow me. You can wait in the kitchen.” Altona was already gliding back down the hall, beckoning Lily with the spatula. Lily watched Altona’s calf muscles moving, a slight swing in her hips.
“Smells good,” Lily said in the spacious kitchen. She tried to sound cheery.
Altona rushed to the iron pan on the stove and flipped the omelet. “The key to a good omelet is to whip the eggs well before you pour them into the pan. Mince the garlic and then chop the onions into small pieces.”
“You must be a professional.” Lily stood awkwardly, the dress still over her shoulder.
“I’m far from professional. I only cook when I’m home.” A gold band flashed on Altona’s ring finger. Was this really happening? Were she and Ben together again? Had she moved back into the house? “Oh, I’m rude. Would you like some coffee, tea?”
“I’m fine.” All the joints in Lily’s body felt as though they were dissolving.
“So you made a Homecoming dress for Bish,” Altona said. “That was nice of you.”
“She wanted a flapper dress that we found at an estate sale, but somebody else got to it first. Bish was disappointed. So I promised to find another dress for her.”
“She didn’t tell me that.” Altona stopped flipping, held the spatula suspended for a split second, then lifted the frying pan and slid the omelet onto a plate.
“I’m sure she planned to tell you.”
“She tends to omit things. Oh, the eggs will be cold by the time they get back. Typical.”
Typical? Was it typical for a mother to abandon her daughter and then return months later and act as if she’d never left? “I should go. Maybe Bish can come by the boutique, and I’ll—”
“Why don’t you show me the dress?” She turned off the stove, washed her hands.
“Right now? Here?”
“Go ahead. I’m dying to see it.”
Lily unzipped the garment bag and carefully extracted the dress. Altona caught her breath. “Oh, my, that’s lovely. The perfect color for Bish.”
“I want to make sure it fits. I made a bunch of changes.”
“It’s a good length, but the slit on the side—”
“It doesn’t reveal much.” Lily glanced at Altona’s bare legs. “The alternative was a very short dress.”
“Oh, I know, the girls are wearing mini-skirts this year.”
“Exactly, and I thought this would be a little more elegant.”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“Thank you. My husband made it, originally.”
“I heard he passed away. I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound surprised. Had Ben told her? What else had he told her? “You picked the right dress for Bish. Reminds me of something I want to show you—follow me.”
She led Lily deeper into the house, toward the master bedroom. They passed Bish’s room, the door open. The black cat lay asleep on a plush comforter, and Lily caught a quick impression of a busy teenager’s bedroom: posters of heartthrobs on the wall, including a big-haired boy who played a vampire in a wildly popular movie; books and a computer on the desk; a few ribbons and trophies; clothes and shoes strewn about.
“I didn’t take the photo albums when I left,” Altona said. She opened a closet at the end of the hall. On the top shelves were folded linens; on the bottom were photo albums. She ran her fingers along the spines, pulled out a red album. “Come and see.”
Lily went over and stood next to her. The photos were arranged in chronological order: Bish as a baby, with a young, handsome Ben holding her, smiling down at his swaddled baby; the three of them together in the yard; Bish on a swing set; Bish in a bubble bath; Ben pushing her on a bicycle with training wheels. It was the story of a family, which showed Bish getting older, her hair getting longer, and finally there was a picture of Bish in a beautiful, shiny blue dress.
“Graduation from middle school,” Altona said. “More of a little girl dress, but it’s the same blue. It was always her favorite color. Now she doesn’t fit into that dress anymore.”
“She looked so beautiful.”
“Yes, she did.” Altona shut the photo album and put it back in the closet. Then she stood and looked at Lily. “She gets more beautiful as she gets older.”
“She certainly does. Well, I should be going.” The air had become oppressive, full of the memories of a family in which Lily did not belong. “Bish can try on the dress later—”
“Maybe tomorrow? I’m taking Bish shopping today,” Altona said, following Lily back down the hall.
Lily went back to the kitchen for the dress. “She can call me.”
“Do you talk to her a lot? I mean, does Bish tell you things?”
“Excuse me? Depends what you mean by things.”
“About boys she likes, what she’s up to at school? That kind of thing?”
Lily shook her head. “She probably prefers to talk to her friends.”
“Does she talk about me?”
“Just that she misses you.” This wasn’t a lie, exactly. Bish had shown Lily the jade bangle. Altona supposedly wore a matching one, but Lily didn’t see it on her wrist.
“I miss her so much, too. Sometimes you have to get away from a situation to realize that you miss it.”
“I suppose so,” Lily replied. How could she make a graceful escape?
“I had to go clear to Hong Kong to realize how much I missed this little island. It’s so serene, quiet. The birds, the clean air.”
“It is a beautiful island.” Oh, Lord, give me the strength to walk out of here.
“And this house. I got so sick of it, you know?” Altona pressed her hands to her temples. “I felt like I was going to explode.”
“I can understand that. Sometimes we need a change of scenery.”
Altona rubbed her temples now. “But it wasn’t just that. It was family. My family. There are the little things that you miss. Breakfast, for example.” She gestured toward the cooling eggs on the countertop. “I have many things to work out, regrets. But who knows if we can go back in time?”
“I’ve wondered the same thing myself.” Lily’s voice wavered. Now she knew, for sure, that she couldn’t take this route forward, no matter what. “Look, um, I really need to get back to my shop.”
Altona stood. “Of course. I’ll let Bish know you came by with that beautiful dress. I’m sure we won’t find a better one.”
Lily was already heading for the door, but she stopped and turned around. “A better one?”
Altona ran her hand down the front of Ben’s shirt, over her flat belly. “For the Homecoming dance. I told her I would buy her one at Nordstrom. A perfect Homecoming dress. I owe her that much. Lace, chiffon, matching pumps, tiara, corsage. The works.”
“The works.” A sour taste filled Lily’s mouth.
“But you’ve already made her such a beautiful dress. I can’t imagine why sh
e would want anything else. Why would she?”
“Yes, why would she?” Then Lily was out the door, gunning the engine out of the driveway so fast, she nearly crashed into Ben’s approaching truck in her haste to escape.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Kitty
Lily returns to the shop in a whirlwind, still carrying Bish’s blue dress in the bag. Did Bish not like the thing? I don’t blame her. Clothes never appealed to me. I’d be happy to turn the gown into a warm bed. Lily takes the dress out of the bag, brandishes the scissors, and almost cuts into the hem, but then she seems to change her mind and tucks the scissors back into the drawer.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did I think I could fix a dress for Bish? Why did I think Altona would never come back? Why should it matter?”
What is she going on about? What happened out there? Must’ve been worse than I expected.
She puts that clock sign on the front door, the one that indicates she’ll be back later. But she doesn’t leave. I follow her upstairs, where she wipes the makeup off her face, including the black smudges under her eyes. I push my head against her to comfort her, and she pets me absentmindedly. Then she goes to the closet and brings out a box. I recognize what she’s taking from inside—they’re called photo albums. Lily is turning the pages, telling me about the pictures, so I pretend to look at them and try not to yawn.
That must be her mate, the one whose spirit flits around in the shop. In the photos, he’s easy on the eyes, for a human.
“Here we are up at Mount Rainier,” she says, pointing to a picture of her and the man, with a bunch of white stuff in the background and a few trees. They’re both smiling, their noses red. Her nose is red now, too, from crying. “Here we are at a theater fundraiser.”
And on and on. She ignores her cell phone, which keeps ringing. Not like her to ignore a call. Not like her to ignore the regular shop phone, either. Finally there’s a banging on the door, and we both go downstairs to answer the door. The doctor comes in, running his fingers through his hair. He forgot to put on a jacket—his shirt and pants are damp.
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