The Wells Brothers: Blue

by Angela Verdenius

Inside, she stood to the side and glanced around, chewing her bottom lip a little indecisively.

  Almost immediately a voice from within the depths of the shop asked, “Looking for something in particular?”

  “Phoebe,” Charley answered in relief. “I need help.”

  “Oh, honey, you finally admitted it.”

  “Har-de-har har.”

  “Your openness about it warms my heart.”

  “Your comments, they make me laugh.”

  “Laughing at one’s mistakes is so freeing.”

  “Freeing is finding a dress for tonight.”

  “That’s my cue.” Phoebe appeared from behind a rack of assorted shiny blouses.

  The woman never failed to make Charley smile. Phoebe’s greying hair was bundled up in a lop-sided bun, a pen stuck out the top of it like a sagging ship mast, and her slacks almost dragged on the carpet, the hem saved from the floor by the platform sandals she wore. Her blouse draped across an almost non-existent bosom that didn’t phase Phoebe one bit, nor did she care that the blouse was low-cut and hung off her bony shoulders.

  Phoebe didn’t seem to have a certain style of dress, sometimes appearing more like a housewife from the sixties, other times bordering on hippie, while being impeccably groomed the next time you saw her. Phoebe had a style all her own, and it was simply whatever took her fancy.

  In keeping with this, the clothes in her shop reflected a wide variety of styles and sizes, from petite to plus-size, from soft to brassy, from sleek to wild child. Leather jackets weren’t far from satin boleros, while leather pants were racked beside neat pants suits. Split skirts stood proudly beside peasant style skirts, with primly pleated skirts right next door, while sloppy cardigans nodded amicably at the smart two pieces.

  Going into Phoebe’s shop was akin to entering a wonder world of clothes, and most days she was busy with all sizes and ages of women coming and going through her doors.

  “Tell me what you need.” Phoebe paused, stuck one finger in the air, and pursed her today-painted-dark-red lips. “No. Tell me what you want.”

  Charley glanced around. “Today I need a dress that will impress.”

  “Slutty?”

  “Geez. I mean impress a gathering of business people.”

  “Business suit.”

  “Dinner.”

  “Ohh, hoity-toity.”

  “Very possibly.”

  “Hence the need and not a want.”

  The woman knew her too well. Charley followed her between the racks. “Hey, I might want something hoity-toity, did you ever think of that?”

  Phoebe just cast her a wry look over her shoulder.

  Charley’s eyes widened. “Hey, when did you get a tattoo on your shoulder?”

  “I’ve had it forever.”

  “Liar. I’d have noticed.”

  “Last week.”

  “It’s a baby angel. Aw, sweet.”

  “Cherub. I’ve got a baby devil on my hip.”

  “That’s disturbing.”

  Phoebe flashed her a grin. “Story of my life. Angel on the outside, devil on the inside.”

  “Whatever makes you sleep better at night.”

  “Who says I sleep at night? Some of us have better things to do than just sleep all the time.” Stopping at a rack, Phoebe started going through the dresses.

  “Baying at the moon?” Charley glanced over the dresses. “Running naked along the highway?”

  “I’ve run naked in the moonlight, but never bayed at it.”

  “Really?”

  “Honey, I’ve done things in my youth that would make your hair curl.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Let’s just say I never regretted a second of it. Now,” Phoebe cut her gaze to Charley, “you may have regrets.”

  “From my youth?”

  “You’re not old yet.”

  “Are you saying you are?”

  “I’m saying someone is getting perilously close to a slap.”

  Charley laughed.

  Phoebe gave her a hard look. “What I’m saying is that youth is fleeting, life is fast. You need to fill it with good things, not keep trying to impress others who don’t deserve it.”

  “Come on, Phoebe, Gary isn’t that bad.”

  “He’s not that good, either.”

  “He’s different.”

  “Sometimes different is good.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And sometimes different just needs to be stomped on.”

  “Okay, moving right on to the dress…?”

  Giving her head a little shake, Phoebe returned to the garments in question.

  Charley breathed a silent sigh of relief. Her friend had no problem with airing her opinion about Gary, and normally Charley could laugh it off, but just lately… With another silent sigh, she returned her attention to the dresses.

  “Now, how about this?” Phoebe pulled a gown from the rack and held it up.

  Oh yes, it was pretty. Powder blue with a slit up the thigh. “Not really me.”

  “It’d make Gary look.”

  Not in a good way. He wouldn’t want to see her thigh bared for all to see, that’s for sure. She wasn’t even certain he wanted to see her thigh. Ever.

  Maybe in the dark.

  “You’re frowning. Frowning isn’t a good sign.” Phoebe put the gown back, pulled out another. “How about this?”

  “Do you have anything that isn’t going to show my chubby bits?”

  “You don’t hide your curves, honey, you display them.”

  “My curves are more generous than most people want to see.”

  “Gary tell you that?” Phoebe huffed.

  Gary, in fact, didn’t mention anything about Charley’s curves.

  “Proves my point,” Phoebe said at her silence.

  “Which is?” A flash of yellow caught Charley’s attention and she reached out to touch a gown peeking out from behind the shelter of a crisp, white satin sheath.

  “Men like curves. Gary isn’t a man.”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s got the dangly bits that deem him male.”

  “Real men like curves.”

  “Those real men aren’t beating my door down.”

  “So you’re making do with Dangly Bits Gary?”

  “Phoebe-”

  “Because that’s all sorts of wrong. All sorts of wrong.”

  “Phoebe-”

  “I’m telling you, honey, there’s a man out there somewhere who’ll like you not just for your curves, but for you. In fact, the right man won’t care if you have curves or a skinny arse, he’ll think you’re gorgeous just the way you are.”

  “Gary hasn’t said he doesn’t like my curves.”

  “Has he pinched your arse?”

  No. He’d never pinched or caressed her generous bum. “He’s never been anything but a gentleman.” Which was better, right? It meant he respected her. “He respects me.”

  Phoebe stared at Charley for a very long five seconds before shaking her head.

  “Can we please just find me a dress?” Desperate to get her friend off the subject of Gary, Charley pulled out the yellow gown.

  She couldn’t hide her gasp of delight as she held it up. It was beautiful. Bright yellow, spaghetti straps, fitted bodice dropping into a full, flowing skirt that draped down elegantly.

  “Ah!” Phoebe’s eyes lit up. “Now that’d be prefect.”

  But it was too bright. Charley chewed her bottom lip as she surveyed the sunshine-coloured dress. Man, she loved yellow. Loved the colour of this gown, loved the style, but her shoulders weren’t slim and elegant, they were soft and round, and her waist, though small enough to give her a generous hour-glass figure, wasn’t anywhere near dainty.

  “It’s your size.” It was as though Phoebe could read her mind.

  “The colour-”

  “You love yellow.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Gary doesn’t.” Phoebe threw up her hands. “Is Dangly Bi
ts Gary going to wear it?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Is he paying for it?”

  “I am.”

  “So why is he getting such a big say?”

  “He’s my boyfriend.”

  “Does he dress to please you? Does he only wear what you deem correct?”

  “No. But that’s not the issue.” Regretfully, Charley started to return the dress to the rack. “It’s a dinner to impress his business partners.”

  “And this dress will impress. You’ll shine in it.” Grabbing it, Phoebe hooked her hand through Charley’s elbow and dragged her to the fitting room. “Try it on.”

  “This is a waste of time-” But I want to so bad.

  “Try it on.” Throwing open the fitting room door, Phoebe unceremoniously shoved Charley inside and threw the dress at her.

  “Phoebe!” Fumbling, Charley caught it to her chest.

  The door slammed shut. “Try it on. Now.”

  Charley looked from the gown to the door and back to the gown. It was pretty, so pretty. The material was satin on top, the flowing skirt a lacy overlay atop the satin. Bright yellow.

  Okay, she could just try it on. Why not? Have one peek before she sought something more sedate. Just to appease Phoebe. Besides, it might not even fit properly.

  Charley rolled her eyes as she undressed. Who was she kidding? She was dying to try on this sunshine dress.

  Minutes later, she looked in the mirror and sighed. Sooo pretty, and it fit so well. The satin bodice cupped her breasts and skimmed her waist, the skirt falling so sweetly down over her legs to barely skim the floor. The pair of black high heels and the little yellow satin clutch she had at home would be a perfect match. Now all she needed was-

  “Here! Catch!”

  It was all the warning she got before something soft and white flew over the stall door to land on her head.

  Holding it up, she saw it was a very dainty, thin, lacy shawl. Draping it across her shoulders, she amended silently - white clutch, white high heels.

  “See?” Phoebe called out. “Yellow for you and white to tone it down for Dangly Bits Gary. What’s not to like?”

  Considering her reflection in the mirror, Charley chewed her bottom lip. The white lace shawl did tone the yellow down, no doubt about that-

  “No thigh split to shock his prudish senses,” her friend continued. “Come on, Charley, you know you want it.”

  Well, yes. In fact, she loved it. But…

  “Vrrroooooommmm!” Phoebe roared. “Know what that sound is, Charley?”

  “A car? And why?”

  “It’s your youth flashing by. One day you’ll be old and wrinkled and decrepit, and all you’ll be thinking was ‘I could have had that lovely yellow gown’. You want to be that old lady, Charley? Or do you want to be the old lady that says “I had that gown and damn, I loved it!’”

  Geez, who could argue with that? “Sold.”

  Chapter 2

  Leaving her shoulder-length hair loose, Charley pinned a side lock back with a white flower-adorned pin before stepping back to survey her reflection critically.

  Soft pink lipstick, a swipe of mascara, a trace of eye shadow. No need to apply blush to her already pink-tinted cheeks, the warmth of summer had done that naturally. A little pair of imitation pearl earrings and matching imitation pearl necklace and bracelet finished off the jewellery.

  Giving herself a last spritz of perfume, she took a deep breath as the doorbell rang. Draping the shawl around her shoulders, she picked up the white satin clutch, slid into the white high heels and strode down the corridor to the front door.

  Swinging open the door, she smiled at the fair-haired man standing on the other side. “Hi.”

  Gary started to smile. “You look lovely…” His voice trailed away as he took in her gown.

  Uh-oh.

  “Yellow?” he asked.

  “I found it today, isn’t it lovely?”

  “A little bright, isn’t it?”

  Quickly stepping out, forcing him to back pedal or be trodden on, she shut and locked the door. “Lucky, as it’s the only decent gown I’ve got for fancy dinners.” Smiling brightly, she waited.

  Yep, there was no way for him to ask her to change now.

  The disapproval was plain in his eyes before he shuttered it away, kissed her on the cheek and took her elbow with that ever-present polite smile. “The white tones it down a bit.”

  “It does go well together, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Without another word, he steered her over to the Mercedes Benz he prized so much, sitting her in the passenger seat with his usual politeness before going around to slide elegantly behind the steering wheel.

  As the expensive car pulled onto the road and headed for their destination, Charley cast a sideways glance at Gary, wondering for the hundredth time why he chose to date her. They didn’t move in the same circles, yet he seemed drawn to her. No doubt about it, she was flattered that a man of his ilk was attracted to her, but sometimes she wondered because in the short time they’d been dating, he’d rarely done more than kiss her cheek. Certainly never held her with anything like passion. Heck, he’d never gone further than seeing her to her front door. So why? She never asked, though, that would be crass, plus he’d see it as fishing for compliments. Heck, she wasn’t that far down in confidence that she’d go fishing for compliments.

  Besides, it wasn’t as though she wasn’t worth dating.

  “So,” she sought to break the silence, “where exactly is this dinner?”

  “The Balaside Restaurant.”

  “Wow, swanky.”

  “It is high class, yes.” He slowed the car, checked the traffic before pulling onto the main road.

  “So I gather your boss is going to be there?”

  “I’m in line for partnership,” Gary replied.

  “So that’d be a ‘yes’?”

  He cast her a sidelong glance. “Of course.”

  Feeling stupid, Charley cleared her throat and tried again. “Is it a big gathering? You know, a lot of partners?”

  “There are three partners and their wives.” He hesitated.

  Obviously he wanted to say something further but didn’t quite know how to broach it. Curiously, she watched his profile while smoothing her hand over the little satin clutch in her lap.

  “I know you’re not used to these high class places,” Gary began carefully.

  She gave a small laugh. “You got that right!”

  He actually winced, which dried her laughter right up. A horrible feeling crept through her and she bit her lip. Oh no, did he think she’d embarrass him? They hadn’t been going out together for long, but this was the first time he’d brought her to an important gathering. “Gary, I’m not a complete idiot. I do know how to act in company.”

  “Of course you do,” he said. Reaching out, he gave her hand a quick squeeze followed by a reassuring smile. “I never doubted it.”

  “Really? Because you seem a little…I don’t know. Mortified?”

  “Darling, you’re being ridiculous.” He laughed softly. “Are you, perhaps, feeling a little inadequate? Overwhelmed?”

  “A little nervous, yes, but-”

  “You’ll be fine. The wives will be there, I’m sure you’ll have a lovely chat.” He winked, his handsome face amused. “Just don’t discuss the day-to-day affairs of the nursing home.”

  “I wouldn’t anyway,” she replied stiffly. “That’s confidential.”

  “Good. Take your cue from them, just be careful what you say and the evening will be fine.” He reached out, flicked a switch on the radio, classical music quietly filling the car. “Now relax. We’ll be there soon.”

  Folding her arms, Charley turned her head to watch the buildings flash past the window. Damn, is it me that lacks confidence? Am I looking for spooks where there aren’t any? Maybe I am feeling out of my depth.

  With a sigh, she fiddled with the clutch, already wishing the evening was over.
Right now, she’d much prefer to be curled up with a movie and a bowl of popcorn than be dressed in a gown which clearly didn’t suit Gary’s taste, and wondering what the evening held.

  Think of it as an experience, Charley.

  All too soon, the car pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. The parking bay was full of expensive cars, while taxis lined up not far away.

  Charley reached for the door handle, only to stop when she felt Gary’s gaze on her. Removing her hand, she waited as he got out, walked around the car and opened the door, sliding his hand beneath her elbow to assist her from the car.

  Grinning, she said, “I’m more used to helping others to stand.”

  “Not when you’re with me,” he replied smoothly. “Or in the company of my friends.”

  It should have sounded reassuring and loving, yet somehow came out more an order.

  Geez, Charley, get a grip and stop looking for the dark clouds! She linked her hand through the crook of his elbow as he beeped the locks. “Ever the gentleman.”

  His smile this time was definitely approving.

  With the self assuredness of a man used to such surroundings, he led her up the stairs and into the restaurant, stopping at the Maitre de’s little podium to give his name.

  Impressed by the elegant richness of the surroundings, feeling decidedly out of her depth, Charley looked around. The local pub or ‘every day’ restaurant was more her style, the high class of this one was way beyond her experience.

  The Maitre de led them to a large table in the middle of the room where six people already sat with two chairs left empty. As he seated them, she smiled at the occupants. Unfortunately, she was so busy trying to appear as though she did this every day that she jumped when the Maitre de suddenly appeared beside her to flip the napkin across her lap.

  “Oh, sh- geez! I mean, thanks.”

  “My pleasure, Madam.” He inclined his head.

  Charley glanced at Gary, who stated smoothly, “This is Charlotte. Charlotte, this is my boss, Willard Lackey and his wife, Jessica.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Charlotte.” Willard nodded to her.

  “Pleasure,” Jessica added.

  “Oh, please call me Charley. Everyone does.”

  “Charley,” Jessica echoed. “How quaint.”

  “Oh, not really,” Charley returned cheerfully. “Dad always wanted a son, so when I was born he wanted to still call me Charley. Mum insisted on Charlotte as a way of meeting in the middle, so to speak.” She winked. “Luckily Dad didn’t mind having another girl after all, or I’d probably have had to have a sex change!”