the perfect pen for Stela.
'Ah, so you found something.' Miriam took the box from
me and carefuly peeled away the price sticker from
beneath. 'Very nice choice. I'm sure she'l love it.'
'I hope so.' I thought she would, too, but didn't want to
jinx myself.
'You always know exactly what someone needs, don't
you?' Miriam smiled as she slipped the box into a pretty
bag and added a ribbon, no extra charge.
I laughed. 'Oh, I don't know about that.'
'You do,' she said firmly. 'I remember my customers, you know. I pay attention. There are many who come in here
looking for something and don't find it. You always do.'
'That doesn't mean it's the right thing,' I told her, paying for the cards with a pair of crisp bils fresh out of the
ATM.
Miriam gave me a look over her glasses. 'Isn't it?'
I didn't answer. How does anyone know if they know
what they're doing is right? Until it's too late to change
what they're doing is right? Until it's too late to change
things, anyway.
'Sometimes, Paige, we think we know very wel what
someone wants, or needs. But then—' she sighed, holding
out a package of pretty stationery in a box with a clear
plastic lid '—we discover we are wrong. I'd put this aside
for one of my regular customers, but he didn't care for it,
after al.'
'Too bad. I'm sure someone else wil.' I wasn't surprised a man didn't want the paper. Embossed with gilt- edged
flowers, it seemed a little too feminine for a dude.
Miriam's gaze sharpened. 'You, perhaps?'
I waved the flowered paper aside and shoved my hands in
my back pockets as I looked around the shop. 'Not realy
my style.'
She laughed and set the box aside. She'd painted her nails
scarlet to match her lipstick. I hoped when I was her age
I'd be half as stylish. Hel. I hoped to be half as stylish
tomorrow.
'Now, how about something for yourself? I have some
'Now, how about something for yourself? I have some
new notebooks right here. Suede finish. Gilt-edged pages.
Tied closed with a ribbon,' she wheedled, pointing to the
end-cap display. 'Come and see.'
I groaned good-naturedly. 'You're heartless, you know
that? You know al you have to do is show me…oh.
Ohhh.'
'Pretty, yes?'
'Yes.' I wasn't looking at notebooks, but at a red,
lacquered box with a ribbon-hinged lid. A purple-and-blue
dragonfly design etched the polished wood. 'What's this?'
I stroked the smooth lid and opened it. Inside, nestled on
