to declare bankruptcy.'
'Oh, no.'
'But I want to hear about you and your mother, Katie. Is she here with you? How long will you be in Wisteria?'
'Well, actually-' A loud jingle of the bells on the door interrupted us. 'Shop's closed,' Joseph called out, then turned back to me. 'You were saying-' 'It can't be closed.' A guy about my age had rushed into the store. 'I got here as soon as I could.' He looked at me as if I might plead his case for him.
'I've got to get a birthday present.'
'Shop's closed,' Joseph repeated.
'But I know what I want. It's right over there.' He strode toward a glass case. 'The bracelet with the blue stones.'
'The lapis lazuli?' Joseph asked quietly. 'It's three hundred dollars.'
I think Joseph assumed the high price would immediately get rid of the shopper, but he miscalculated.
The guy cocked his head, as if he hadn't heard right, then bent over the case to get a closer look. 'You've got to be kidding. It's not even sapphires.'
'And this isn't Wal-Mart.'
The guy straightened up. 'Okay, okay,' he said, rubbing his hands, then glancing at his watch.
I got the feeling he had a very short deadline.
'Let's see.' He ran one hand through curly black hair. He was athletically built, a few inches taller than I, and very good-looking-if he would just stand still for a second. The room didn't seem big enough to contain his energy. I wanted to send him outside for a run.
'There must be something else here.' He moved down the long jewelry case, playing it like a piano.
Joseph sighed. 'Please don't put your fingerprints all over the glass.'
'There, that plain silver one. You put tags on your cheaper stuff. Fifty dollars, I can swing it. Wait a minute, I like that one too. Forty-five.'
He spun around, turning to Joseph, then me. I was glad there wasn't a shelf of glassware anywhere near him. 'You're a woman-sort of,' he said.
I frowned at him.
'I mean, a girl. A female. Could you help me out? I hate choosing this kind of stuff.'
He had great eyes, eyes like the shiny black stones I collected from my favorite beach on the Channel. That's the only explanation I can offer for helping this last-minute lover in his gift selection.
'Which bracelet do you like best?' he asked. 'That silver one, or the gold one with the green paint.'
'Green enamel,' Joseph corrected him.
I leaned over the case, studying them. 'The green and gold.'
'But all of her earrings are silver,' the guy protested.
'Then why did you ask me?' I replied, exasperated.
He lifted his hands, then dropped them heavily on the glass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joseph wince. The guy had strong hands, square hands, totally un artistic hands. Was it crazy to be attracted to a guy's hands?
I like the enamel one too,' he admitted. 'But since she likes silver, I was hoping you'd choose that and make it an easy choice.'
'Both bracelets are pretty. It's just that I like to wear green.'
His fingers stopped drumming the case, his hands finally becoming still. I looked up and found him gazing at my hair. He met my eyes, then perused my face-just stared at me, making no effort to pretend he wasn't.
'I see,' he said. 'Because of your eyes. Your eyes are grass green.'
Grass green?
'What I mean is pale, bright green-' Joseph shook his head.
'See-through green, like-like the plastic of a Sprite bottle.'
He seemed pleased with the accuracy of that last description. I hoped he wasn't going to compose his own gift card.
'I'll take the silver bracelet,' the guy said, turning to Joseph, pulling out his money. 'I'm kind of in a hurry.'
Joseph must have realized that a sale was the quickest way to get rid of this guy. Moving behind the counter, he took the customer's money. The guy pocketed the bracelet, leaving without a box or bag.
'You were saying,' Joseph prompted me, as the bells on the door jingled and fell silent.
'I'll be here for a while. I took a temporary job.'
'Wonderful. Where?'
'Mason's Choice.'
He looked at me surprised.
'Do you remember Mrs. Hopewell?' I asked.
'Despite my best efforts to forget her.'
'She's still there.'
Joseph sat down heavily on a shop stool. 'Why did you go back, Katie?'
The tone of his voice made me uneasy. 'Why not?'
He thought before he spoke. 'Your family didn't leave under the best of circumstances. What does your mother think of this?'
'I don't know. I haven't seen her for twelve years.'
His brown eyes grew wider for a moment.
'Victoria left us when we got to England.'
He stroked his beard with long fingers-the only part of him that had remained thin. He had been a musician, I remembered. Poor man, studying music, having to listen to Ashley and me banging on the schoolroom piano.
'I had no idea, no idea at all. Do you know why your mother left?' he asked.
I shook my head.
'What did your father tell you about the Westbrooks?'
'He wouldn't talk about them. All I know is what I remember from when I was five. For instance, Mrs. Caulfield, Ashley's aunt, couldn't stand Ashley and got along better with horses than people.'
'Still does. I heard Robyn just came back from the Florida horse-show circuit.'
'Mr. Trent,' I said, using the name for him that I had used as a child, 'was very serious.'
'Yes. He runs the business for Adrian.'
'What is their business?'
'Furniture and art. They began with a handful of local auction houses, like Crossroads, the one here on the Eastern Shore. In the last two decades they've been doing a lot of importing. Have you seen Adrian? I heard he's getting cancer treatments and they haven't been successful.'
'They haven't?' I wondered what the Westbrooks had told Patrick. 'He's coming home Friday.'
Joseph pressed his hands together and rested his mouth against his fingertips, thinking. 'Which means the vultures will be gathering. You'll have to deal with all of them, Katie.' He reached for a store receipt and scribbled down a number. 'This is the phone at my mother's house. The number printed on the top is the store's. I'll be in Wisteria for the next few weeks. Call me if you need anything.'
'I'll be all right,' I said, smiling. 'You know, I've spent a lot of time in other people's households. I've seen it all.'
'I'm sure, but why don't you check in with me now and then.'
'I don't check in with anyone,' I said, then added quickly, 'What I mean is that I'm used to being on my own. When Dad was alive, he checked in with me.'
