was tall and beautiful and dressed like a supermodel.
“Those run small,” she told Marie when she wanted to try on a size three pair of Calvin Klein stretch jeans. “Designers design for anorexic girls or little boys,” she said. “And thank God you don’t look anything like a boy.” She handed Marie a size five.
Darby Hogue showed up in the shoe department as Marie tried on a pair of Steve Madden clogs with a five-inch wedge.
“I told Darby I’d help him pick out some shirts,” Caroline said, and if Jane didn’t know better, she would have sworn her friend blushed a little. Impossible, because Mensa nerds with flaming red hair were not Caroline’s type. She liked them tall, dark, and free of pocket protectors.
Caroline pointed Marie to black boots with big silver buckles on the sides. “These will look fabulous with that camo skirt and belt you bought.”
Personally, Jane thought the boots were hideous, but Marie’s eyes lit up and she said, “Boo-ya!” Which Jane assumed was good. Once again, listening to a teenager made Jane feel old. To counterbalance the feeling, she tried on a pair of rope sandals with two-inch heels.
She sat next to Darby as she strapped them on. “What do you think?” she asked him as she pulled up the legs of her jeans and looked at the sandals from different angles.
“I think they look like scarecrow shoes.”
She glanced over at him in his favorite silk skull shirt and leather pants and considered the source.
He leaned over and said next to her ear, “I need you to put in a good word for me with Caroline.”
“No way. You insulted my sandals.”
“If you get me a date with her, I’ll buy you the shoes.”
“You want me to pimp for you?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
Jane glanced at her friend, who was at the Ralph Lauren table eyeing a pair of slides. “Ah-yeah.”
“Two pair.”
“Forget it.” She took off the sandals and shoved them back into the box. “But I’ll give you a few pointers. Lose the skull shirt and don’t talk about Mensa.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
When they finished in the shoe department, she and Marie rode the escalator up to lingerie, while Caroline and Darby headed to the men’s department.
Jane and Marie were loaded down with bags as they found racks of bras.
“What do you think?” Marie asked as she held up a lavender lace bra.
“It’s pretty.”
“I bet it’s uncomfortable, though.” She tilted her head to one side. “Don’t you think?”
“Sorry, but I’m not going to be able to help you here. I don’t wear bras. I never really have.”
“Why not?”
“Well, as you can see, there isn’t much need. I’ve always just worn camisoles or a bandeau or nothing at all.”
“My mom would have killed me if I wore just a camisole.”
Jane shrugged. “Yeah, well, growing up, my dad didn’t like to talk about girl stuff. So I think he just pretended I was a boy for a lot of years.”
Marie flipped over a price tag. “Do you still miss your mom?”
“All the time, but it isn’t so bad now. Just try and recall all the good memories of your mother before she got sick. Don’t think about the bad.”
“How’d your mom die?”
“Breast cancer.”
“Oh.” They looked at each other over the rack of bright lacy bras, Marie’s big blue eyes staring into Jane’s, and neither of them had to say anything about watching a loved one die that way. They knew.
“You were younger than me. Right?” Marie asked.
“I was six, and my mother was sick a long time before she died.” Her mother had been thirty-one. One year older than Jane was right now.
“I still have a few flowers from my mom’s casket. They’re dried up now, but it makes me feel somehow still connected to her.” Marie looked down. “Luc doesn’t understand. He thinks I should throw them away.”
“Have you told him why you’ve kept the flowers?”
“No.”
“You should.”
She shrugged and picked up a red bra.
“I have my mother’s engagement ring,” Jane confessed. “My father left her wedding band with her, but he kept her engagement ring, and I used to wear it on a chain around my neck.” She hadn’t talked about the ring in years and what it meant to her. Caroline didn’t understand, because her mother had run off with a trucker. But Marie did.
“Where is the ring now?”
“In my underwear drawer. I put it away a few years after my mother died. I imagine you’ll put your flowers away when the time is right for you.”
Marie nodded and chose a white water-bra. “Look at this one.”
“It looks heavy.” Jane picked one from the rack and squeezed the bottom. It was heavy and squishy and she wondered what Luc would think of his little sister wearing a push-up bra. She wondered what he’d think if
“Oh, he won’t care. He probably won’t even notice,” Marie said and took four bras and disappeared into the dressing room. While Jane waited for her, she picked up the numerous shopping bags and moved a few feet away to the panties department.
Jane might not know a lot about bras, but she was a panties connoisseur. Two years ago, she’d become a thong convert. At first she’d hated them, but now she loved them. They didn’t ride up like conventional panties because, well, they were already up. While she waited, she bought six cotton and lycra thongs with matching camisoles.
Once Marie emerged from the dressing room, she placed a handful of panties and three bras on the checkout counter. The cell phone in her purse chirped and she flipped it open.
“Hello,” she answered. “Hmm… Yeah, I think so.” She glanced at Jane. “I’ll ask her. Luc wants to know if you’re hungry.”
Luc? “Why?”
Marie shrugged. “Why?” she asked him. She handed the clerk Luc’s credit card, then told Jane, “It’s his night to cook. He says since you’re coming over to interview him, he’ll throw something on for you too.”
Two things occurred to Jane at the same time. That Luc cooked, and that he must not be mad at her anymore. “Tell him I’m starved.”
Chapter 12
“It’s weird not having a yard,” Marie said, talking about the differences in her life now that she lived in Luc’s Bell Town condo. “And I don’t do laundry anymore,” she added as they stepped out of the elevator on the nineteenth floor. “That’s nice.”
“Luc does your laundry?”
Marie laughed. “No.” They moved down the hall to the last door on the left. “We send it out and it comes back all clean and folded.”
