“We’ll see,” I told her, and held my hands behind my back so I wouldn’t choke her.
I retrieved my purse and turned in my locker key, and I walked out the back door for the last time.
I went straight to the grocery store. I wanted something for lunch, I wanted something to put in the refrigerator at the house on Honor for snacks while I was there. I zoomed through the grocery store tossing boxes and produce bags in my cart with abandon. I celebrated quitting my job by getting one of the really expensive microwave meals, the kind with a neat reusable plate. This was getting fancy for me, for lunch anyway. Maybe now I would have time to cook. Did I want to learn to cook in any more detail? I could make spaghetti, and I could make pecan pie. Did I need to know anything else? I debated it as I stood in front of the microwave at the town house.
I could decide at my leisure. I was now a woman of leisure.
I liked the sound of it.
The woman of leisure decided to celebrate by buying a new outfit to wear to the Rideouts’ party. I would not go to Great Day, I decided; I’d share the wealth and go to Marcus Hatfield instead. Usually Marcus Hatfield made me nervous; though it was a mere satellite of the big Atlanta store, the selection was just too great, the saleswomen too aggressively groomed. Maybe my contact with Marcia was inuring me to immaculate grooming; I felt I could face even the cosmetics-counter woman without flinching.
I pulled my skirt straight and stiffened my spine before I entered. I can buy anything in this store, I reminded myself. I marched through the doors in my hopeless librarian’s outfit. I was almost immediately confronted by a curvy vision in bright flowers, perfect nails, and subtle makeup.
“Hey, neighbor,” exclaimed the vision. It was Carey Osland in her working getup. I could see why she preferred loafers and housedresses. She looked marvelous, almost edible, but definitely not comfortable. “I’m glad to see you,” Carey was saying warmly while I was decoding her identity.
“Good to see you, too,” I managed.
“Can I help you today?”
“I need something new to wear tonight.”
“To the sun-deck party.”
“Yes. It’s so nice of the Rideouts to be giving it.”
“Marcia loves to entertain. There’s nothing she likes better than to have a bunch of people over.”
“She said she didn’t like it when her husband had to be away overnight.”
“No. I expect you noticed she drinks a little then. She’s been like that as long as I’ve known her, I guess… though I don’t know her very well. She knows a lot of people around town, but she never seems to be close friends with anyone. Were you thinking of a sports outfit or did you want a sundress, something like that?”
“What?”
“For the party.”
“Oh, sorry, I was off in the clouds somewhere. Um… what are you going to wear?”
“Oh, I’m too fat to wear a sundress,” Carey said cheerfully. “But you’d look real pretty in one; and, so it wouldn’t be too dressy, you could wear flat sandals and go real plain on your jewelry.”
I looked dubiously at the dress Carey had pulled out. Mrs. Day would never have suggested it for me. But, then, Mrs. Day didn’t carry too much like this at her shop. It was orange-and-white, very pretty but very casual, and there wasn’t a back to it.
“I couldn’t wear a bra with that,” I pointed out.
“Oh, no,” Carey agreed calmly.
“I would jiggle,” I said doubtfully.
“Go try it on,” Carey said with a wink. “If you don’t like it, we have all kinds of cute shorts sets and lightweight pants, and any of them would be just fine, but just put this dress on.”
I had never had to almost completely undress to try on clothes before. I pulled on the dress and bounced up and down on the balls of my feet, my eyes on the dressing-room mirror. I was trying to gauge the amount of jiggle. I am chesty for such a small person, and there was enough jiggle to give me pause.
“How is it?” Carey called from outside my cubicle.
“Oh…I don’t know,” I said doubtfully. I bounced again. “After all, I’m going with a minister.”
“He’s human,” Carey observed. “God made bosoms, too.”
“True.” I turned around and observed my back. It looked very bare. “I can’t carry this off, Carey,” I told her.
“Let me see.”
I reluctantly opened the door of the cubicle.
“Wow,” said Carey. “You really look
“I just feel too conspicuous. My back feels cold.”
“He’d love it.”
“I don’t know about that.”
I looked in a bigger mirror at the end of the row of dressing rooms. I considered. No, I decided finally. I could not go out in that dress with someone I hadn’t slept with.
“I’m not going to wear it tonight, so I still need to find something else for that,” I told Carey. “But I think I’ll buy it anyway.”
Carey became the complete saleswoman. The orange-and-white dress was whisked away to be put on a hanger, and she brought several more things for me to try on. Carey seemed to be determined that I wanted to present a sexy, sophisticated image, and I became sorry I hadn’t gone to Great Day. Finally we found a cotton knit shorts and shirt that represented a compromise. The shirt was scoop-necked and white with red polka dots, and the red shorts were cut very full, like a little skirt, with a long tie belt that matched the shirt. I certainly had a lot of exposed skin, but at least it wasn’t on my back. Carey talked me into red sandals and red bracelet and earrings to match before I called a halt to my shopping.
When I carried my purchases back to the town house, I called Aubrey at his church. “Who’s calling?” the church secretary asked, when I wanted to be connected to Aubrey.
“Roe Teagarden.”
“Oh!” she said breathlessly. “Sure, Roe, I’ll tell him. He’s such a nice man, we just love him here at St. John.”
I stared at the phone for a second before I realized I was being given a boost in my assumed effort to win the heart of their priest. The congregation of St. John’s must think it was time their leader married again, and I must be respectable enough at first glance to qualify as a suitable mate.
“Roe?”
“Hi, Aubrey,” I said, shaking myself out of my thoughts. “Listen, would you meet me tonight at the house on Honor instead of picking me up here at the town house? I want to feed the cat before the party.”
“Sure. Are we supposed to bring anything? A bottle of wine?”
“She didn’t want me to bring anything to eat, but if you want to bring a bottle of wine, I imagine they’d be glad.” A nice thought on Aubrey’s part.
“This is casual, right?”
“It’s going to be on their sun deck, so I’m sure it is.”
“Good. I’ll see you at your new house at seven, then.”
“That’s just fine.”
“I look forward to it,” he said quietly.
“Me, too.”
I got there early, and pulled my car all the way inside the carport so there’d be room for Aubrey’s. After tending to Madeleine’s needs, I thought of the clothes still in Jane’s drawers. I’d cleaned out the closet, but not the chest of drawers. I pulled one open idly to see what I had to contend with. It turned out to be Jane’s sleepwear drawer. Jane had had an unexpected taste in nightgowns. These certainly weren’t what I’d call little-old-lady gowns, though they weren’t naughty or anything like that. I pulled out the prettiest, a rose pink nylon, and decided I might actually keep it. Then I thought, Maybe I’ll just spend the night here. Somehow the idea struck me as fun. The sheets on the bed were clean, changed by the maid hired to straighten everything out after Jane had gone into the hospital. Here
