“Lie, dearest.” She patted the backs of my cold hands with her warm, withered ones. “Madeline used to lie like a silk rug whenever someone caught her keeping her little secrets.”
My lips parted, a defense poised on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t form the words. She nodded sagely, and her face crinkled into a toothy smile that showed off her white dentures.
“It’s okay, angel. We all have our little secrets. Especially in Wilmington.” She winked as if we were sharing a joke and turned away.
I was barely able to return her wave before she disappeared into the mass of bodies on the sidewalk. The bamboo chimes rattled as the door swung closed. How had I not heard them when she’d walked in? Of course, a much more important question was: What in the hell’s she talking about?
Miss Hester and Mimi had gone to school together and were friends in that casual “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine” style of amity that a lot of women professed; but had Miss Hester known my grandmother well enough to know she kept secrets? That Mimi did have secrets was obvious. She kept mine better than I did, and her mannerisms were so reserved I had no doubt she harbored her own. I’d just never given any thought to what they might be. And what was Miss Hester’s comment about Wilmington supposed to mean?
I felt like I should be taking notes and arranging them on a board like police on crime shows. Actually, that might not be a bad idea. I wished I could tell Eileen what was going on. She was much better at getting to the quick of things than I was. Her intuition was sharp like a harpoon while mine was a net casting for emotions and impressions.
Eileen. I glanced at the computer. Almost eleven, and no customers yet. It’d only been an hour since I’d talked to her, but I needed to hear her voice. Whether a sign of codependency or maternal instincts, I dialed.
She answered on the first ring. “Are you going to call every hour?”
“Hey to you, too.” Touchstones weren’t supposed to be sassy. “Still reading?”
“Yep.”
“Which book?”
“I’m online. Alternating versus direct currents. Notes are due Wednesday.”
“Good girl. Anything I can help with? Do you need the library?”
“Everything’s online, Mom.”
“Oh, right . . . ” I wanted to be with her. I should be with her. My shakes had settled into quivers, but I was still so cold. “I guess I’ll let you go.” I needed to find something to do. Something real. Something useful. The world hadn’t ended last year, and no matter how unfathomable things seemed right now, the world wasn’t gonna end just because I didn’t know what the hell was going on.
“Love you, Mom. Wish you could come home.”
Ah, my child. “I love you, too, sweetheart.” I hung up, feeling better. Still cold. Still overwhelmed. But I could deal.
Ruminations
Another hour later, I had to admit that I wasn’t dealing well, in spite of my concerted efforts. I’d dusted, vacuumed, helped some tourists in search of clothes with local flavor, and emailed two sales reps to ask what was taking so long with sending next season’s samples. But, I’d also knocked over a display of scarves, suctioned the hem of a dress into the vacuum, and had to explain to three strangers that my random shudders were only due to being freakishly cold-natured. Pretty sure the redhead thought I was contagious, ‘cause she’d passed around a tube of hand sanitizer as they’d left. I was also fairly certain I’d been snippy in my emails, but it was April already, so I didn’t feel too badly about that one. Adding another location was going to make both reps pretty happy.
I was wrestling with the garment steamer when the chimes rattled again. It was Maureen and Phil.
“Hey there! Been busy?” she asked.
“Not y—” Damnation. I’d spilled water all over the floor. Coordination while spasmodically shivering? Not so much.
Phil laughed, but Maureen gave me the once over.
“No offense, but you don’t look so good. Still not sleeping?”
“No? No. I’m just not myself today.” Screwing the cap back on the water tank took two tries. “Y’all are early. I’ve only been here two hours.”
“We wanted to make sure you weren’t swamped. Are you worried about Eileen?”
“No more than usual.” I tried to laugh, but it sounded forced even to me.
Phil peered at me. “She’s right, kid. What’s wrong?”
I rolled my eyes, but was surprised to find they were wet. I swiped the back of my hand across my face once and made a show of grimacing. “Allergies. Dusted a little while ago.”
“You don’t have allergies.”
“Everybody has allergies.”
“Lila, you can fess up or shut up, ‘cause you aren’t crying from dust.” He crossed his arms on his chest and settled into his stubborn look.
I glared back. Why the hell were my eyes watering?
“Geez, Phil.” Maureen waved him away. “Not exactly helpful.”
“Both of you! I’m fine. Really!”
“Lila, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. We just care.”
“Y’all are sweet, but I’m really fine!” Not convincing enough. “Just one of those days, I guess.” Better. “My mind’s been on things I’d rather not think about.” Ain’t that the truth. Unfortunately, my attempt at a grin squished a rather large tear from each eye.
“Oh, honey!” Maureen hooked one arm through mine. “We all have those days. Even when we have Mr. Perfect.” She smirked at Phil, who gave her a toothy grin. “Why don’t you switch with me? I’ll stay and you can work tomorrow afternoon.”
“Yeah, kid. Do that.” He tweaked my chin and I swatted his hand.
“Stop calling me a kid, Grandpa.”
“Yeah, Gramps.” Maureen smacked her husband on the butt. “Go find the mop.”
“Would rather be a dirty ol’ man, but if you insist . . . ” He winked at her and then shook his finger at me. “You. Missy. Go home
