“May I help you?” he asked, as he walked over from the circular stairs.
“Yes you may,” I said. “I’m Jeremy Barnes.”
“Laura’s friend,” he said, with a wide grin. He put out his hand and gave me a handshake that was firmer than you might expect from someone with Louis’ slight build. “Please, come sit.”
I followed him to a small sitting area under the second level at the back of the store. Louis was wearing a pair of tan slacks that appeared to be some sort of marriage of cashmere and wool, a dark green silk shirt open at the neck, and light brown loafers that probably cost about ten times as much as my New Balances. I also noticed that his shoes matched his belt in both color and material. Denny does that a lot, too.
Louis sat on a small leather sofa and indicated that I should take the matching chair next to it. Looking towards the front of the shop, I noted that one side was devoted to women’s clothes, the other to men’s. Most of the merchandise consisted of upper-end designer labels, including a few brands I didn’t recognize, probably because the cheapest item I saw in that area was a $300 shirt.
Turning back to Louis, I said, “I like the window display.”
He chuckled and said, “Most of the year, this is a straight-up, serious clothing store, and most of my customers are just as straight-up and serious, about their careers, anyway. They’re mostly lawyers and future CEO-types. But Halloween, well, that’s a horse of a different color. A few years ago, some of my regulars started asking me to help them with costumes, which I did, and I soon discovered that the more conservative the look is the rest of the year, the more outlandish the costume the customer wants for the big Halloween party.
“Freud would have a field day,” I said.
“Wouldn’t he?” said Louis. “Anyway, by last year, Halloween was accounting for a sizable chunk of my fourth-quarter business, so I do what I can to promote the holiday.”
“Hence the window display,” I said.
“Hence the window display,” he agreed. “Plus, it’s fun. And speaking of fun, I assume you’re here for your fitting.”
“Yep,” I said. “I am.”
“Come upstairs. I have your outfit all ready.”
As we walked to the upper level, he said, “Laura gave me a pretty good idea of your size, so I don’t think we’ll have to do too much in the way of alterations. Maybe a little in the back and shoulders.”
My outfit was hanging in a small dressing room. After I’d changed, I stepped out and stood in front of Louis.
“Whaddya think?” I asked.
“I think,” he said, with a grin, “that this is a better look than that Betty and Barney Rubble thing.”
“Laura mentioned that, did she?”
“That, and your superhero fixation”
“Hey,” I said. “I happen to look pretty good in blue tights.”
He smiled, then said, “Laura told me you were funny. Did she tell you I was gay?”
“Yes,” I said, “she did. The blue tights comment was just me seeking confirmation of it, and I’m pretty sure I saw your nostrils flare a little there, Louis.”
He laughed and started working his way around me, making little chalk marks and sticking pins in various places.
“Does the owner of a place like this usually do the tailoring work?” I asked.
“Not so much anymore,” he replied. “Just in special cases. Laura’s special.”
“That she is,” I agreed. “She told me you two have known each other for about ten years.”
“Almost,” he said. “We were both teachers at Lemington Elementary. She loved it, I hated it. It took me all of one semester to reach that conclusion. Don’t get me wrong. I like kids, just not in large numbers. And anyway, this . . .” and he waved his hands around to indicate the shop . . . “this is what I really wanted to do all along. I just didn’t realize it at first, and when I did, I was afraid to take that first step. That’s where Laura came in.”
Louis had finished marking my outfit by that point. He stepped back and cast what I assumed was a critical eye on his handiwork.
“Okay,” he said. “That’s going to work. Why don’t you change and meet me back downstairs, Jeremy? I’ll make some fresh coffee and finish telling you about Laura’s role in my decision to open this place.”
Chapter 35
A few minutes later, I was back in the leather chair, sipping a cup of very good coffee, while waiting for Louis to complete a transaction up front with an attractive, well-dressed couple. After swiping the man’s credit card and getting his signature, Louis chatted with them for a minute before they left. Then he came back and sat down again on the sofa and picked up his own cup of coffee.
“That was Eleanor and Ira,” he said. “She’s a stocks analyst at McCutcheon and Davis, he’s a vice president at National City Bank. Very fashionable pair, including their wardrobes. Top-shelf all the way, but nothing too out there, if you know what I mean. But this Halloween, he’s going to be the Marquis de Sade, and she’s, well, you don’t want to know who, or what, she’s going to be.”
He smiled for a moment at the thought of Eleanor as whoever or whatever, then said, “But back to Laura. We taught across the hall from each other at Lemington, and since she had a year in the system already, she was able to give me lots of help.”
He put his cup down, sat back and crossed his legs.
“But the real help she gave me was simply becoming my friend. We ended up having coffee occasionally after school, and I ended up pouring out my heart to her, about my love life, or what passed for it in those days, about the horrible career choice I’d made, and about how what I really thought I’d like
