He would get home late. The only message Josie left said, “I really love you.”
* * *
When she entered the kitchen in the morning, Colin had already gone out. His cereal bowl sat rinsed in the sink.
Sylvie emerged from her bedroom wearing the dress Josie had stayed up late to finish sewing.
“You look radiant for so early in the day,” Josie said, noticing her mother’s face fixed with extra makeup. Sylvie was a glowing beauty in her black heels, stockings, and sheath dress.
She turned to allow Josie different views. The curves of her mother’s lithe figure were set off by the slender black linen dress, and Josie noted her eyes’ golden tint matched the highlights of her hair. Sylvie lowered her head in a pose, creating the slightest bulge beneath her jaw.
If she saw that, she probably wouldn’t eat for a week. “You look terrific,” Josie said.
“Thank you, honey. This dress looks exactly like the one I bought. You are so talented.” She pecked a kiss on Josie’s cheek. “You really ought to go to that school.” Sylvie strutted toward the back door and grabbed a black textured purse Josie hadn’t seen before.
Determined not to concern herself with a purse her mother might have bought, Josie followed her outside to see where Colin was.
Across the way, he sat on the Allens’ driveway watching Annie jump rope. Their schoolbags sat beside them like fat bullfrogs. Colin liked to jump rope and was good at it. But this morning he leaned with elbows on knees and his hands holding his face. He looked weary, even after a night’s rest.
Josie heard her mother’s heels clicking. What would happen to Colin if she did as her mother suggested and went away to study?
Sylvie pranced into the garage. Almost instantly, her car backed out, a soft purr from inside its glistening silver. She tooted at Colin and waved.
Randall Allen, in a white cotton shirt and khaki shorts, had come from his side door and was speaking to the children. Hearing Sylvie’s horn, he smiled and came across the daylilies.
Josie wondered why he wasn’t working and remembered. He had taken on that new partner.
She had considered taking the day off herself. She’d stayed up so late putting in Sylvie’s zipper and hem. Colin’s continued anger at her set stress in every room Josie entered, making her weary. But she needed to go to work. It was too late to call the woman who subbed for her on the few days she’d missed. And Josie wanted to earn the money.
Sylvie’s front passenger window lowered when Mr. Allen reached her car. “Good morning,” he called to her and Josie.
“Isn’t it a pretty day?” Sylvie asked.
“It is. Mrs. Aspen, you always look nice, but I saw you coming out today and you look exquisite.”
Brakes hissed, and Josie saw Colin scrambling with Annie to reach the school bus. At least he’d been able to muster that much energy. Mr. Fletcher, across the street, stared at them, then stooped to continue his daily pruning beneath the palm trees.
“My daughter made this.” Sylvie spoke extra loud, making certain Josie heard.
“She did?” Mr. Allen smiled at Josie above the hood of Sylvie’s car.
“Yes,” Sylvie said. “My little girl saw this designer dress and copied it perfectly.”
She and their neighbor flashed smiles at Josie, giving her a pride she seldom felt. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure.
“I had no idea you had such talent,” he told Josie, and she responded with a small shrug.
“Well, I need to go,” Sylvie said. “Both of you have a great day.” She backed the New Yorker away and Josie turned to go inside.
Motion across her back lawn snagged her attention.
Another neighbor was there. Maurice Exely, between the pale plumes of pampas bushes, stood frozen when Josie’s gaze met his.
She turned back to look for Mr. Allen, but he was already reaching his yard.
Peering again at her own, she saw only bushes. No sign remained that moments ago a man had been there. Maurice had disappeared like an apparition.
And maybe he was, she thought, reentering her house and trying to calm the jitters that swooped over her. Maybe the stress between Colin and her made her mind create threatening images.
She strode to her room. Her purse was open. The envelope she saw lying beside it was real.
* * *
Soon after Josie opened the shop, she rearranged the few items of antique jewelry that were out of place, wishing Cora Ripley would show up. Cora made funny comments. She often made Josie grin when she rolled her eyes whenever Mr. Antonelli came in with his wife and stared at Josie’s breasts. And Cora provided company when sales were slow.
“Ah, what a lovely woman you are,” Josie told the mannequin with her head cocked, reminding Josie of her mother. She reached over the hair of the simulated person and slipped a double strand of pearls on her neck. “And what a gorgeous necklace you have.”
Josie arranged the pearls so that the longest end rested below the stiff breasts beneath the lace dress, saying, “Where did you ever find this lovely jewelry?” Leaning as though listening to the parted lips painted red, Josie said, “Oh, I see. Sylvie gave it to you.”
Enjoying her game, she clasped the dummy’s cold hand. “It is so nice speaking with you.”
The door opened. Hal Ripley shuffled in looking as though his home had collapsed. Without lifting his eyes to meet Josie’s, he stared at the mannequin. “Pretty,” he said, touching the necklace she’d draped. He slipped it off the mock person.
Josie watched in wonder as her boss of two years went into the storeroom and emerged carrying empty boxes. He placed the pearl necklace inside one of them. Without explanation, he gathered collars and hats and placed them in a box.
Terrible scenes expanded in Josie’s mind. “Mr. Ripley?”
He faced away, his shoulders hunched forward so he seemed not to have any. “I’m sorry, Josie. I can’t afford any more losses.” He gathered belts, turned, and stared at her.
The meaning of his words sank through the fog in her mind. “But you can’t just shut down.”
Ripley opened his mouth, but it remained slack. He returned to his chore. More items clinked in his box. “With all of the bigger stores, we can’t keep up. That’s what Cora’s numbers tell me.” He was quiet and then added, “She’ll probably be coming in later. That’s all I need now.”
While Josie’s thoughts screamed “You can’t do this,” she joined in getting musty boxes from the storeroom and stripping away the quaint shop that provided her family’s security.
Chapter 8
Two people came into This ’n That Shop. The Antonellis.
Mr. Antonelli’s deep-set eyes seemed more sunken when he saw the store almost bare, and his wife’s small eyes expanded. “How can you do this?” she asked Hal Ripley, the same question that remained in Josie’s mind.
Ripley stared at the woman. “I have to.” He glanced at Josie, then returned to more boxes.
Mrs. Antonelli peeked inside two that were open. From one she lifted a tri-color corded belt, beginning to sniffle. “They haven’t found Libby’s killer yet.”
Her husband stared at Josie. “And where will we be finding you now?”
She felt no self-assurance to stare him down. Raising her shoulders in reply, she turned away and placed more items in one of the boxes.
Moments later she heard the store’s final clients leave.
At five o’clock Hal Ripley told Josie she could go. “But I want to help you finish,” she said, surveying the shop and surprised that it looked even smaller with most of its wares hidden in boxes.
“Cora will be coming. She’ll want to take care of incidentals.” He winced and Josie noticed a slight twitch near his right eye.
He clasped both of her hands. “I appreciate all you’ve done.” His rough palms slid from hers. “You’re an excellent employee, Josie.” His slight flirtatious look flickered and faded.
Ridiculous, she told herself. That stare and the smile he’d recently acquired could surely not be flirtation. She gave him a warm smile. “And you have been a good boss, Mr. Ripley. Thank you.”
Josie hoped to find Andrew’s bike parked outside his apartment but instead found his space empty.
At home Sylvie looked cheerful, oblivious to Josie’s mood when she arrived. “Had a nice day?” Sylvie said, not slowing her dust rag. She sprayed pine-scented foam on the kitchen table. Brisk circles of her hand made it shiny.
Josie grunted.
“Great.” Her mother’s foam went for the chair saved for Josie’s father.
Colin’s bedroom door was open. He glanced up from his textbook.
Josie raised a hand in greeting and continued toward her room.
“Josie.” The voice was small. It stopped her. Spinning, she went back to his door.
His eyes looked hooded by his brows. He swallowed. “Hey.”
She grinned. “Hey back.”
She waited for a comment about bulls and hay. None came. Her little brother’s gaze moved to the open book on his desktop but did not skim over the words.
Josie knew he wanted her out of his room. But his shield had come down and he’d spoken to her again. Her spirits lifted.
* * *
No brightness claimed Josie’s face later while she waited for Fred to complete his job, wishing the machine could heal her brother instead of only sustaining him.
Renal failure
cannot be reversed
all the literature warned.
Hemodialysis
can replace failed kidneys’ function and purify a person’s blood. Treatment usually lengthens lives.
Usually lengthens lives.
Colin coughed while Josie sat at her table, opening her sketchpad. Instead of drawing, she flicked the edges of pages. Being creative normally put her at ease when something troubled her, but on this night, even her fingers felt without energy.
She hardly noticed she meandered out to the patio swing. Josie sat, not paying attention to whether the waning day’s sky held ponderous black clouds or blazed with sunshine.
Prayers came to mind. She prayed for a brother who had the misfortune of losing the function of his kidneys by what seemed a mild illness. She prayed to forgive Sylvie for not noticing his problem soon enough and getting him to a doctor in time.
Josie figured if she had been near her family, she probably would have seen signs. Sylvie had told her Colin’s fever hadn’t been high, and it was the weekend before Christmas. Sylvie had looked in his throat but hadn’t seen the white spots that might have made her suspect the strep throat. Aspirin took care of his fever. When Sylvie noticed puffiness beneath his eyes, a friend told her it was probably caused by seasonal allergy. Thus Sylvie had ignored all of the symptoms that her son’s kidneys were failing.
By the time Colin told her his pee looked red and Sylvie saw blood in the toilet, it was too late. The doctor said Colin had developed a secondary infection to the untreated strep. His blood pressure had risen and remained high so long his kidneys shut down. For good.
Josie recalled the phone almost slipping from her hand when Sylvie repeated this news to her. “How could this have happened?” Josie asked her at least twice.
Sylvie blamed herself for not being aware, and Josie said it wasn’t her fault. “Don’t feel guilty.” She’d asked if their dad was around, and her mother had given such a run-around Josie realized Sylvie wasn’t certain herself.
Josie quit her job the next morning. She let her apartment go and drove down to Florida, where their father remained around home almost a week. But then Jack Aspen was gone. He’d been gone and not heard from ever since.
Josie prayed for at least one real parent for her brother.
She prayed for a job.
And she prayed to forgive herself for not being near when she was needed.
Andrew came over and saw her solemn on the swing. His smile left. He sat holding her.
Snug in his arms, Josie wished she could remain this protected. He gave the swing a slight push with his feet. Finally he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
She didn’t, but had to. She told about how her job ended, how she didn’t know what she would do now.
Andrew soothed her brow and bolstered her outlook. Everything would be all right. They had each other. She would find something else, something much better.
The day had descended, Josie finally noticed, and a few stars decorated the sky. “Thanks for making me feel better.”
Andrew smiled. “I’ll go in and see Colin a few minutes.”
“Would you check on Fred? I’d like to stay out here awhile longer.”
“Of course.”
Without warning, Josie felt chilled. She glanced one way and then the other over her shoulders. Though she was alone now, she kept the impression of another person’s presence.
She gazed beyond the patio’s overhang at the stars looking down on her. She would miss the quaint shop. She’d miss the odd items and regular customers like Mrs. Antonelli. But not her husband. Josie needed income, but jobs were scarce. How would she find one?
When she kissed Andrew before he left, neither of them revealed their earlier passion.
Colin glanced over the arm of his recliner, his face awash with relief when Josie entered the room. “I thought you left.”
She grabbed her notepad. “Not on your life, buddy.” Smiling, she brushed back his bangs and he grinned. Josie pumped the blood pressure machine, wincing when she recorded the time. Fifteen minutes between the recordings had lapsed to half an hour. His pressure had risen.
Reprimanding herself, she set the machine to pump off more fluids.
“Something funny happened at school today,” her brother said and she realized he’d been waiting to talk with her. She remained near, chatting, hearing him tell of a silly incident involving a teacher and a student, seeing Colin as relieved as she was to be friends again.
His deep dimples told her all would be well.
Fred’s bleep announced his work was done.
Colin rose and pulled out the scale with his foot. Before checking his weight, Josie bent and hugged him. He felt rigid. Playful teasing was their normal expression of admiration ever since Colin had told her months ago that he was too big for kissing. Now, though, Josie needed his hug.