Gone South (36 page)

A few hours after the ’Vette had cruised by, George was desperate for a breath of fresh air untainted by female emotions. He stepped onto the sidewalk.

Mel was only speaking when spoken to, only smiling when smiled at, and then her smiles were phony. She reminded him of one George Zorbas at fifteen, suffering from his first-ever broken heart, or at least he’d called it that. Mel had been working hard, though. He’d give her that. She must have dusted everything in the store, three times over.

He glanced across the street, where his fellow merchants seemed to be doing a brisk business. Sometimes he wondered if the anti-Mel and anti-McComb forces had arranged a quiet boycott of Antiques on Main. But that was ridiculous.

Come to think of it, though, Dorothea Rose hadn’t set foot in the store lately. Trying to remember the last time he’d seen her, he concluded it was the day she’d hidden behind the Luminaire fan and gawked at Tish returning a dog. It was a shame, especially now that he’d read the McComb letters. He would have enjoyed explaining to Mrs. Rose that her grandmother’s tongue-lashing had nothing to do with Mrs. Letitia McComb’s decision to leave town. The old lady should have been ashamed of herself for treating a recent widow that way.

A flash of movement caught his eye. Tish was running toward him, her hair streaming behind her like a banner. Alarmed, he set off toward her, but when they met on the sidewalk, she was smiling so broadly that he almost thought she’d hug him, right there on Main.

“I have a job offer,” she said breathlessly. “Well, it’s not an official offer yet, but it’s almost certain.”

“Congratulations! Where?”

“In Muldro, at a big construction company. I’ll be the office manager. It’s not much like what I was doing before, but if they’re willing to train me, I’m willing to learn.” Her eyes shone with laughter. “The people I’ve talked to so far aren’t from Noble. They probably don’t know anything about McCombs or Mel Hamilton, so I think I’m in.”

“When will it be official?”

“I’ll go back on Monday and meet the owner. I met her son today, and he practically promised me the job. Come on, let’s go tell Mel. She’ll be happy for me.”

“I hope she will,” he said as they walked toward the shop together. “She’s not having an especially happy day herself. After you left this morning, she saw Dunc go by in the ’Vette with a stranger at the wheel. A prospective buyer, maybe. You’d think it was the end of the world.”

“Oh, poor Mel. I won’t gloat about my good fortune, then.”

“No, but there’s no reason you can’t celebrate it.”

“Later,” she said. “In private.” She downsized her grin to a sedate smile, but her eyes still sparkled.

She preceded him into the shop. They found Mel staring glumly at her reflection in one of the art-nouveau hand mirrors.

“I have some news,” Tish told her in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m almost certain I have a job.”

Mel was minding her manners too. Instead of bringing up her own
troubles, she set the mirror down and met Tish with a happy expression. “Yay! Now you can buy that black dress before somebody else does.”

“I shouldn’t. Not until the job is a sure thing. Last time I thought I had a job in the bag, I was wrong.”

“This time, maybe they won’t find out you hang out with baddies like me.”

“Oh, Mel, that wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry I made you think it was. And you’re not a baddie.”

“Whatever.” Mel took Tish by the hand and tugged her toward the mannequin in the snug-fitting velveteen ball gown. “Just try it on. If it fits, you can ask George to put it on layaway. Right, George?”

“Right. The dressing room is right over there.” He pointed. “I’ll leave you two in peace.”

He tried to make himself stay on the other side of the store, but within minutes his feet had found their way back to the clothing corner. From his vantage point behind a chifforobe, he sneaked a look.

Tish had already donned the black ball gown and emerged from the dressing room. Facing the narrow mirror beside it, she held still while Mel stood behind her, tightening the laces.

“There,” Mel said. “Turn around. Let me see.”

With Mel blocking his view, he saw only part of a very pretty picture as Tish spun in a circle. She lifted the heavy skirt a few inches, giving him a glimpse of jeans and bare feet.

“Perfect,” Mel said.

Tish laughed. “I think I’m in love.”

Still unseen, George allowed himself a small nod of agreement.

Mel stepped away as Tish made another turn, giving him an unobstructed view. The bodice was a snug and solid fit, while the skirt swirled gracefully around her.

“Wow!” The word slipped out unbidden.

Tish stopped moving as if he’d hit her off switch. The skirt settled, hiding her jeans again. “I didn’t know I had an audience.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” He backed up a couple of steps. “You look very nice,” he said, as tame a compliment as he dared to offer.

“Thank you. I hope you’re not just saying that so I’ll want to buy it.”

“It’s the truth. It’s a beautiful dress on a beautiful woman. Don’t get skittish, now, just because I’ve expressed my opinion.”

She presented her back to Mel. “Unlace me, please.”

George walked away, trying to interpret Tish’s mixed signals. He would never understand her until he knew her better. Chance encounters like this didn’t help, though, especially with Mel hanging around like a gloomy puppy dog.

Fortunately, Mel was in the back of the store by the time Tish came out of the dressing room with the dress draped over her arm. She’d somehow knotted her hair tightly behind her head. He resisted the temptation to suggest setting it free again.

“Would you like to put it on layaway?” he asked, taking the heavy garment from her.

She sighed, unable to take her eyes off it. “Thank you, but … no. If it’s meant for me, it’ll still be here when I’m sure I can afford it.”

“Okay.” He took a breath and blurted it out. “Tomorrow night, if you’re free, will you let me cook dinner for you to celebrate the job?”

She met his eyes. In the dead silence, he heard his own breathing.

“It’s a little premature,” she said. “The job isn’t a sure thing.”

“Then we’ll celebrate a possibility instead of a sure thing.”

She smiled faintly. “You cook?”

“Some. Nothing fancy.” And wasn’t that the truth.

“Thanks,” she said evenly. “That would be nice. What time?”

“Say … seven?”

“Okay.”

“You know where I live.”

“I certainly do.”

Thinking he saw something sad or wistful or scared in her eyes, he hesitated. “Don’t worry. This time, we won’t discuss carpetbaggers and musty old books.”

She nodded. “See you then.”

He would have preferred more enthusiasm. Maybe she’d accepted the invitation only because he’d accused her of being skittish and she wanted to prove him wrong.

Or somebody, somewhere, had broken her heart. Maybe he needed to let her know she wasn’t the only one.

He headed toward the back room with the dress. He wanted to give it to her, just as he’d given the purse to Mel, but Mel was like a kid sister, and a purse was only a purse. In Tish’s case, there were proprieties to observe. A gentleman didn’t give a lady anything too personal until he knew her very well. He didn’t know her well enough.

Not yet.

He hung the garment on the layaway rack. No need to put a tag on it, as it wasn’t an official layaway, and he certainly wouldn’t forget whom he was saving it for.

Mel wandered into the back room. “It looked great on her. I’m glad she’ll have money for clothes soon.” She sighed, reaching out to stroke the soft black fabric. “I wish I did.”

As his mind tried to formulate a sensible comment about saving her earnings and being patient and responsible, his heart argued that she needed all the blessings she didn’t deserve. So he prayed for her instead of lecturing her, and then he started wondering what on earth he could cook for Tish.

The house was quiet and lonesome with Tish gone.

Must be nice, Mel thought. George had invited Tish, and only Tish, for supper. Like they were a couple. Like they belonged together. She’d looked so pretty when she walked out the door, too, in that funky old blue jacket that made her eyes so blue. She’d twisted her hair up in a knot, and she’d made it stick with blue chopsticks that matched the jacket.

Tish had weird taste sometimes. Maybe she was confused about who she wanted to be. She’d said she was like an uptight Sunday school teacher, but when she unknotted her hair and shook it out, it was wilder and prettier than Amanda Proudfit’s ever was, even when she was cheerleading.

Yep, Tish was a wild woman on the inside. She just didn’t know it yet.

Mel yawned. Her life was so far from wild it was about to kill her. On Friday she’d get another paycheck, but after taxes the whole check wouldn’t be much better than the single penny George had left in the purse. She had to earn more money somehow, but nobody would hire her if she didn’t have nice clothes for interviews.

She needed her own clothes. Good ones. At least a few outfits. Even Tish would agree. She was the one who never shut up about being responsible, using her money wisely. So, why buy new when she already had plenty of clothes? They just happened to be at the wrong house.

So was the ’Vette, unless it was in some other state by now.

Mel couldn’t stop thinking about what George had said about giving up on the car. She would have called him a meanie if he hadn’t given her the cool old purse.

She had a wallet now too. Tish had dug it up for her. She’d said it was something she’d had lying around. Out of style but in good shape. Then she’d handed Mel a house key on a ring with a little metal charm in the shape of a sun. Tish had said that was to remind her that she’d have her day in the sun. That she had a future and a hope, if she’d only turn in the right direction.

The house key meant more, though. It meant Tish had finally decided to trust her.

Mel wasn’t going to put the ’Vette key on the key ring. It was her last treasure, although it didn’t look special. She’d had a hard time picking it out of the slew of keys in the wooden tray on her dad’s dresser. Two years had gone by, but he probably hadn’t missed it yet.

She’d swiped it once before too, the day after Grandpa John’s funeral. She’d driven into the hills, trying to pretend he was in the passenger seat. That didn’t work. After about an hour she brought the car back—and got her butt whipped.

She pressed the key to her lips, then zipped it into the smallest inside pocket of the purse. She would keep the key forever. It reminded her of learning how to drive a stick shift in Grandpa John’s old truck. Once she could shift gears as smooth as sherbet, he’d let her graduate to the ’Vette.

She smiled, gloating a little. He never let anybody else drive it. Just her. It was his special gift. His way of telling her,
I trust you, Melanie John. I believe in you
. He’d even said it out loud the day he’d told her the car would be hers someday. She’d been so excited. Once she’d realized what “someday” meant though, she didn’t want the car. She only wanted Grandpa John to live forever.

She had one cigarette left. If she kept the door closed but opened the windows, Tish would never notice the smell.

Could Grandpa John smell it from heaven, though? He’d always warned her about lung cancer and emphysema, and she knew he was right. It would be awful if she couldn’t breathe. She had to stop smoking.

“Do not buy more cigs,” she whispered. “Quit. Just quit.”

But she would need that last cigarette for her mission. She knew she’d be stressing out about everything.

She shivered. The room was cold at night. Her woolly socks would make a big difference, and nobody would notice if they went missing from the dresser in her old room.

She tried praying again. “Please, God,” she said softly, “when it’s time, can You keep them out of the house long enough so I can pull it off? It’s not stealing. They’re my socks, my jeans, my shirts.”

She wanted to add
my Corvette
, but she was pretty sure God would side with George on that one.

After a brisk walk down Main, Tish ran up the stairs behind the shop. When George opened the door, she became aware of three things simultaneously: something smelled delicious, George had straightened his cluttered apartment in honor of her visit, and his smile melted her nervousness away.